Doing too Much

We deal with many angry young clients who blame their parents for doing too much.

     “My parents did everything for me.”

     “They never taught me to be responsible.”

     “They bought me off with money and cars.”

And the level of anger from some of these clients is astonishing. If the parents had any idea of what their largesse would do to the relationship I’m sure they would have saved the money.

These offspring often end up with us when the parents tire of the stream of money flowing from their bank accounts to drug dealers. And then the anger from the kids follows.

However, as clients become successful in their sobriety, they also begin to learn what they should have learned at home from their parents.

We sometimes have to start at ground zero. And that means we have to teach them personal care like making their own bed, cleaning their living areas and bathrooms, and budgeting their money. Many of them don’t know how to apply for a job, turn on utilities, or apply for a license – many of the fundamentals of daily living.

As parents our job is teach our children take care of themselves. If we buy them off we sometimes doom them to a questionable future - one that includes addictions.

Saving the World

When I asked a newcomer addict what he planned to do with his life he responded with a grandiose plan.

“I want to change the environment,” he said. “Stop global warming.”

Since he was still withdrawing from heroin and had been with us only about five days I wasn’t terribly surprised by his statement. When we’re coming off a drug run we’re usually not thinking clearly.

My response was something like, “Well, maybe you could start by cleaning up your living area. Empty your trash, make your bed, and throw away the empty soda cups.” I pointed out that he was thinking of solving a world-wide problem, while in reality he was having troubling with the 32 square feet around his bed.

Of course that didn’t set well but he acknowledged that he might be a little too ambitious considering that hadn’t been to college and had never had a job. After all, shooting heroin and hustling to pay for it can be a full-time occupation that leaves little time for self-betterment.

This man’s ideas of changing the world seem to be a form of denial - a way of escaping the reality that he’s living in a recovery program because his life’s totally unmanageable.

Flights of fancy may be the only way he can feel some power over his life.

Not Reponsible

When I arrived at my office this morning there was already someone waiting for help – a former halfway house client who owed us nearly $700 from previous stays over the past 12 years.

He said he was homeless, broke, hungry, and out of work. He also had a court order to attend a year of classes for substance abuse – which he said he couldn’t afford.

Could we help by not charging him for classes? When I told him we couldn’t do that, that we had to pay our counselors for their services, he tried to make me feel guilty.

“So TLC’s all about money?” he said. “I thought you guys were about helping people.”

I told him that we were about helping people – helping them until they were able to help themselves. I told him he seemed smart enough and healthy enough to find a job and support himself – a comment that seemed to make him uncomfortable.

He made a few more attempts to change my mind. He was going to go to jail if he didn’t do the classes. He was from a small town in Northern Arizona and was unused to living in the city. His backpack was stolen.

Finally I offered him a bed in our long-term Hard Six program, which he could enter without money. But he declined, saying he wasn’t that desperate. When he left he said he was going to the homeless shelter in Phoenix.

This man is an example of those we can’t help until they realize they’re responsible for the predicament they’re in.

Subtle Denial

A subtle form of denial among newcomers is a focus on what they “need.” 

They’ll be okay if they get a job. Clothes. A little money in their pocket. Maybe a chance to go out to dinner. Or take in a movie. A visit with their girlfriend. The “needs” go on and on.

And, to anyone listening, these so-called needs seem reasonable and understandable. Who could argue with someone enjoying what any ordinary citizen has? That’s good stuff. Right?

But – in over twenty years of working with addicts – I’ve found that a focus on the external and superficial is a predictor of failure.

Of course we must support ourselves with a job if we don’t have an income. And certainly a relationship with our family is important and necessary.

But most of us addicts had these things we think we need. But did they keep us sober and clean? You know the answer without me being boringly redundant.

The only thing we need to remain sober and change our lives is to focus on recovery. Jobs, money, family – in the short term these are irrelevant if recovery isn’t the priority.

Most of us have had these things, only to see them destroyed by our disease.

We get Calls

Part of this business is receiving bizarre phone calls, many outside business hours.

For example, yesterday I answered the phone around 6:00 a.m.  And a woman I don’t know greeted me with “I’m going to sue you.”

I wasn't alarmed because someone threatens to sue about once a month. But I was curious enough to ask why.

“Because you told my boyfriend I was getting high,” she replied. She slurred her words, indicating she was still buzzed on something.

I spent a while calmly assuring her that her boyfriend – a TLC employee - didn't need my insight to figure out if she was high. He could discover that with a phone call. Then she told me about the restraining order she was getting to keep him from calling. When I suggested a simpler solution might be to change her number - or simply not answer - she hung up.

A few minutes later my wife asked me to listen to a voice message that had come in at 3:00 a.m. from a man who was incredibly drunk.

We listened for a moment to his ranting. Among his comments were that he could tell by her first name that she was fat.  He also shared that he couldn't have sex because he had genital herpes and thus couldn't find a girlfriend. He added that he’d figured out by my wife’s voice message that she had Tourette syndrome. He also said he’d turned down a friend’s suggestion that he wear high heels - because he was already too tall.

Years ago these communications used to irritate me. But today I realize that part of helping others into recovery is to sometimes listen to their ramblings and hope that maybe they’ll maybe call one day when they’re not so out of it.

Powerlessness

Yesterday’s news about another dead alcoholic cast a pall over the day, as can happen when someone we know succumbs to this disease.

His death reverberated through our community because we not only lost a friend, but also because it’s a stark reminder of the fate we’ll all share if we follow his path. It’s a sad reaffirmation that what we hear in the rooms and read in the 12-step literature will happen - if we don’t get serious about recovery.

Today I reflected upon how powerless we are when it comes to helping others. In the case of this man many reached out over and over. And just when it seemed he was getting it, when he appeared to be working the program, he’d disappear into the maelstrom of another relapse.

A week or two later we’d be getting garbled phone calls in the middle of the night as he begged once more for help. We’d eventually relent, thinking he might be serious this time.

But after a while his focus would shift from being grateful to worrying about the alcoholic girlfriend who “needed his help.” And before long he'd be back with her – and a bottle – once again.

Hopefully his passing will remind us of the powerful disease we face.

RIP Richard

In my blog January 19 I wrote about two former clients, one successful, the other still struggling with alcohol.

Then yesterday Phoenix police contacted us to locate next-of-kin for a former client, Richard S, who finally lost his struggle.

Though police gave no details, the consensus among those of us who’d worked with him this past four years, is that alcohol finally killed him. It was a sad – yet predictable - end for a man who seemed to have everything going for him when he showed up

Before alcohol took over, he reportedly enjoyed a career as a manager for a nationwide retailer and was in a long time marriage. He was a bright and articulate man who could have done whatever he wanted with his life. And when I first met him outside my office several years ago I encouraged him in his recovery because I believed he had the potential for success.

However, he relapsed a half dozen times over the next few years. And each time he returned he carried more and more damage from intense drinking. One time he was found naked and unconscious in Kingman and had to be airlifted to Phoenix. He said he had no idea of what had happened. The last time I saw him he bore faint resemblance to the man I’d met four years earlier.

When I last spoke to him on the 19th he asked for help. But I turned him down because he hadn’t succeeded in half a dozen previous stays. When I heard of his death today I felt some remorse. I wondered if one more chance might have made a difference.

The only thing I know for sure is alcoholism is a powerful disease.