One of our newer managers suddenly disappeared last week. He took with him some $500 of company cash, but nothing else. He didn't even take his clothes or personal belongings.
We're never shocked when managers leave suddenly and take TLC money with them. However, this man's departure was sort of a surprise to us all. He was one of our up and coming new managers. He was energetic, always spending time improving the house. There was rarely a time when we visited when he wasn't supervising a painting project or doing something with the landscaping. He attended meetings and seemed to apply program principles in his daily life.
However, nobody's perfect. And this manager had his flaws, as do all of our managers. But we felt we were able to work with this man’s issues. A major defect was his huge ego. It didn't make any difference if he were dealing with a client or a probation officer, he sometimes let his ego take charge and the communication would end poorly. On more than one occasion we had to send him back to apologize, to make amends for his behavior. This aspect of his character was the topic of several counseling sessions. In fact, he was required – after one incident – to write a daily paragraph about his ego. After a week of writing he was required to write a final paper about his ego, an exercise to help him examine this aspect of his personality.
When he finally called for help, from a crack hotel in the area, we agreed to help him again. We sent a driver to bring him to one of our intake facilities. At intake he told the coordinator he’d relapsed because I’d made him write about his ego.
His remark didn't surprise me at all. Until I was ready to get sober my ego told me that everyone else was the problem. Me? I was just a poor, misunderstood, addict and alcoholic. And the world had it in for me. Fortunately, our former manager made it back alive. And we're willing to help him once more.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Had my brother lived he would have been 70 years old yesterday. However, he could never get the sobriety thing right and eventually succumbed in 2001 from years of drinking, smoking and drug abuse.
Robert made a few feeble attempts at recovery. However, he couldn’t relate to the people in the 12-step rooms. He used to say, “I’m not like those other guys.” And then he would go on to talk about what he used to have before life forced him into a recovery program. However, he had a selective memory, one that recalled what life was like prior to the last few years of his drinking. He was remembering when he had a home in the desert outside Palm Springs, California and a source of income from the odd jobs he held from time-to-time. By the time he finally entered a TLC recovery program in Las Vegas, Nevada, he’d wrecked the truck in which he’d been living and was homeless. He remained at the recovery program for several months, but abruptly left one day in a fit of anger. As he left the program he told the manager, "fuck you, and fuck TLC." He was dead six months later.
In spite of my differences with my brother I loved him and wish today that he’d been as blessed as I have been in finding recovery.
Robert made a few feeble attempts at recovery. However, he couldn’t relate to the people in the 12-step rooms. He used to say, “I’m not like those other guys.” And then he would go on to talk about what he used to have before life forced him into a recovery program. However, he had a selective memory, one that recalled what life was like prior to the last few years of his drinking. He was remembering when he had a home in the desert outside Palm Springs, California and a source of income from the odd jobs he held from time-to-time. By the time he finally entered a TLC recovery program in Las Vegas, Nevada, he’d wrecked the truck in which he’d been living and was homeless. He remained at the recovery program for several months, but abruptly left one day in a fit of anger. As he left the program he told the manager, "fuck you, and fuck TLC." He was dead six months later.
In spite of my differences with my brother I loved him and wish today that he’d been as blessed as I have been in finding recovery.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
One influence on the length of time clients spend at TLC is their dependent children. Many times a family sends loved ones to our program in hopes they'll get sober and return to raise their children. But sometimes clients aren't able to spend the time they need working on their recovery before they must leave to care for their offspring. This reality often works to the detriment of all concerned.
This appears to affect women more than men. It seems to be easier for men to find help to care for their children while they're in recovery. Or else fathers have been estranged from their families for so long that the mothers have obtained custody by default. And sometimes authorities have removed the children from the parents. This seems particularly true in the case of clients who are in their mid-30s and older, but still haven’t achieved sobriety.
The was illustrated for me again in last night's aftercare group. A thirty-something woman, whose children live with her family halfway across the country, was torn between wanting to be with her children and the reality that she needed to stay at TLC for her recovery. As she talked about her children, tears began wet her cheeks. But she reaffirmed she must stay where she was. Even though she’d committed to stay in our program for only 90 days, she realized she should stay until she gets it right.
And she was grateful to have family members who love the children and who are willing to care for them while she finishes her program.
This appears to affect women more than men. It seems to be easier for men to find help to care for their children while they're in recovery. Or else fathers have been estranged from their families for so long that the mothers have obtained custody by default. And sometimes authorities have removed the children from the parents. This seems particularly true in the case of clients who are in their mid-30s and older, but still haven’t achieved sobriety.
