Beyond Rehab

A while back I was asked to write about what finally convinced me I had to quit drinking. Immediately I remembered the horrible alcohol-induced hallucinations I experienced leading up to the morning I finally quit. But then I remembered—that is not what convinced me I needed to quit drinking for good. That horrifying experience is only what convinced me I needed to quit drinking for that day.

I had spent over 20 years abusing my body with substances, so of course I had hit drinking and drugging bottoms before that last one. The last one just took on a different form—albeit one of the most frightening. However, “hitting bottom” or the fear of hitting bottom was not enough to convince me to quit drinking forever—as it is not enough for many. It takes something more.

So what is that extra element that convinced me after that last episode of “hitting bottom” to do more than just heal-up for a few days and return to drinking as I had so often done in the past?

Two things—one was my willingness to finally have the courage to acknowledge that ”little” voice of good judgment I had been ignoring for so much of my life. And two was my willingness to act on that “little” voice’s wisdom.

The wisdom I ignored and eventually, finally, listened to and acted upon was this: My life is a creative one. It is not meant to be about avoiding drugs and alcohol. Life is about what I say yes to, not what I say no to. I am free to find my own way to live the life I dream of, the life I truly desire.

I do not share the opinions and beliefs of Alcoholics Anonymous, and I have every right not to be limited by the beliefs of that program or those who support it. However—and this is a BIG however—I am responsible for discovering what I do believe. I am responsible for discovering and acting upon, to the best of my ability, ways to enhance my life and the lives of those I touch. Kindness, compassion and love—with a bit of fun added in as often as possible—is a mantra for all (that is, of course, if you choose to believe in it).

It was a toss-up—should I write about Lindsay Lohan or Kelly Osborne? They are both, along with talk of their substance abuse, in a recent issue of People magazine. Kelly won due to her quotable quotes.

But first let me say this: having fallen into similar habits and rehabs myself at her age and earlier (and later) I feel for her—and Lindsay. I really do feel bad for young people who are not only struggling with addiction but are also having to struggle with the insufficient and very often detrimental treatment they are so often administered. It’s very, very sad for me to see this. But it continues.

Kelly’s quote number one: “This is a disease. I was born with it. I’ll die with it.”

Again, Kelly is a lot like me. There was a time when I was still being coached by therapists, rehabs, and AA-goers who shared that belief—that alcohol dependency is a disease—and who pushed me to believe it as well. Obviously, if you follow my writing, you know I do not accept that alcoholism is a disease. Yes, a person’s body can become dependent, but that is not a disease. And thanks to my refusal to accept that I am diseased, I do not have to spend my life under a false veil, under constant watch and fear, under shame.

Kelly’s quote number two and the reason she is willing to believe alcoholism is a disease: “I just want to be happy. Anything is better than the way it was.”

Kelly is a lot like me. Kelly is a lot like all of us. Wanting to be happy is not a disease. How we attain happiness is a process. True, it is often a misguided process, but being misguided is NOT a disease.

I rarely watch the reality show, “Dancing With the Stars,”  but I happened to catch the season premier on Monday night. My favorite moment, however, was not one of a dancer dancing. It was when Ty Murray—a nine-time World Champion rodeo cowboy and Jewel’s husband—made a comment just before going onstage to dance his first dance on live TV (In front of several of his “cowboy buddies” no less).

Ty said, “I’m approaching it (his performance) like bullfighting…you’re never completely ready—it just becomes your turn.”

Well put, Ty! That’s the way it goes with so many things.

Once upon a time I participated in a “therapeutic” exercise that required each of us to climb a 30 foot high telephone pole, stand there on the small, round wooden surface the size of a plate with nothing to hold onto, and “Leap!” We were supposed to try to grab hold of the metal bar swinging out in front of us. If we missed, we fell. Of course we had a safety harness on, but let me tell you…. Number one, I NEVER want to do that again. And two, there came a point when I had to just jump. Waiting all day wasn’t going to make it any easier, and, in fact, every second I delayed my fear increased. I just had to jump.

