Feeling alone is a normal experience. As a social animal, however, loneliness is more than just uncomfortable, it's dangerous. Even just a moment of believing you are unimportant to those whom you love can be devastating. It can color your entire world and make authentic relationships with others and yourself seem to be impossible. Being strong, you build defenses to survive, but you are built to be better than fine. Having just a sense of what's wrong also means you have a sense of what's right. Undoing aloneness is how you can begin to heal.
I am struggling with the recent discussions about suicide. I've been silent hoping to figure things out for myself. The media’s emphasis on mental health, as well as genuine concern, makes sense, but somehow misses the mark. The problem seems larger than an individual one. Each person makes their own decisions based on their experience of the world, but as social creatures we all influence each other. We all bear some responsibility for our sisters and brothers, I believe.
When I read the article, “Artificial concern for people in pain won’t stop suicide. Radical empathy might.,” I felt like I’d stumbled on something closer to my experience than anything else so far. The author, Richard Morgan, writes, “Suicide is a kind of fatal exhaustion. It knocks on your door not as a monster, but as a healer making a house call.” He then notes that we need to “make that knock at the door less appealing. Give it less space to be heard.”
How do we do that? Something he calls radical empathy. Morgan says that empathy “is a commitment to assert that other people’s loneliness matters.” He writes, “We need each other desperately all the time. That’s what society means. That’s what civilization is. It should be the core of more than just our personal, private conversations. It should be the animating concept behind public policy, taxes, civic duty.”
This position underscores something lacking in our current historical moment: we ignore the suffering of others and consequently believe that we are responsible only for our own lives or those who are within our own tribe. (This is being played out on our Mexican border right now where children are being ripped from their parents’ arms in the name of safety.) Empathy, writes Morgan, “should be a way of life and love; it should be our other oxygen.”
If you’ve made it this far into my post, please check in with a neighbor, a loved one, or even a stranger and ask how they really are at this very moment. It’s OK to go deeper than social niceties. Dig a little if you get the sense that something’s awry. You don’t need to fix anything, I promise, you just need to be present for someone. When I sit with a client talking about suicide I don’t need to fix that person. I just need to care enough to understand what it feels like to walk in their shoes. That's it.
And if you’re up for it, take a risk yourself; let someone know where and how you are today. It’s OK to be hurting, you’re human! We need to share our pain if we hope to fully embrace our own humanity. We need to disagree actively with the notion that a good life is glamorous, sexy, delicious, blessed, and joyous. No, a good life is one lived honestly, with eyes wide open, ready to embrace everything, good and bad, beautiful and ugly, blessed and cursed, sexy and plain, and especially ready to embrace someone when they need it and perhaps least expect it.
Finally, see if there's a way to incorporate empathy into your civic life. When you vote, think about someone other than yourself. When you hear an opinion that makes you want to scream, take a breath and look below the surface to what's really going on, even if it takes longer than you'd like. Consider the possibility that you don't know everything. And entertain the notion that you are not an isolated entity, but that you exist only because of and for others. Individualism is great, but it's mighty lonely.
First, it boggles my mind that I even have to type the title of this post. Second, if you want the quick and dirty version, here you go:
- Get off the internet. Seriously, stop wasting your time. Nothing's changing except your stress levels. (And if you're reading this online, I'm not sure who the joke's on, me or you).
- Turn off your television.
Boom! There you go.
If you want just a few more ideas here are some things to consider.
- Limit your media consumption! (I thought it worth repeating.)
- Be honest with yourself and others about your feelings. Emotions are calls for action and if you're feeling something, say something. You deserve to be heard.
- Spend time with your friends and family, human and non-human alike.
- Go outside.
- Get out of the house. Go see Black Panther or another movie of your choice. Do something! Anything!
- Don't get too Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired. Don't go into HALT!
- Be kind, even if it's a small gesture of politeness, for example: hold the door for someone, pick up trash that didn't make it into the trashcan, compliment someone (just don't be creepy about it), tell someone how important they are to you. In other words, find a way to get out of yourself and connect with others.
