Centuries ago, the mystic Julian of Norwich7 wrote about her own experience of opening herself up to Love:
And so by meekness which we obtain in seeing our sin, faithfully recognizing his everlasting love, … our love will never be divided in two …. If there be any such liver on earth, who is continually protected from falling, I do not know, for it was not revealed to me. But this was revealed, that in falling and in rising we are always preciously protected in one love.
If this approach seems a bit esoteric or suspect to you, I encourage you to take a chance and read on. The process of acknowledging the lies we tell about addiction, considering the true stories of addiction, and beginning to see the truth about redemption can open us further to Love.
Perhaps this openness to something Other than ourselves is the greatest gift of addiction. Our self-will might be able to force us to change for a time, but when we realize our need for redemption in addiction, we have to acknowledge that self-will is not enough. Only Love can move us to change every day, one day at a time. Whenever I hear stories about self-will run riot and self-effort falling flat on its face, I have an opportunity to consider what (or who) plucked me from that fate. I do reverence to Love every day.
1
THE EVIDENCE OF ADDICTION:
A MILLION LITTLE PIECES
Sharing the personal story of what happened in the addiction, what brought the person to change, and what life is like in recovery … is a ritual that enables the holy presence to come forth.
—LINDA SCHIERSE LEONARD, Witness to the Fire1
I know a sixteen-year-old boy who shoots heroin between his toes twice a day because that’s the only place left on his body with a good vein.
I counsel a thirty-two-year-old woman who ingests twenty-eight laxatives a day and spends hours in an unspeakable ritual of binging and purging to satiate her hunger and maintain her weight.
According to the January 7, 2004, Fond Du Lac (WI) Reporter, Timothy Dumouchel of West Bend has filed a claim against Charter Communications blaming the company for his “TV addiction” and claiming that “TV … caused his wife to be overweight and his kids to be lazy.” He is suing for five thousand dollars, or three computers plus a lifetime supply of free Internet services.2
Years ago I attended church with a woman who read her Bible for thirty minutes every day because she was afraid of what God would do to her children if she didn’t.
One of my first clients in my counseling practice was a hard-working man who made eight hundred dollars a week and spent half of it on telephone calls to 900 numbers talking about sex to women he didn’t know.
The authors of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders are considering adding “text messaging addiction” as a diagnosable mental disorder.
As we begin to consider addiction and the infinite number of ways that compulsion and obsession become entwined in the human condition, I open this chapter with the story of a few addicts I know—a few stories that may or may not be familiar to you—to confirm the words of the Old Testament prophet Isaiah, “Their land is full of idols” (Isaiah 2:8, NIV). After all, that’s what addiction really is—it is worship. No matter how sophisticated or crude, any given addiction is a person, place, substance, activity, or ideology that becomes central to a human being’s mind, body, soul, and spirit. Whether it is alcohol or religious activity, addiction is at work when something or someone begins to affect the style and nature of all aspects of a person’s life and interacts with all of his or her activities. The etymology of the word gives insight into its idolatrous nature. Addiction is from the Latin word addictus, which means “to surrender to the gods.”
THE MOMENTUM OF ADDICTION
Addiction is in motion when a person, place, substance, activity, or ideology becomes what you think about when you wake up in the morning, what you plan for, what you hide from others, what you spend money on, what causes guilt and/or shame, what you spend time trying to mitigate, and what you determine to eradicate, only to find yourself in the same cycle again. Your addiction becomes the momentum of your life. It is the most significant relationship in your life. Often, not until you make a decision to change a central activity or relationship do you realize the momentum it has acquired. From a physics perspective, changing momentum is about as difficult as making a river flow upstream.
Addicts are people who are living, sometimes obliviously and sometimes quite consciously, with the consequences and ramifications of their one central activity. Addiction is the cumulative impact of many long-cultivated and interrelated habits of mind, soul, and body. Much of the literature about addiction defines it as “a state of compulsion and obsession, focusing on one element that will supposedly satisfy.” This definition is incomplete, however, because it leaves out the heart of addiction. Addiction goes deeper than obsession and compulsion. It is worship. It is giving my heart and soul over to something that I believe will ease my pain and provide an outlet for my fury at being out of control in a world that hurts me, scares me, or leaves me alone.
Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
—NURSERY RHYME
Addiction creates a way of life—a way of being in this life—that is fueled by a deep, deep need to worship something or someone. As the songwriter suggests, “You’re gonna have to serve somebody.”3 The addict bows at the altar of a central activity that takes away stress, pain, and loneliness for a while and gives him or her a sense of control. All addictions include a re-creation of a more palatable world. In addiction, we believe that our chosen idol creates a world that is better. All of us long to re-create. The soul longs for rest—relaxing, letting down, having someone else do the work. Like a magic carpet, our addictions allow us to dissociate from reality and connect us to a god that seems to work much better than any god we may have learned about in Sunday school.
