Step 1:  We admitted we were powerless over [our addictions] - that our lives had become unmanageable.

When an addiction develops, it begins with thoughts.  If pondered, the thoughts move on to words and then deeds.  Repeated deeds become habits and habits, if not checked, can become addictions.  The line between habit and addiction is the line where we literally check our freedom to choose at the door. 

Many of us get there because we followed after a pseudo-freedom.  We rebelled against the "thou shalt nots" in our life.  We thought we were free to do as we pleased and that we didn't want to be shackled by the do's and don'ts of another generation.  By the time we figured out that this promise of freedom was a lie, we thought it was too late.  We felt shackled and trapped and helpless and hopeless.  There was no true self-esteem left.

There was, however, a false pride left.  We hung on to that like a drowning man to a raft because we thought that was all we had left.  "At least I still have my pride," we said. 

Carl Jung was a famous psychologist and psychiatrist contemporary with Freud.  He once wrote that all neuroses are substitutes for legitimate suffering.  We find something painful or distasteful, so we cover it up with a variety of defense mechanisms such as rationalization, avoidance, or repression.  Eventually, that becomes difficult to hold on to, so we layer other mechanisms on top of that.  Pretty soon, we have more layers than an onion until the original pain we wanted to avoid is lost beneath the load.  Because of the human tendency toward pride, we found it difficult to admit that we needed to change because change is painful, so we continued to add layers until finally the pain of maintaining the defenses against the original pain became more painful that the original pain itself and more painful than the pain of change.  That's when we either seek help or we implode upon ourselves.

It is difficult to admit to myself: my life is out-of-control.  Things are a mess.  It makes me feel weak and substandard.  But you are not weak when you seek help.  I used to tell my counseling clients (children) to repeat to themselves: "I am strong and smart when I get help."*  The alternative can be disastrous.  The saddest thing I ever heard was a 12-year-old student in a detention center (transferred there from a hospital detox after OD'ing) who said, "I guess I did it because I finally realized that there were not enough drugs in the world to cover up my pain anymore."  

Let go of pride.  Find the courage to say, "I need help!"  In that, remember, you truly are strong and smart.

* Kudos to Bonnie Patricia Peplow who originated the strong and smart phrase.

 

Text © 2012 Gebara Education

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