- Be of service to someone, something, anything.
- Pamper yourself. Get a haircut. That new pair of shoes? Go for it! Don't go overboard, but be kind to you. You deserve it.
These are just a few things to consider. They aren't fancy. They're just my way of doing something (see list above).
Two final thoughts: 1) If you're feeling helpless, powerless, or stuck on the issue of gun violence, please get involved. There are organizations that need your help. Your voice matters. 2) If you find in the near future that you're just not able to move past your grief or your rage, contact a therapist. I might not be the right fit for you, but I'm always available for referrals.
And finally: get off the Internet and turn off your television!
Trauma by any other name
Think of the word trauma. What comes to mind? I’m guessing that many of you are thinking of combat veterans, sexual assault survivors, or folks who’ve experienced disasters like car accidents, fires, or shootings. You are absolutely correct!
This narrow definition leaves out a lot of people though. Trauma also includes those of you who experienced neglect or divorce, who witnessed violence, substance use, or mental illness, who dealt with the incarceration of a parent, or who survived any kind of abuse or family instability.
If for any reason you ever experienced the world as an unsafe or dangerous place for an extended period, then you have experienced trauma.
Thankfully, most of you came out pretty much unscathed, maybe even stronger because of it. You might even be able to laugh about some of the things that happened to you.
Some of you, however, continue to experience life as an endurance contest. You can’t control your emotions. You’re easily angered or hurt. You’re often sick or just not feeling 100%. You find it hard to take care of yourself. You struggle to maintain healthy and fulfilling relationships.
Some of you might still experience the world and other people as dangerous or unsafe. You might even secretly view yourself as damaged goods.
Adverse childhood experiences
It wasn’t until the 1980s that physicians and researchers began to examine the connection between so-called adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) and adult health issues. Things like anxiety, depression, substance abuse, obesity, troubled relationships, among others, were correlated to childhood experiences unacknowledged and certainly unexamined.
Even one of the lead ACE researchers, Vincent Felitti, stumbled accidentally on this line of study. He was performing a standard intake with an individual in an obesity program when a Freudian slip launched him into studying the ill-effects of childhood trauma.
Rather than ask the client, “How old were you when you became sexually active?” he mistakenly asked her, “How much did you weigh when you became sexually active?” Her response: forty pounds.
She tearfully revealed that she was raped by her father when she was four years old. His eyes opened, Felitti began connecting the dots: a traumatic childhood correlates to an unhealthy adulthood.[i]
Over time, ACEs have been segmented into 10 buckets:
- Physical abuse
- Sexual abuse
- Emotional abuse
- Physical neglect
- Emotional neglect
- Mother treated violently
- Household substance abuse
- Household mental illness
- Parental separation or divorce
- Incarcerated household member
The more commonly cited post-traumatic stress disorder, however, excludes a majority of these ACE categories. PTSD, you see, is only diagnosable in individuals who have experienced actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual assault. There currently is no accepted category in which to place individuals grappling with the lingering impact of childhood trauma.
Only within the last ten years have researchers and clinicians suggested broadening the definition of trauma. The proposal for developmental trauma disorder would include those who have “experienced or witnessed multiple or prolonged adverse events over a period of at least one year beginning in childhood or early adolescence.”[ii]
That’s academic lingo for having a tough childhood.
If you're interested in learning your ACE score, here is an article from NPR that includes the quiz and information about what it means and doesn't mean to you.
Trauma lingers on
The emergence of a new understanding of trauma is important for a few reasons. First, adverse experiences impact brain development. Trauma lingers because it literally changes how your brain functions. Because of physical changes resulting from trauma your self-development is changed. Your ability to reason and process information is altered.