And so it is with quitting a habit, especially a deeply addictive habit like smoking and drinking. You’re never completely ready to quit, it just becomes your turn. And then you’ve done it! All over, not so bad, good job…la te da, no big deal see? Well, the accomplishment is always HUGE, but the actual leaping part is not  so difficult—once you do it.

I can play a very simple version of Duke Ellington’s “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore” on guitar. Normally I use that song as a warm up to practice without paying too much attention to the lyrics. But today the lyrics were sinking in. I always assumed the song was about a break up with a girlfriend. But take a look at the lyrics and tell me if the lyrics, written by Bob Russel in 1942, could not be applied to alcohol.

Missed the Saturday dance/Heard they crowded the floor/Couldn’t bear it without you/Don’t get around much anymore. Thought I’d visit the club/Got as far as the door/They’d have asked me about you/Don’t get around much anymore. Been invited on dates/Might have gone but what for/Awfully different without you/Don’t get around much anymore.

Metaphors are common in life. I know many songs, especially old blues songs, needed to use seemingly innocent words—like, “squeeze my lemon, sugar in my bowl”—when they wanted to sing about sex. I’ve also heard that Sufis (mystics) often use the imagery and language of drunkenness to say things about God. The commitment and passion an alcoholic has to drink is an earthly parallel to the commitment and passion the Sufis have to feel God. They would say things like, “I want to get drunk before the sun even rises and then drink all day, savoring every drop of the sweet elixir.”  Sufis are all about experiencing what the heart truly desires, which they understood (in terms of words) to be God—or so I’ve heard.

So if Bob Russel is using the language of love to express feelings for alcohol, and if the Sufis are using the language of alcohol to express feelings for God, then what passionate yearning are we using alcohol to try to express? What is it we really desire? It’s difficult to say what, on a soul-satisfying level, we yearn for because it’s not something that’s easy to decipher. So some of us try to find our explanation in alcohol. But that’s more like throwing a blanket over our faces…we’ll never “see” anything that way. Underneath that frantic surface desire to keep the steady flow of alcohol in our blood is a much deeper desire to feel wonderful—soul-satisfying wonderful. I’m not talking about religion or beliefs. I’m talking about real live soul-satisfying experiencing—a kind of joyful, contented, even blissful feeling.

The bridge of the song, “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore,” kindly suggests we try not to think about what we’re missing: “Oh, Darling I guess my mind’s more at ease/But nevertheless, why stir up memories?” That’s one way to get along. But another way would be to consider opening ourselves up to soul-stimulating feelings—feelings that are in line with “soul-satisfying” experiencing.

How ironic that our soul’s urgency to fulfill our deeper yearnings—which is very often what leads us to drink in the first place—can be the ticket out of drug and alcohol dependency.

A Joke: “A young man and a young woman had been dating for four years, and the young man wanted very much to get married. His girlfriend, however, gave no sign that she was interested in marriage.

Finally, one night, the young man decided to try to get a commitment. After a romantic meal with soft music playing in the background, he said gently, “You know, my love, my greatest desire is to have a wife.”

“That’s fine, honey,” the young woman said. “But I’d like to continue seeing you occasionally.”

So the young woman is afraid of commitments. I shy away from certain commitments too, especially ones that feel restrictive. But I make commitments with ease when I feel they are useful and hopeful and possibly even exciting and great. No problem there.

If I knew the young woman in the joke above and I thought her boyfriend was an awesome match for her, I would give her this advice— “Jane,” when you feel afraid of committing to marriage, try this: say to yourself, “I am committing to discovering how much joy and laughter I can experience with this person. I am committing to discovering what wonderful things the two of us can create together and that will fulfill us both. I am committing to discovering how much LOVE I can grow with this person.”

And if “Jane” were a problem drinker and we both agreed alcohol was a terrible match for her, I would give her the same advice. I would say— “Jane,” when you feel afraid of committing to life without alcohol, try this: say to yourself, “I am committing myself to discover the best me who has been hiding under the veil of alcohol and/or drugs. I am committing myself to discover how much health I can feel in my body. I am committing myself to discover how much joy and LOVE I can find with life.”

Forget the small stuff—commit to the bigger picture. Commit yourself to discovering/uncovering the best of life, the best of you.

