The Habit of Substance Use

Once my brother came clean it about his Substance Use Disorder, it became apparent that ALL of us were suffering with dependencies that were creating one unmanageable crisis after another. A dependency, or a compulsion, is a coping strategy that we use to calm, numb, or benefit ourselves in ways that we use to excess. We are in “excess” when our behaviors begin to have consequences. Too restless, irritable and discontent to get out of bed in the morning and go to work? I may be using sleeping in EXCESS to cope with my depression, hangover, or have a disturbed sleep cycle - a host of possibilities but all related to this one true thing: our “excess” is disrupting our life.

My brother’s cocaine addiction, unlike my own eating disorder, caused him to break out in handcuffs, lose jobs, and generally manage to infuriate anyone who tried to maintain a relationship with him. He lied, he cheated, he stole. I lied in ways that were equally damaging but a teeny tiny bit less obvious than his dramatic crash and burns. In fact, his own propensity to get into massive amounts of trouble served to mask the dysfunction of our family system in general and in particular our individual issues.

The crisis created by my brother’s treatment for drug addiction provided an opportunity for our family to take time to assess the dynamics at play in our family system. Problems that seemed obvious to others about our family were revelations to us. Secrets were exposed. My eating disorder was named. The rigid roles that each family member played, the enabling, the lying, a lot of these realities rose to our collective consciousness. (Again, this was not everyone’s perspective.) Suddenly, what we thought of as normal shifted. We realized how unmanageable our lives were - the conflicts, the financial strain of dealing with my brother’s issues, the unhealthy ways my parents coped with their stress, the resentments we held against one another but never discussed. We were taught that all of this was related to the disease of addiction. It was a multi-generational problem. Both the affliction and the maladaptive coping skills associated with addiction were passed down through our family tree much like the family silver and a few pieces of good jewelry. When we take our first step the focus rightfully belongs on our own particular brand of compulsivity. But it is also helpful to realize that when one family member suffers from Substance Use Disorder, the entire family system is also suffering various forms of sickness marked by denial, unmanageability, powerlessness and resistance to solving problems.

But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can’t keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don’t have what it takes. I can will it, but I can’t do it. I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time. Romans 7:17-20 The Message

Compulsivity is a problem

Stereotypes are naughty; they are a way we over-simplify and try to find patterns to understand our world. Our brain loves patterns; it craves understanding. If it can find a pattern, it can go into lazy mode. Ever driven from home to the gym only to arrive and remember not a single thing about the drive? That’s your brain remembering a pattern. How often have you started out for the grocery store and ended up at a craft store? Clearly, we are going to the craft store more often than Kroger’s. Auto pilot. This tendency to develop habits and predict patterns can get ugly if it turns into a compulsion. A compulsion can turn into a dependency.

My brother’s Substance Use Disorder was as simple and as complicated as anyone else who struggles with this disease. Our understanding of it shifted over the years, often in sync with our collective cultural awakening to the nature of the affliction. Today, the DSM-5 (The Diagnostic and Statistical manual of Mental Disorders) characterizes Substance Use Disorder as a “Recurrent use of alcohol or other drugs that causes clinically and functionally-significant impairment, such as health problems, disability, failure to meet major responsibilities at work, school or home.”

Whatever we “use” compulsively eventually turns on us; it never delivers on its promise to make us feel “normal” or “happy” or “capable.” This is the human condition - we search for shortcuts that we hope will fulfill us. This affliction is physiological, mental, emotional and spiritual in nature. All elements of our body, mind and spirit are impacted by the disorder.

My people are broken—shattered!—and they put on Band-Aids, saying, ‘It’s not so bad. You’ll be just fine.’ But things are not ‘just fine’! Jeremiah 6:14 The Message

Today, consider your habits. Really think about it. Things you say habitually without really thinking about your words? Like assuming a group of people are all alike? Habitual ways you think about yourself - often negative but sometimes too positive as well? Your brain can get too hooked into your patterns; for this work, consider your heart.

Going the Distance

In Paul’s letters, he encourages consideration from believers toward one another. He is not talking about opening doors for ladies. He’s allowing for the vulnerabilities found in communities and asking those who do not suffer the same issues to respect the struggle of others. He talks about food preferences; he asks folks to respect their brothers and sisters who take a more narrow view of godly eating and not make it hard for them to follow their rules. He makes a statement - hey, just because it is not a sin, does that make the action you are contemplating beneficial?

I think about these things when I overhear two women talk about “snowflakes” and “millennials” as fragile and too sensitive. Paul says, be considerate. That requires a certain sensitivity, or at least a little civility. Or even self-awareness. Everyone is sensitive about the things they are sensitive about. Sheesh.

We have learned over the years how shaming and judgmental words like “alcoholic” and “addict” can be for folks. In an effort to reduce stigma, the preferred terminology today is “Substance Use Disorder” (SUD). This is helpful because it is more accurate - it indicates that this malady is on a spectrum and provides a framework consistent with observations about the disease. Words matter.