From a biological standpoint, trauma affects how your limbic region functions. It modifies how your hypothalamus, pituitary, and adrenal glands regulate cortisol. It also disrupts neurotransmitters associated with arousal and endogenous opioid systems. These can contribute to a lifetime of anxiety, frustration, misunderstanding, fear, isolation, and ill-health.
Human beings are adaptable animals and most of you who live through adverse experiences find healthy and manageable coping strategies. You grow up to lead productive and fulfilling lives. However, humans are individually unique. Not all of you respond in the same way to stress.
Because of individual, genetic, or environmental circumstances you each respond in a singular way. Plus, research has shown that individuals who experience a greater number of ACEs face an increased likelihood of health problems later in life.
Interestingly, even those who exhibit identifiable negative symptoms (depression, emotional instability, substance abuse, etc.) develop coping strategies that help them survive. But a fulfilling life is about more than mere survival.
There is a necessary and vital distinction between merely surviving and thriving.
A focus on sheer physical survival, a largely unconscious process managed by your limbic system, can hinder your emotional, physical, and cognitive abilities. Your brain can help you to cope with adverse experiences, but doing so requires energy.
And energy devoted to survival cannot be diverted to activities associated with living a more fulfilling and thriving life. These might include things like practicing healthy eating habits, enjoying meaningful hobbies, or developing close friendships.
Until you have reprocessed and cleared the lingering impact of trauma there is a greater likelihood that you will not experience the fulfilment of leading a thriving life.
Thankfully, trauma is a treatable condition. In fact, there is increasing anecdotal evidence that working through trauma leads to what is known as post-traumatic growth. The rewards of working through the darkness of trauma far outweigh the reality of merely surviving another day.
In my next post, I will explore some of the ways that childhood trauma affects you in adulthood.
[i] http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jane-ellen-stevens/the-adverse-childhood-exp_1_b_1943647.html, as viewed on July 13, 2017.
[ii] Bessel van der Kolk, MD, The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma, Viking, 2014.
The actor Stephen Tobolowsky, whom you might remember as Ned Ryerson from Groundhog Day, remarked during a recent interview that he believes humans “don’t look for happiness in life.” Instead, he believes, we want to feel complete. This rang true for me.
Moments of completeness are joyous and painful, and everything in between, and they always feel accurate to my lived experience. However, these moments are, as is their nature, transitory. They end and humans invariably seek ways to sustain them, even if those strategies sometimes are unhealthy.
At the same time, the feeling of incompleteness we seek to avoid or change also is temporary. In other words, we exist in a state of in-betweenness: between thought and action, between yes and no, between cultures we adopt and those we are born into, between yesterday and tomorrow. We are always coming or going, almost always never arriving, a dizzying experience to be sure.
With practice, however, it is possible to gain one’s footing. Awareness of this in-betweenness and reflection upon it leads towards something resembling acceptance or better yet, equanimity: a calmness during difficulty. I can’t know everything. I can’t do everything. I can’t be everything. And thank goodness for that!
There are moments when action is required and moments when it is necessary simply to be, and most of our time is spent somewhere in-between. The desire to feel complete might be innate, as I think Tobolowsky believes, or not, I just don’t know. What I do know is that the tension emerging between completeness and incompleteness is what propels us forward in our lives.
It is the pulled string on a bow that pushes the arrow forward. It is the equanimity of the bowstave that allows for this action to occur. The arrow does not know the difference, nor does it care. It simply needs both to begin and end its journey.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower was published in 1999 and released as a film in 2012. I am fond of coming of age films so this was a perfect choice for some solo movie-watching while my wife was out of town this past weekend. The movie had been recommended to me before and I’m happy I finally watched it.
Emma Watson’s barely passable American accent aside, the movie worked for me as a nostalgia vehicle. Funny, sweet, revealing, honest, dramatic without being too serious or dogmatic, and all under 2 hours: perfect for a night at home with the dogs.
After watching it, I jotted down some of the human needs the film highlights. These are universal needs, I believe, but some are specifically necessary for the journey one begins when healing from trauma. I thought I would share with you some of my thoughts.