ADDICTION MAKES EVERYTHING BETTER UNTIL IT MAKES EVERYTHING WORSE
This book is not a statistical manual about the prevalence of addiction in our culture. I suspect you have already felt its impact. In fact, the moment we record statistics about addiction, they change, usually demonstrating an increasing impact on society. Perhaps the most significant statistic is summarized by Robert R. Perkinson in his comprehensive report on drug and alcohol addiction in 2004; he concluded “that there is not a family in America that has not been impacted by addiction.”4 Addiction has left countless individuals and families broken into a million little pieces.
Rather than report statistics that are impersonal and make addiction seem far away, let me tell you one woman’s story of addiction and her search for redemption. Her story is not the stereotypical tale of a drunk living in a shelter, sipping cheap booze from a bottle in a paper sack. This woman’s story is lived out in the suburbs while she sips chardonnay from a plastic Big Gulp cup.
And all the king’s horses and all the king’s men
couldn’t put Humpty together again.
—NURSERY RHYME
When Laurie came to see me for counseling, she was in her late thirties. She was well dressed and articulate, wore designer shoes, and had on flawless lipstick. She began by telling me, with great shame, that she had a little problem with alcohol. She was married, had two children and many friends, and was active in her church. No one really knew about the alcohol. Laurie was concerned though, because she had begun to notice that the amount she was drinking had increased. She occasionally felt shaky in the morning, and she had even been drinking during the day recently. Most often, however, she waited until after dinner, poured herself a glass of wine, and sipped it while watching television or reading, until she fell asleep.
Concerned about the increasing amount she was drinking, Laurie had consulted her family doctor. She was worried that she had begun to drink more than a “little” wine each night, felt guilty about the habit, and worried about health risks th
at she might be incurring. Laurie’s doctor suggested that she begin to take Antabuse, which would stop her drinking, so she could then more clearly evaluate the impact it was having on her life. Laurie looked up Alcoholics Anonymous on the Internet and attended a few meetings on the other side of town. A few of the people who spoke during the meetings seemed strongly opposed to taking any type of medication. One man had made fun of therapists.
As Laurie’s inability to quit drinking on her own became more clear and her desperation for a change in her life increased, she contacted a local outpatient treatment program by telephone. As is often the case with substance abusers, Laurie could not articulate the specific damage that her daily drinking was doing in her life, but she lived with a sense of unease that things were not as they should be. The outpatient treatment counselor suggested that Laurie come in for treatment, which would last a hundred days. She would attend three-hour meetings three times a week, and the cost would be over three thousand dollars. Because Laurie’s insurance would not pay for treatment, she faced a dilemma common to addicts: Is the cost really worth it? Is my problem really that bad?
Laurie also courageously disclosed her concerns to the pastor of her church. He suggested that she attend church more regularly and wondered if she was really serious about her faith.
She did see one therapist who was on her insurance. He told her that Antabuse could really damage her liver. He didn’t think that Alcoholics Anonymous worked and suggested that they do weekly therapy. He wanted to start by talking about her relationship with her father.
Laurie saw another counselor who was more spiritual in her approach. She told Laurie that if she really understood herself and God’s love for her, she wouldn’t want to drink. Laurie really liked this therapist but continued to drink the whole time that she saw her.
Laurie’s story reflects the reality in many addicts’ lives and the lives of their families. From the outside, her life doesn’t look out of control. Does she really have a problem? Laurie’s story also reveals that identifying the true nature of the problem is complicated, and coming up with a solution seems almost impossible. It’s almost easier to diagnose the problem and solution for the homeless woman on the corner with the brown paper bag and the sign that says “I need a miracle. Please help me.”
Near the end of our consultation, I simply said, “You must feel so confused and alone in all of this.”
Laurie’s true agony and the growing destructive momentum of her life are revealed in the words she choked out: “I know I have a problem with alcohol. I fill up a large plastic glass every night with wine. Every night I drink wine, and sometimes I feel hung over in the morning. I’m participating in a Bible study on breaking free, and it has made me realize I have a problem, but I don’t want to bring this up at the Bible study. I’m sure no one there would understand. My husband drinks a lot too. He sometimes thinks it’s a problem and sometime doesn’t. Actually, the alcohol helps my marriage at times, because it loosens things up sexually. I wonder if I could just stop drinking, except for when we want to be sexually intimate. Oh, I don’t know; it all sounds so stupid. And I feel guilty all of the time.”
Every sentence in Laurie’s declaration betrays the grip that this addiction has on her heart and soul. Laurie believes she has found something that relieves the pain and stress of life and allows her to re-create her world for a few hours every day. I understand Laurie’s attachment to her nightly glass of wine. During my own drinking days, whenever I would hear of a friend or family member who was suffering illness, financial ruin, or any kind of distress, I would think, If only you knew my secret friend (alcohol). It makes everything better for a time.
I wanted to respond to Laurie with compassion and respect. She deserved both. Her secret, distress and her unsatisfying attempts at finding help revealed a woman desperate to drink and desperate to stop. I knew that she was caught, caught in the trap of addiction. On one hand, she wanted deepened passion for herself, her family, and her faith, and on the other hand, she wanted to spend all her passion in the predictable ritual of worship with her nightly Big Gulp cup of wine.
Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
—THE GOSPEL OF MATTHEW5
PICKING UP THE PIECES
I knew that for Laurie to find redemption, she needed to see more clearly the evidence of her addiction.
So far, all attempts to stop had only left her confused about her problem and its solution. Together we set out on a course to examine her life and look at the evidence. For every addict, four pieces of evidence are always present. These are four proofs or signs that addiction is at work. The evidence is revealed in four conclusions that addicts come to about themselves in the midst of the momentum of an addiction: I am Crazy, I am Alone, I am Unforgivable, and I am Hopeless. All four conclusions are not always present at the same time, but each will surface at some time during the addictive process.
In the rest of this chapter, we are going to look at these four conclusions, as well as begin to ask the questions that might lead us or our loved ones out of the rubble of addiction. It is important to note that these four pieces of evidence don’t apply just to substance abuse. They are present in the life of anyone who is worshiping at the altar of a god that promises relief and a sense of control, only to deliver more pain and chaos. One of my students who was not a substance abuser describes his own answer to the question, “Am I an addict?” As you read his words about his addiction, you will see traces of his fear of his own craziness, his belief that he is all alone in his struggle, his fear that he is unforgivable, and his ultimate conclusion that he is hopeless:
I heard the stories of an alcoholic drinking and then vowing to never drink and pouring the liquor down the drain. And I thought of myself, young and scared, in my family room, looking at images [on the computer] late at night and then quickly deleting it all, clean up the computer, leave no trace, and VOW, “Never again! That’s it, never again.” I heard about the drug addicts who would be so high they would have to drink to go to sleep, and I thought of myself struggling and fighting to resist. Don’t do it, you don’t want to, but I do, no you don’t, yes I do, but you shouldn’t, but I want to …. I would fight in my mind for hours, lying awake, unable to sleep. Finally, just look, get it over with, you can’t win anyway … And then the tears. I remembered when the tears stopped. I remember when I stopped fighting. I remember when I stopped caring. I remember when I stopped asking for forgiveness. I remember when I just gave in. And that is why I am really an addict.
I AM CRAZY
Craziness is best defined as “a commitment to a person, place, thing, or ideology that makes our lives unmanageable.” The stories of craziness in addiction are at times so extreme as to be nearly unbelievable. I worked with one woman who was obsessed with her pastor. She came to see me for counseling after she was caught climbing over the ceiling tiles in her church to eavesdrop on her pastor as she crouched above his office. I might have thought that she was certifiably crazy and referred her to the local psychiatric hospital if I hadn’t known my own craziness. In the midst of my own addiction, I would often determine that I was not going to drink. I would throw out my bottle, sometimes with alcohol still in it, and firmly plant the trash cans at the curb, willing the garbage collectors to take away my love-hate relationship with Smirnoff’s 80-proof vodka when they took away the trash the next morning. More times than not, however, I would creep out to the curb in the wee hours of the morning, crouch down behind the trash cans, and swig the rest of the alcohol, drinking straight from the bottle.
The question to ask when you hear or experience stories of addicted craziness is, what do you understand of desire? Why would an otherwise sane person get trapped in a momentum that renders his or her life unmanageable? The answer is desire. Desire is intended to be the fuel of human relationships. It propels us to want to engage with others and with God. God made us to hunger for relat
ionships. Addicts are ensnared when they believe that they can completely and continually satisfy that hunger with something that ultimately devours them.
The New Testament explains how desire can open the door to crazy behavior. The apostle Paul writes, “[God] puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we’ll never settle for less.” God created us to want belonging, security, peace, beauty, acceptance, rest … more. And yet the reality is that we are in a “stopover in an unfurnished shack, and we’re tired of it!”6 Addicts experience a taste of heaven—in a Death by Chocolate dessert, exciting sexual intimacy, a new outfit purchased at the mall, or a five-thousand-dollar bonus for a month of hard work. Then we want heaven on earth all the time, and we become willing to go to crazy lengths to obtain it. Simply put, addiction arises when we turn something good into something bad. We eat a dozen doughnuts at one sitting, binge on pornography on the Internet, max out our credit cards, and work ourselves to the point of exhaustion. These are a few crazy behaviors fueled by desire. Addicts find that their longings for mutual, satisfying relationships are often disappointing, complicated, and out of their control, so they substitute a quick fix of something that seems more predictable and in their control.
Do you hear the craziness in Laurie’s story? There’s something about a suburban, middle-class soccer mom drinking an entire Big Gulp cup of wine every night that might make us smile. Or cry. Especially when you hear the desire in Laurie’s story. Her desire for connection with her children, for passion with her husband, for transparency with her Bible study, for self-respect for herself—these desires are all thwarted by the consuming relationship that Laurie is in with alcohol. Laurie’s addiction is a perfect example of desire gone awry. And although her craziness may not seem extreme, the cry of Laurie’s heart is excruciating: “Why do I keep doing what I don’t want to do and can’t seem to do what I really want to do?” Hers is the true cry of an addict.
The Last Addiction Page 2