I came across an article today, “How to Quit Drinking without Alcoholics Anonymous.” Now bless its little heart for offering us alternatives—keep ‘em coming—but I want to say something about the “booze brain” idea the article talks about.

The article suggests that we objectify our “booze brain.” “Think of it as something separate from yourself, and learn to hear it speaking to you. It will try anything to get you to drink, because it falsely believes that you need to drink to survive. If you are feeling bad, it will tell you to drink to feel better. If you are feeling good, it will tell you to drink to party or celebrate.”

The problem I have with that is—it freaks me out! I don’t want to think there is some alien being in my head who will, “try anything to get me to drink.” Scary….

But—if you think it would help you to objectify your feelings—I have another way of thinking about unhealthy impulses or “booze brain” or “stinkin’ thinkin’” as it’s often put in AA. What I would suggest is that you try thinking about your sudden extreme impulses as emotions. And then think about those emotions as your children rather than some frightening bad creature thing.

Say for example you have a sudden overwhelming desire to get drunk or binge on an entire batch of cookies. You can treat that overwhelming desire with the same kindness and attention you would give to your child if they were begging you to eat only cookies for dinner. You can laugh or smile and say to that overly strong child/emotion impulse, “No, we’re not going to drink a case of beer or eat all those cookies. Sorry.” You would not destroy, hate or fear the child if the child/emotion persists. You remind yourself that you are the adult and you are in control. Change the subject, ignore the nagging and eventually the overpowering feelings will cease pestering you—until the next time, where you will practice again the same technique until it becomes natural and easy not to give into desires you know are not good for you. It really does get easier and easier to be good to yourself.

I’ve been slowly making my way through each episode of the reality show, “KITCHEN NIGHTMARES,” starring the internationally renowned chef, Gordon Ramsay. On the show Chef Ramsay goes on a mission to rescue a restaurant in crisis. He shows up at a preselected restaurant and whips everyone into shape by yelling and cursing at them. How he really helps them is with his expert knowledge and skill. Also, his crew spends time and money giving each restaurant a make-over.

Though yelling at people wouldn’t be my way, I very much like the idea of someone coming in to help a person when they are in such despair. Wouldn’t it be nice if there were a Chef Ramsay for everyone in crisis—whether emotional, physical, or economic. In drug and alcohol intervention plans, “rescue” is the goal. However, from what I’ve seen, its rarely achieved. That plan needs work.

We all need help sometimes, but some of us have been absolutely desperate for it. And when that happens it is a crisis. It’s disturbing to learn when someone in such despair and who could have been saved has died. If only someone had been willing to carry them, just for a little while, until they could begin to see and do for themselves again.

Very often a change of circumstances  and absolute support can make all the difference in the life—or death—of an addict. That is why it’s tragic when no one moves to assist. And why don’t we? It could be the very existence of that destitute person is precisely the reason we do not do everything that is needed to help them. I’m guessing that most of us are afraid if we were to fully embrace a person in need, not only could it send us into the throes of poverty and despair ourselves, but we would also be forced to acknowledge that, apart from our own personal charity, society is not set up to truly care for those in need. Helping the person in every way possible means we understand there is no “Chef Ramsay” to save us if we fall into crisis ourselves. So often it is easier to lay all responsibility on the addict.

Our world and each society in it has a long way to go. But there is one thing I’ve learned through all my struggles, defeats, accomplishments, and successes—having a long way to go is NEVER a reason not to persevere.

One of the reasons it took me so long to quit drinking is because I believed life would be dismal, difficult and depressing without it. That had always been my experience in the past.

The most dismal expectation and belief I had was that I would be doomed to be labeled alcoholic for the rest of my life. That belief began when I was first introduced to A.A. at age 14. In fact, everyone in the recovery community told me that was true. They said I would be an alcoholic for the rest of my life even if I never took another drink.

Today I am convinced that limited belief I first heard at age 14 is part of the reason quitting was always so difficult for me from then on. Under that belief I could either continue on a path of slow suicide-by-alcohol, or I could quit drinking, with my reward being that my name for the rest of my life would be, “Amy—Alcoholic/Drug Addict.”  Ick.