To Need is Human
The film focuses on a group of well to do misfits who band together in a nearly adultless world of wealthy Pittsburgh. The protagonist is Charlie, a high school freshman not looking forward to high school. The viewer is made aware of some unknown traumas in Charlie’s life, but nothing is made clear until the film’s conclusion.
The first thing I appreciated about the film was Perks’ insistence on the need for connection. To survive and be our best selves we need others. Relatedly, we need understanding and unconditional positive regard. The film’s kids press against the boundaries of their lives to assure themselves of their support for one another. Charlie, in particular, begins his healing journey by finally having these needs met.
We also need novelty, especially when we’re teenagers. Even more than that, as kids we need to take risks. The Wallflowers take chances that rightly should be frowned upon by adults; that’s part of our job description! Yet, risks help adolescents feel alive as individuals and as a group member.
The Wallflowers exist within a world of self-acceptance and acceptance of difference. Supporting one another as they try to make sense of their world, these kids create fertile ground for personal growth. We cannot go it alone in this world. We need support.
Adults in the film, like any good teen flick, are ancillary. And yet, they are integral to these kids’ lives, particularly Charlie’s. Perks confirms that we need attention from our elders even as we seek, as teens, to distance ourselves from that attention.
The English lit teacher who feeds Charlie classic texts is necessary to his development of future goals, yes, but he’s more than that. He confirms Charlie’s presence. He witnesses Charlie’s uniqueness. We need to be seen. We need to be noticed even if that attention is negative, a strategy sometimes employed by those who experience neglect.
Looking specifically at Charlie’s trauma, the film underscores a few key healing ingredients. First, we need to share our pain. Details are not necessary. We do not need to relive trauma. We just need to know that when reaching for comfort there is someone there for us.
This also underscores a vital component of trauma work: we need to be believed. Perks did a nice job of this. Charlie’s admission of need was belated, as it so often is for trauma survivors, but when he finally revealed his hurt he was believed by his friends and his family. To be believed makes connection more likely.
Charlie initially denied his truths, a rational defense against the pain created by them. Ultimately, however, he realized that the effort and energy it takes to live in denial exacts too great a price. Why not find others who are willing to hold it with you? Charlie was lucky because he did find others he could turn to, hold onto, and rely upon. Not all of us are so lucky.
Also important in trauma work is normalizing one’s experience. Put another way, we need to identify with others. Believing that we are ok precisely because we are similar to others is crucial for all of us, but particularly important to those who have experienced trauma.
The film also affirms the importance of art and its ability to connect us to something bigger than ourselves. To fully heal, we need to transcend our limited and limiting experiences. The paradox, of course, is that we can more fully accept our finitude when facing the sublime. As Charlie reveals in a voice-over, when in the presence of beauty and communion with his chosen family, “And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.”
We Can Be Heroes
Finally, Perks drives home one final point worth mentioning: we need heroes. The film is not subtle in this point, but neither is adolescence. The so-called tunnel song, which these hip kids (unbelievably) don’t know is David Bowie’s “Heroes,” is a song that addresses the powerful and limited nature of our historical existence.
We don’t have forever, but we can find pathways connecting us to something bigger than ourselves even, or especially, during turbulent moments in time. Under threat – and adolescence sometimes feels like an extended trial of existential threats – we can reveal ourselves and be fully present with Others.
Vulnerability is scary, but it takes guts to reveal ourselves to others. Heroes succeed because of their vulnerability, not in spite of it. And it’s important to remember that heroes don’t need to be superhuman. Heroes are our friends, family members, loved ones, elders, and sometimes even strangers. The most heroic among us also are the most human.
The infinite, revealing nature of connection – whether with others, with art, or with our own experience – it turns out, is a perk of being human. We can rise above shame and uncertainty when we feel connected, when we feel seen, believed, and understood. In connection, we can become the heroes we and others need in this world. “We can be heroes, just for one day.”
