Thursday, April 30, 2009

IT IS NOT THAT YOU LIED TO ME, IT IS THAT I CAN NO LONGER TRUST YOU.

It is important for those who care for an active addict to not take it personally when they are on the receiving end of a lie. We need to understand that as the disease progresses; there are several defense mechanisms that begin to be in play by the addict. Most of these are unconscious and common to addiction. It is the brain of the addict finding ways to protect itself from the reality of the shape it is in. If I can lie to myself about what is happening to me, I can surely lie to you. Once a person has lied, there is a loss of credibility. Much of the pain of the family is the loss of trust as a deceit is uncovered. Family and friends expend a great deal of energy now testing trust. It feels so unloving and unkind to admit that you no longer trust that person. We lie to ourselves about that, all of which drags us down the rabbit hole.

When recovery begins, the addict wants our trust and we lie again--saying that we do trust. We do not want to be emotionally honest for fear it will upset the recovering person.
Well--let me suggest a better way. It is OK to be honest and nicely tell the truth. "No- I do not trust yet. I trust you, but I do not trust addiction. Let us not talk about trust again for a year. Let us, instead, just focus on what we both need to do in our recovery. I want to trust you and I love you." It is important to think of recovery like a Podiatry program. We need to watch the feet and not the mouth. Are your feet and their feet where they need to be? Hint; at meetings and in healthy places.

Warm regards,
Nan Reynolds

DO YOU CHOOSE TO BECOME LESS IN PAIN--OR MORE?

A friend of mine once said, "Nothing seems to be getting better except me!"
And this is the wondrous feeling one can acquire if one chooses to do the hard work of turning lemons into lemonade. It is said that the only real disability in life is a bad attitude.

Loss and pain enter every life, eventually and in a myriad of forms. It is the choice of whether we want to have had a sad life, or a life with sadness in it. Maslow said, "Make growth choices, not fear choices". A question I ask myself is whether I would prefer to be better, or bitter. Pain is a great alarm clock. It can wake us up to the need to come to terms with whatever the pain is about. Alanon has always been a great help in this journey and helps one give perspective to life. We can stay attached to the pain, or let go and risk that we shall not perish. The pain in my life has always led me to a path that offers growth and a whole new “turn in the road.” Soldier on!

IF I AM WHAT I DO AND THEN I DON'T, I'M NOT

This little profound statement takes some explaining. It is often the feeling of loss and emptiness that family members have once the addict reaches treatment, begins to change and the people in the relationship start a needed new way of relating to each other. In the case of the family member being a spouse, it may have involved some heavy-duty care-taking and controlling of the addict and this role, no longer desired in recovery, sometimes leaves the spouse feeling unemployed or pink-slipped. The addict is struggling for self-reliance and confidence and the spouse needs to support them in no longer being the addicts answer to life. It can feel depressing and disorienting to the spouse who has wished for a partner, but now struggles with words and feelings on just how to not be the one with all the answers. In the case of parents and an adult child in recovery, the same feelings occur. Just how do you come to grips that your parenting days are over, even though you remain the parent? Just how do you now develop an adult-to-adult relationship with your child. Most mothers, especially, dislike this true statement: Mothers are not for leaning on, they are to make leaning unnecessary. Ouch! My response to this daily pondering is that we are not roles, but we are individuals. Roles change but relating as individuals is part of the richness of recovery for everyone.

Regards,
Nan Reynolds