For centuries people believed the earth was flat and for centuries people were afraid to meet the horizon because they believed they would fall of the edge of the earth! If they ever thought to travel, trade, or invite a distant relative over for supper, they had to think again! That false belief affected their entire lives. It limited their possibilities.

If you fear letting go of alcohol or drugs or cigarettes because you believe it will be terrible from beginning to perhaps forever, remember that is a fear based on your belief, not facts. A miserable result does not need to be your experience—unless you believe that is so.

When I decided to quit drinking, I found I needed to go against the beliefs of conventional “wisdom.” I was only able to quit by doing things my way—even though conventional wisdom says “doing things my way” is part of the problem, not the solution. That conventional wisdom turned out to be false (the Earth is not flat!).

Do not limit yourself to rumors and other people’s beliefs—including your own limiting beliefs—about what must be done to quit drinking.

When people feared the earth was flat they were limited. But once they found out that was a false belief, they could sail all around the world, free to explore for the rest of their lives. I can assure you when it comes to quitting alcohol and drugs there are many people who have done so using non-conventional methods. If all that you’ve heard about quitting drinking or drugs depresses you, do not let that be the end of all hope. That is only limited belief based on limited exposure. So much more is possible. You are not doomed to sit in meetings for the rest of your life—if you can believe otherwise.

*Christopher Columbus did not discover the world was round. The ancient Greeks knew the earth was round, though the knowledge was largely forgotten in the Middle Ages.

Many people believe an addict is born that way. I am not one of those people. I think most people, particularly those in developed countries, are born into complications of family which then reflects into society, and vice versa. I believe most addicts, particularly those who struggle with alcohol and food, are extremely sensitive to their own suffering as well as to the suffering of the world around them. The difference between the sensitive addict person and the sensitive non-addict person is that somewhere along the line the sensitive non-addict person learned how to handle their painful feelings and emotions in a functional manner and the sensitive addict person has not.

I’ve learned that the healthiest way to handle painful feelings and emotions is to discover for oneself that horrible feelings really are temporary. Even the worst feeling in the world lessens over time.

The irony is that we use substances—alcohol, food, drugs—to stuff temporary feelings into temporary submission. Suppressing feelings has never been a successful technique when it comes to healing fears and painful emotions. The way to heal fears of painful emotions has more to do with entering into those feelings than with suppressing them. The idea is to enter into the fear, feel it fully (for 5  minutes or so), and then to gently remind yourself that it’s just a feeling, it can’t hurt you, and it will pass.

“A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.” Bernard Meltzer

A person who is addicted to alcohol does not need any help in accusing themselves of behaving badly. They are almost certainly doing a better job of that than any outsider ever could—they just don’t show it.

A person who is addicted to alcohol may walk around in an intoxicated state appearing to be strong, angry or proud—but that is rarely the truth of how they feel.

The truth is that, when not intoxicated, a person who is addicted to alcohol is usually experiencing deep despair. They are experiencing a lack of joy. They are almost certainly experiencing fear—often unconsciously and intensified by the mentally distorting effects of alcohol. There is usually a diminished sense of purpose or meaning. It is to save themselves from those dismal and discouraging conditions that a person will persist in drinking—not because they are disobedient to good intentions.

There are many things going on with the thoughts, feelings and emotions of an alcoholic. Bliss is not one of them.

So what can a person who cares for an addicted drinker do to help them out of their pain, fear and misery?

Most people who constantly indulge in alcohol and its intoxicating effects have great emotional sensitivities. If you approach such a person with compassion and your willingness to understand, you will have a much better chance of reaching them than if you take a “tough” and uncompromising attitude, even to the point of refusing to attempt to understand their struggles.

A person caught up in the throes of alcohol needs help in finding more joy in life, more ways of communicating and healing fears, and more ways to stir up feelings of purpose and meaning. You can even say to the drinker, “Please, can you help me understand how to help you right now?”

What you can hope for is that instead of trying to bring joy through the use of alcohol, your loved one will find the strength, inspiration, and courage to work to heal themselves.

The drinker knows their behavior is negative. In fact, they almost always feel they are bad for it. What the drinker doesn’t know is that they are beautiful.