The holidays are upon us. That time of year when personal, familial, and cultural expectations collide.
An earlier post explored the topic of expectations as a thread connecting holiday stress and unhappiness. So, this year I thought I would focus on a short simple list of things to keep in mind as many of us migrate homeward.
This year might be particularly tricky for some us because of the recently ended presidential election. I would like to believe that family and friends always will respect and honor everyone’s current circumstance. Alas, we do not live in such a rarefied world.
For those of you walking into the lion’s den this holiday season I submit the following short list of suggestions to consider:
1) It’s ok to change the subject if you are uncomfortable with a conversation. Even if you have a strong and well-reasoned opinion, the holidays might not be the best time for its unveiling. Deciphering the direction of a conversation is difficult, but here are three approaches that might be helpful:
a) Pay attention to your body. Is your heartrate increasing? Are you starting to sweat? Are you noticing specific physical sensations (e.g., tightness, numbness, tingling, pain, etc.)? Are you beginning to fidget and move around?
b) Pay attention to your thoughts. Are you thinking only of your response? Are you thinking of ways to humiliate someone? Is your mind racing? Are you thinking of historical hurts? Are you thinking that your relatives “always” do this to you?
c) Pay attention to your emotions. Are you getting angry? Are you experiencing sadness? Do you want to cry or scream? Are you feeling overwhelmed? Are you flooded with a symphony of contradictory emotions?
If you find yourself answering yes to any of these questions, it might be time to talk about sports or the weather!
2) It’s ok to disengage and/or detach for the moment if you are experiencing discomfort and your attempts to change the subject are not working. You also can feel free to disengage or detach if you simply decide it’s unsafe to do anything else.
Disengagement can take many forms: not participating in a conversation, leaving the room, playing with a pet or any children that might be in attendance, or taking a walk. A favorite of mine is volunteering to help someone. Don’t just sit there, do something!
In some cases, simply declining an invitation to attend an event might be the best strategy.
3) It's ok to prioritize your needs if you believe that others will not respect you or your opinions. Some of us come from families in which gaslighting or bomb-throwing are par for the course. In these instances, it might be necessary to honor your health and well-being by surrounding yourself only with loved ones who support you, no matter what.
Prioritizing your needs could mean missing a family event or double-booking yourself. It might mean verbalizing your decision to not engage in a difficult encounter. In my opinion, anything that allows you to focus on your own well-being, and does not harm others, is justified in moments of stress.
Does it need to be said?
Finally, I’ll offer one more simple suggestion. If you find yourself in a hairy situation with no means of escape and you’re considering jumping into the drama at the risk of your own sanity, ask yourself these three questions: Does it need to be said? Does it need to be said now? Does it need to be said by me?
I learned these questions from friends in Al-Anon as a strategy for maintaining emotional sobriety. Luckily, they are questions that are invaluable for anyone and everyone. Reflecting on the questions allows you to distance yourself from the scrum. The answers sometimes are secondary.
And if all else fails, simply remember that all of us make mistakes over and over again. That’s how we move towards change. David Bowie’s 1977 song, “Always Crashing in the Same Car” is a moody song celebrating this all-too-human foible. Have a listen and remember that even David Bowie wasn’t perfect, close, but not perfect.
“Pay attention to that.”
I often say this to my clients. It’s a helpful strategy if practiced with consistency and patience. It can provide valuable information for accessing strength and clarity.
Paying attention can aid in decreasing one’s anxiety or the impact of depression. It can help improve one’s relationships and introduce a way to tolerate the discomfort of stress. It can provide the space for an addict or alcoholic to make healthy choices.
You’ve Got Skills
As soon as we take our first breath, we have attentional skills. We have an innate ability to turn towards care and to cry when we need nurturance. Growing up, we can laugh and play with wild abandon and know when to move away from scary situations. We can access protective rage in dire situations and bring focus to our loved ones during intimate moments.