The was illustrated for me again in last night's aftercare group. A thirty-something woman, whose children live with her family halfway across the country, was torn between wanting to be with her children and the reality that she needed to stay at TLC for her recovery. As she talked about her children, tears began wet her cheeks. But she reaffirmed she must stay where she was. Even though she’d committed to stay in our program for only 90 days, she realized she should stay until she gets it right.
And she was grateful to have family members who love the children and who are willing to care for them while she finishes her program.
Friday, March 4, 2011
In an aftercare group clients were discussing how difficult it is to change behaviors so they can stay clean and sober.
One quoted a saying that went like this: "most people would rather live with a known misery than take a chance on an unknown joy." The consensus was, as the topic went around the circle, that there's a certain amount of security in living with what we know versus facing the unknown of bringing something new into our lives.
Another mentioned an article that had recently appeared in Fast Company magazine. The title was "Change – Or Die." The article described that 9 of 10 open heart surgery patients, when told by doctors they would die if they didn't change their habits, wouldn't change.
Fear, according to the article, was not enough of a motivating factor to make them start exercising, quit smoking, and begin eating a healthy diet. The one thing that seemed to encourage change was not fear of death, but the promise of the better life they would have if they made positive changes. When patients were told they’d be able to play with their grandchildren, enjoy better sex with their wife, or be able to play sports again, then they might change.
From that statement we segued into ways addicts might continue to stay sober. Would they be able to stay sober if someone explained the positive benefits they'd enjoy if they did so? And what would those positive benefits be?
A few, who’d experienced periods of sobriety, mentioned several benefits that came when they finally had a period of abstinence. Among these were better relationships with their families, less anxiety because they weren't afraid of the law anymore, and improved health. All reaffirmed that the threat of incarceration, death, or commitment to us insane asylum, never stopped them from drinking or doing drugs.
And many were living testimonials to the fact that fear was not a deterring factor. Some had spent time in prison. Others had been in mental institutions. And a few had been in comas for more than a week because of drug and alcohol overdoses.
One quoted a saying that went like this: "most people would rather live with a known misery than take a chance on an unknown joy." The consensus was, as the topic went around the circle, that there's a certain amount of security in living with what we know versus facing the unknown of bringing something new into our lives.
Another mentioned an article that had recently appeared in Fast Company magazine. The title was "Change – Or Die." The article described that 9 of 10 open heart surgery patients, when told by doctors they would die if they didn't change their habits, wouldn't change.
Fear, according to the article, was not enough of a motivating factor to make them start exercising, quit smoking, and begin eating a healthy diet. The one thing that seemed to encourage change was not fear of death, but the promise of the better life they would have if they made positive changes. When patients were told they’d be able to play with their grandchildren, enjoy better sex with their wife, or be able to play sports again, then they might change.
From that statement we segued into ways addicts might continue to stay sober. Would they be able to stay sober if someone explained the positive benefits they'd enjoy if they did so? And what would those positive benefits be?
A few, who’d experienced periods of sobriety, mentioned several benefits that came when they finally had a period of abstinence. Among these were better relationships with their families, less anxiety because they weren't afraid of the law anymore, and improved health. All reaffirmed that the threat of incarceration, death, or commitment to us insane asylum, never stopped them from drinking or doing drugs.
And many were living testimonials to the fact that fear was not a deterring factor. Some had spent time in prison. Others had been in mental institutions. And a few had been in comas for more than a week because of drug and alcohol overdoses.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Sometimes resentment can be all-consuming. A TLC client held a burning resentment at a relative who'd molested his younger sister. He said he couldn't understand how anyone could have done something like that.
I had several discussions with the client about this issue. I agreed with him that what his sister had gone through was horrible. And what his relative had done was indefensible and deserving of the punishment he received. But then I shared with him what I'd once heard about resentment: it's like taking a poison pill and waiting for the other person to die. When I heard this aphorism in a 12-step meeting, I immediately recognized it as true. And often times, ironically, the person we’re angry at doesn't know we're angry.
I heard a speaker at a 12 step convention one time explain this point so succinctly. He said his sponsor had asked him to make a list of his resentments. He worked on the list diligently. In fact, it grew to several pages. The speaker was so proud of his work that he took it to a print shop and had a fancy cover put on it. When he met his sponsor he proudly presented his work. He said it angered him when the sponsor took the book, and without even looking at it, dropped it in a nearby trashcan.