That said, some of my friends in recovery have worked long and hard to come to acceptance about their disease. They cannot get on board with this new lingo. It is part of their acceptance to specifically name their disorder - “alcoholic”, “addict”, etc. Wherever you land in the discussion, it might be helpful to think of the issue like this: there may be adjectives that I can use to describe myself that are inappropriate or unadvisable for you to use to describe me. SUDers may find using more specific labels helpful; the rest of us show more respect when we get with the program and use less stigmatizing language.

And finally, be gentle. Be kind. Because when you sit at Starbucks and talk about snowflakes and millennials in a disparaging manner, it causes me to sin. I judge you. And this is a problem for me. So help me be a better person. Please stop calling all white men bad, millennials fragile, attractive women floozies, addicts losers, the homeless annoying, and all the other stereotypes we consciously and unconsciously use to justify our cruelty.

Tomorrow will be different

In Richmond, we say if you do not like the weather, wait a day because it will surely change. This is good soul care advice too. I suspect we all find greater equanimity and peace when we realize that our highs and lows and in-betweens shift and morph and change. The mountain top experiences are lovely but temporary; as are the deep valleys of despair.

Whether I find myself up high or way down low, I remember this:

You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,

that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.

Psalm 30:11, 12 NIV

My own view of life is shifting. It helps me, and I hope it is helpful for you too, to know that there is ALWAYS the possibility that God will gift us with singing hearts and joy. When I ran away from home that Spring Break oh so many years ago, I finished my quiet time and strapped on my boots. I went for a long hike. I RESOLVED to choose to believe that my wailing was valid but not permanent. I went looking for joy; I’ve practiced the discipline of joy for so long now that most days I find her.

As I write this, I am at NSC and we are readying ourselves for our Saturday night service. I’m a voyeur as the band practices their set list. I listen as they discuss and choose and wrangle over chord progressions. I am reminded how hard they work to sing and play for us and in this I recognize the joy. They practice; they prepare. Tonight, the music will pour out. It will be a sacrificial offering. And I am lucky enough to know what that costs them and the joy they receive from the offering. Joy is a beautiful contagious lover of God and his people.

One final thought on joy; I cannot find her in isolation. All my joy stories revolve around others. I do not know what this means, only that it is true for me. Where do you find joy? Are you looking for her like a jealous lover?

Hope and despair

Once, many years ago, I was in a despair the likes of which I could not shake. Scott was at Va. Tech in school; Meredith was far away working; Pete was out of town. Michael was in high school and on Spring Break. I needed hope so desperately and my skin, my being, could not stay at home and go to work one more day in such a state of hopelessness.

I asked Michael if he would agree to a road trip, and he was kind enough to oblige. We threw some stuff in a bag and headed west. I dropped Michael off at Scott’s apartment in Blacksburg for a guys’ night, and I went to a local hotel. It was nothing special but this is what you get in Blacksburg with no notice.

That night I was in bed as soon as I got to the room; I woke early the next morning, went out to get coffee and a breakfast sandwich and returned to the solitude of the rented room. I transferred the steaming coffee into my favorite mug and retrieved my quiet time materials. Then I sat. I just sat. I reminded myself that I sit because there is a God and I am not him. I sit to honor his presence, without expecting to hear his voice. It is enough to sit. I sat until I could bear to listen. Then I opened my tattered copy of “Rooted In God’s Love” and turned to the next entry, finding this prayer from Dale and Juanita Ryan:

Lord of joy,

Lord of celebration,

open my heart to the possibility of joy today.

Help me to tolerate the confusion

that comes when sorrow and joy live side by side in my heart.

Give me the courage to

joyfully celebrate life.

Amen

Without a lot of fanfare, my mind opened to a new way of seeing - unbidden and undeserved - hope showed up in the nick of time. I saw how my day-to-day activities often created the illusion that life was more sorrow than joy. As my vision “corrected,” I grabbed my journal and out flowed the joy. The moment I turned and looked at my boys the previous evening, so glad to be together with game controllers in hand. The beauty of the coming Spring evident in the Virginia mountains that I so deeply love. On and on my joy poured out on the pages of my notebook. None of this was news to me, but it had ALL been forgotten. I was bogged down in confusion and sorrow, missing the joy that lived side by side in my heart.

So my friend, as we work to “get it right” - which is a good thing, we must find time to connect to our joy. We sit and wait on the Lord to give us the gift of hope - a gift that comes with no strings. But we also “get it right” as we take time to rightly remember. Look for the joy. Sorrow is a needy beast always yapping at our heels for our attention. Joy is far kinder and more polite. She waits for us to notice her, sitting patiently, eager to connect with us. Friends - find the joy! Then spread it around all willy nilly!