These emotional systems provide us with automatic survival tools. Instructions are not included because, if all goes well enough, these skills just flow. However, many of us lose contact with these inner reserves too early in our lives. This can be the result of genetics, personal physiology, or unhealthy environments.
In time, just about all of us grow alienated from or uncomfortable with some of these inborn skills. We turn away from “simple” things and focus on the uniquely modern needs that require higher order rational thinking: school, careers, relationships, family, communities, health.
We learn how to pay attention to external factors with our executive functioning, but forget to check-in with ourselves to see if what we’re doing is a good fit for us. Thankfully, we can change our behavior.
By turning towards what matters most to us we can grow stronger. Our cognitive abilities, the very same ones that can lead towards obsessions with success and power, can help us to be more mindful. We can choose to tune into our sensations, our thoughts, our beliefs, our actions, and our feelings.
With intentional practice, we can deepen our connection to ourselves and the world around us. We can reconnect with those always flowing emotional systems simply by reminding ourselves they exist. We can do this simply through paying attention.
How to Pay Attention
When I encourage clients to pay attention I’m not asking them to spend hours each week meditating on an issue. In fact, my suggestion sometimes is made in passing. I simply want to draw awareness towards an action, a feeling, or a thought that might otherwise be rote or unconscious.
I want my clients to be curious about their own lives. I also want them be more tolerant of the distress that is part and parcel of the human condition.
The practice of paying attention can begin simply. In a moment of your choosing, simply notice the sensations you’re experiencing, the thoughts or images popping into your mind, or the feelings arising in you. This three-part approach (sensations, thoughts/images, feelings) is simple, but complex.
A client might notice that she consistently tightens her shoulders when we discuss her family of origin. Normally, this movement would go unnoticed. From this one simple observation, it’s possible then to focus on the thoughts connecting this movement and this topic.
Identifying emotions can be daunting, but exploring one’s thoughts is a fantastic way to move closer to an emotional experience. I’m always aiming for emotion because I find this experiential approach transformative for clients.
Otherwise Known as Mindfulness
Being conscious of sensations, thoughts, and feelings is necessary for becoming more mindful. These data provide an object on which to focus one’s subjective attention. With sustained and intentional focus, we are better able to understand our motivations and formulate thoughtful actions.
I use the phrase “pay attention” for two reasons. First, because while paying attention is being mindful, mindfulness is more than simply paying attention. Second, I just find the phrase itself to be more inviting.
Imagine you’re nearing the end of a session and you mention something important to me. Which would you rather hear, “pay attention to that” or “be mindful of that”? Personally, I’m more drawn to, and less intimidated by the former.
Whatever label we apply, the goal is same: becoming more aware of ourselves as intentional creatures.
Thus far, I have explored the topic of addiction and broken it down into (hopefully!) understandable stages, Fun and Fun with Problems. In the final post of my addiction series I will review the stage I like to call, Just Problems.
When the only thing you can count on is trouble it might be time to pay closer attention and take stock of your circumstances. When the fun stops, the end is nigh.
The occasional headaches resulting from problematic substance use are controllable. Given enough rope though an individual with a substance use disorder will cross that invisible line into addiction. And to survive, she will circumscribe her world into ever smaller and unhealthy compartments.
As a result, individuals in the throes of substance abuse lose things that are known to contribute to a fulfilling life: friends, family, freedom, meaning, economic security, physical health, self-respect.
These losses are mourned, but easily rationalized away. “I never liked that job anyway.” “He didn’t love me the way I wanted him to.” “Everyone in my family has liver problems.” “I needed to lose some weight anyway.”
However, and this is part of the insidious nature of substance abuse, as losses mount there is always a panacea to offset them. Addiction is an infinity loop that veers wildly between extreme highs and lows. When you’re in it though, it’s hard to see any other reality.
To an outside observer this is crazy. Just say no! But to an addict the mission is simple, straightforward, and obtainable: get high no matter what.