"What did you do that?" The speaker asked his sponsor angrily.
"You know," said the sponsor, “the people on that list don't even know you have a resentment or that you’re angry at them. And the ones who do know are happy you're mad at them."
The speaker went on to say that the experience with his sponsor made him realize resentments were futile. At that point he changed the way he dealt with them.
Before ending this discussion with our client I encouraged him to forgive the relative who’d committed the offense against his sister. And I explained to him what I had been taught: that forgiving does not mean forgetting or condoning. It's just a healthy step to help us not to walk around with a capsule of poison inside of us.
I had several discussions with the client about this issue. I agreed with him that what his sister had gone through was horrible. And what his relative had done was indefensible and deserving of the punishment he received. But then I shared with him what I'd once heard about resentment: it's like taking a poison pill and waiting for the other person to die. When I heard this aphorism in a 12-step meeting, I immediately recognized it as true. And often times, ironically, the person we’re angry at doesn't know we're angry.
I heard a speaker at a 12 step convention one time explain this point so succinctly. He said his sponsor had asked him to make a list of his resentments. He worked on the list diligently. In fact, it grew to several pages. The speaker was so proud of his work that he took it to a print shop and had a fancy cover put on it. When he met his sponsor he proudly presented his work. He said it angered him when the sponsor took the book, and without even looking at it, dropped it in a nearby trashcan.
"What did you do that?" The speaker asked his sponsor angrily.
"You know," said the sponsor, “the people on that list don't even know you have a resentment or that you’re angry at them. And the ones who do know are happy you're mad at them."
The speaker went on to say that the experience with his sponsor made him realize resentments were futile. At that point he changed the way he dealt with them.
Before ending this discussion with our client I encouraged him to forgive the relative who’d committed the offense against his sister. And I explained to him what I had been taught: that forgiving does not mean forgetting or condoning. It's just a healthy step to help us not to walk around with a capsule of poison inside of us.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
"So how do you think your house ranked for the month of February?" I asked one of our newer managers.
"Oh we probably came in somewhere around the bottom," he replied, sounding depressed.
"Well," I told him slowly, "I hate to ruin your day. But your location came in number one among the men's houses." I heard nothing on the other end of the phone for a moment but silence.
"I can't believe it," he responded. "I really thought we would come in somewhere around the bottom."
To be honest, I was also surprised he came in number one. Each time I’d talk to him he’d tell me how many problems he was having keeping clients, finding them jobs, and keeping them from leaving when they got paid. Most conversations with him were a litany of how bad things were, and how poor a job he was doing.
One thing we constantly encounter with our managers - and clients - is lack of self-esteem. If I ask in a counseling group for clients to talk about their negative points, most of them ramble on about the terrible things they've done and what bad people they are. However, if I ask them to talk about their good points, most become tongue-tied and can’t last more than a few minutes. And many have done bad things in their addictions. But there is good and bad in everyone's history.
It‘s not always easy for newly sober people to strike a balance between having no self-esteem and having a huge out-of-control ego. Walking the middle road between these two aspects of our personality is an ongoing learning experience. We teach clients to find this middle road in self-esteem groups. Self-esteem seems to be a popular topic among our clients and most participate with enthusiasm.
It‘s refreshing to see a client who’s totally depressed about past behavior start to come to grips with it. Often times they can't see anything positive about their life today. They're living in a halfway house recovery program, they're not making much money, and they're often estranged from family and friends. In these situations I ask them to look at their present situation to find something to feel good about. Many times they are at a loss. In these cases, I ask them to look at the fact that they’re staying sober. They're not in jail. They have a home and they're working on rebuilding their lives. Even though they don't recognize it, this can be the most important aspect of their life – especially at this moment.
When I put it in this perspective most of them can find a way to look at their lives that will help them gain hope and feel a little better. Then their self-esteem might grow.
"Oh we probably came in somewhere around the bottom," he replied, sounding depressed.
"Well," I told him slowly, "I hate to ruin your day. But your location came in number one among the men's houses." I heard nothing on the other end of the phone for a moment but silence.
"I can't believe it," he responded. "I really thought we would come in somewhere around the bottom."
To be honest, I was also surprised he came in number one. Each time I’d talk to him he’d tell me how many problems he was having keeping clients, finding them jobs, and keeping them from leaving when they got paid. Most conversations with him were a litany of how bad things were, and how poor a job he was doing.
