FAMILIES ARE VICTIMS OF ADDICTION, TOO

Just For Today

In the rooms of recovery, it's known as a "pink elephant."

It's a term most often used to describe the attitudes of family
members and close friends regarding our drug addiction. It's like a
pink elephant sitting in the middle of the family living room -- no
one wants to talk about it or acknowledge that they see it, so it just
sits there, the rest of us -- addict included -- pretending like it
doesn't exist.

And the whole time, it grows bigger.

Family members of alcoholics and drug addicts don't really know how to
handle our disease. Before we get clean, we don't often realize we
have a disease ourselves, so how can we expect our family members to
treat us with dignity? The stigma of drug and alcohol addiction is
often a cruel one -- it's an albatross we carry around our necks, and
it only gets heavier the longer our addiction goes untreated.

We're labeled as weak-willed, immoral people. We lie and con and
manipulate. We steal and hurt those who love us the most.

Most of the time, we don't understand why we do it. I know I didn't.
The only thing driving me was that incessant need, that 2-ton monkey
sitting on my shoulder, driving me to do whatever it took to get the
drugs I needed. I stole from my family, lied to them about it,
promised never to let it happen again -- and always failed. I promised
to cut back on my drinking, or quit altogether, and always ended up
blacking out the next time I drank at all. I always told myself and
the few friends who knew that I'd wean myself off those pain pills,
and then swallow 10 or 15 at a time, several times a day.

I couldn't understand why I couldn't stop -- I always thought I was a
strong guy. Until I learned it was a disease driving my behavior, I
thought I was pretty much a scummy lowlife destined to lie and betray
those who loved me.

And our family members ... I can't even imagine what my mother and
father must have felt like, the confusion over having provided a
decent upbringing and the betrayal over being robbed and lied to.

It's a vicious cycle -- our addiction drives us to do despicable
things, and the guilt and shame we feel over doing those things drives
us to use more drugs, which in turn drives us to do those despicable
things to pay for them. That's how our addiction continues, and that's
how we continue to hurt those who love us.

And the maddening thing about it is that, every time, we promise to
stop and to change -- and we mean it. It's not like we make those
promises with our fingers crossed, plotting about how we'll sneak the
silverware out under our shirts or get into a pocketbook when
someone's not looking.

We really, truly mean it when we make those promises, and when we say
we're sorry. Take it from a guy who knows what it's like to be
consumed for stealing his mom's credit card and pawning his
girlfriend's jewelry -- no one beats us up like we do ourselves over
the things we do.

For me, it took realizing that I had to be willing to do something
about my problem. I had to change my life and do it the way I saw it
working for other people -- through a 12-step program of recovery. I
had to work that program and just let time take its course.

I couldn't expect my parents to welcome me back with open arms and let
bygones be bygones just because I'd dried out for a week at Peninsula
and moved into a halfway house. Years of destruction and lies had
taken their toll -- the only thing that would heal those wounds was
showing them by example that I had changed.

Sometimes, that healing process can take years, because while we have
fellow addicts to help us get better and change our lives -- and guide
us through the 12 Steps, one of which is to make amends to those we've
harmed -- our family members and loved ones often become even more
jaded and angry.

They see our hurt and pain and guilt ebb the more we stay clean, but
for them, it's hard letting go of the resentments we've fostered. For
those people, I have to recommend a recovery program designed
especially for family members and loved ones: Al-Anon. As much as my
program has helped me, I've seen Al-Anon make a world of difference in
the lives of those who give it a chance.

In Al-Anon, you'll find others who have been hurt by those they care
about due to alcohol and drugs. And you'll find a way to heal those
wounds to your own spirit, and well as a way to one day repair the
rifts in the relationship between you and the addict or alcoholic in
your own life.

Al-Anon has meets across East Tennessee. If you're struggling to cope
with an addict or alcoholic you love, either one who still uses or one
who's in recovery, give them a call at 525-9040, or drop by the
group's regional office at 1409 E. Magnolia Ave. in Knoxville. Check
out the Daily Calendar in Wednesday's edition of The Daily Times,
where you'll find several local Al-Anon meeting times and locations.
Give it a chance.

It just might make a world of difference.