At this stage of the game, as discussed in an earlier post, an individual’s substance use is no longer simply a conscious choice. The brain’s short-cut, it’s “chunk” of time- and energy-saving efficiency is in full control: I don’t like how I feel…When I don’t like how I feel, I use…When I use I feel better… Problem solved!
An addict’s “better,” of course, is a relative term that describes only feeling different than she did when her craving was cued. And craving is triggered by just about any cue, good or bad, at this stage. If gone unchecked, the once perfect solution, the once unassailable resolution to any uncertainty or conflict delivers the addict further into the final stage of addiction and for too many people, closer to death.
What starts out as a novel way to kill time and hang out with friends becomes a means to address something else entirely, an unquenchable craving that appears to have only one answer: more! The paradox of addiction is that this reward-seeking behavior, a once rational attempt to change how we feel, can kill us if gone unchecked.
For those who enter this late stage of addiction life is unbearable, both for the addict and those around her. Nothing goes right. Everything is wrong. The losses outnumber the wins, but the brain is focused only on earning its reward and easing the pain associated with not using.
Addiction in its final stage is like Kevin Bacon’s character in the film Animal House trying to reassure the panicked homecoming parade attendees that all is well. No matter how sincere is our attempt to put on a game face, sometimes we’re just gonna to be flattened.
Why does this happen?
Addiction in my experience is iatrogenic in nature, an illness caused by the treatment of another affliction. Iatrogenic addiction normally refers only to that caused by healthcare professionals. The classic example being opioid addiction resulting from pain management.
In my experience, however, only in rare instances is substance abuse disorder the sole presenting issue. It more often than not is comorbid with another mental health concern such as anxiety, depression, traumatic stress, unresolved grief, schizophrenia, etc.
Individuals who find relief of some kind through substance use are not just looking for a good time. They are self-medicating.
Substances that once introduced you to awesome experiences and saved you from unacknowledged demons could be the thing that kills you in the end. This is dramatic language, but struggling with an untreated mental health issue can be unbearable even before adding drugs and alcohol into the mix.
Substance use might allow you to bear it for a brief time, but the cost is steep and the payback fleeting. Surprisingly, the causes of addiction are not germane to the brute phenomenon that is addiction. Origin stories are interesting, sure, and also pointless when helping someone regain control of their life.
Here’s what is important to know: substance use patterns and the ability to control usage change over time. Cues to use creep from conscious choice to something more ingrained, involuntary, and unconscious. Life becomes smaller and less enjoyable. The only thing that provides escape is the very thing that might be killing you.
Recovery From a Hopeless State of Mind and Body
How then do you address the intractable state of being that is addiction? Recovery from a hopeless state of mind and body should be a no-brainer, right? If only that were true.
For those of us with personal experience of it, addiction is a killer, yes, and it's also a pain in the ass. Relapse, manipulation, illness, chaos, loneliness: it’s messy and recovery rates are abysmal.
Despite this reality, recovery is possible. In fact, if an individual is willing to be honest with herself recovery is entirely probable.
There are many recovery paths, from abstinence to harm reduction/moderation management. For anyone who has entered the final stage of addiction I personally believe that abstinence is the best choice. For those not as advanced in their addiction, harm reduction can be a plausible and logical approach.
For now, suffice it to say that there is a solution for everyone, even if that solution is different for everyone. Two necessary threads that characterize successful recovery of any type are honesty and connection with others. Humans, after all, are social creatures.
In order to heal from a condition that isolates us and lies to us it’s necessary to replace separation with relation. White-knuckling it alone at home is not worth the trouble. It’s one reason why too many in recovery return to substance use.
Recovery cannot be focused solely on losing a relationship with a substance though. Recovery must be about living life to the fullest. It must be about tolerating the stress of daily life and paying attention to what really matters to us. It must be about accepting ourselves and others, no matter what.
To highlight the seductive power of addiction I’ll leave you with the song, “Golden Brown,” by The Stranglers, a song that sweeps you away however you interpret it.