One thing we constantly encounter with our managers - and clients - is lack of self-esteem. If I ask in a counseling group for clients to talk about their negative points, most of them ramble on about the terrible things they've done and what bad people they are. However, if I ask them to talk about their good points, most become tongue-tied and can’t last more than a few minutes. And many have done bad things in their addictions. But there is good and bad in everyone's history.
It‘s not always easy for newly sober people to strike a balance between having no self-esteem and having a huge out-of-control ego. Walking the middle road between these two aspects of our personality is an ongoing learning experience. We teach clients to find this middle road in self-esteem groups. Self-esteem seems to be a popular topic among our clients and most participate with enthusiasm.
It‘s refreshing to see a client who’s totally depressed about past behavior start to come to grips with it. Often times they can't see anything positive about their life today. They're living in a halfway house recovery program, they're not making much money, and they're often estranged from family and friends. In these situations I ask them to look at their present situation to find something to feel good about. Many times they are at a loss. In these cases, I ask them to look at the fact that they’re staying sober. They're not in jail. They have a home and they're working on rebuilding their lives. Even though they don't recognize it, this can be the most important aspect of their life – especially at this moment.
When I put it in this perspective most of them can find a way to look at their lives that will help them gain hope and feel a little better. Then their self-esteem might grow.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Sometimes I don't realize how good my life is. This came to my attention yesterday when I met a couple at a social event who seemed the epitome of success. They live in a ritzy part of the community, own a business that generates millions, and seem happy.
Yet, when I began talking to the wife I realize that all was not as it appeared. Even though this couple obviously has resources to do whatever they want they seemed to be tethered to their business. I realized this as the wife began excitedly telling me about a two day trip she and her husband are taking to Las Vegas, which is only a few hundred miles from metropolitan Phoenix, Arizona.
"We've never been on a vacation in the 20 years we've been married," she told me. I felt strange when she said that. In fact, it took a moment to sort out my feelings and respond. Then I told her my fiancée and I were leaving soon to spend two weeks at a resort in Mexico. I also told her that we had just returned in December from a 10 day vacation to Maui. Because it wasn't my business how they live I said nothing more. But still, it seemed incomprehensible to me that someone with their resources wouldn't take a vacation every few months.
I believe we should enjoy life every day. I got sober to stop the pain and enjoy life to the fullest. I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor. While I like having stuff I don’t work solely to possess things. I don't believe possessions, in themselves, can bring happiness. For me, experiences bring happiness. Money, homes, businesses, can all bring pleasure. But owning them doesn't make me happy. It's what I do with these things that bring me happiness. And one thing I like to do is vacation. I like to spend time with my sweetheart in exotic locales. I enjoy unwinding after a long bout of work.
To me it's sad to have everything in the world but not be able to enjoy it. Squirreling money away for a future comfortable retirement is great. But I also need to enjoy what I have while I'm healthy enough and young enough to enjoy it.
Yet, when I began talking to the wife I realize that all was not as it appeared. Even though this couple obviously has resources to do whatever they want they seemed to be tethered to their business. I realized this as the wife began excitedly telling me about a two day trip she and her husband are taking to Las Vegas, which is only a few hundred miles from metropolitan Phoenix, Arizona.
"We've never been on a vacation in the 20 years we've been married," she told me. I felt strange when she said that. In fact, it took a moment to sort out my feelings and respond. Then I told her my fiancée and I were leaving soon to spend two weeks at a resort in Mexico. I also told her that we had just returned in December from a 10 day vacation to Maui. Because it wasn't my business how they live I said nothing more. But still, it seemed incomprehensible to me that someone with their resources wouldn't take a vacation every few months.
I believe we should enjoy life every day. I got sober to stop the pain and enjoy life to the fullest. I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor. While I like having stuff I don’t work solely to possess things. I don't believe possessions, in themselves, can bring happiness. For me, experiences bring happiness. Money, homes, businesses, can all bring pleasure. But owning them doesn't make me happy. It's what I do with these things that bring me happiness. And one thing I like to do is vacation. I like to spend time with my sweetheart in exotic locales. I enjoy unwinding after a long bout of work.
To me it's sad to have everything in the world but not be able to enjoy it. Squirreling money away for a future comfortable retirement is great. But I also need to enjoy what I have while I'm healthy enough and young enough to enjoy it.
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