An alcoholic’s sister stayed in touch daily for most of a week to make sure her alcoholic brother got to TLC to receive the help he needed.
First she inquired about the facility and what it would take to get him in. Then she wanted to know about how he would get there from the bus station. And she wondered how much money to give him as she was concerned he would drink it up and get lost along the way.
It was an ongoing communication, an example of families of alcoholics and addicts supporting their loved ones in the hope they can change their lives.
And while I know neither of them personally, I suspect this man wasn’t completely aware of the web of love and concern that was guiding him to recovery. For many of us it takes years in the rooms before we begin to grasp and understand how our disease permeated the lives of those around us.
And this man? Well he finally made it to TLC. Although he missed his destination in Mesa by about 100 miles and ended up in Tucson. Fortunately we have a facility there which he was able to find - once he realized the error.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Entitlement?
The other day a client was overheard telling his mother on the phone that she shouldn't be purchasing a certain luxury item, that the money she was about to spend was part of his “inheritance.”
When I questioned him I realized he believed that the money his mother and father had accumulated was his - money that he was going to inherit some day.
Therefore he wanted them to be frugal and not waste it on luxury items. And, also, to make sure they sent him enough money to meet his expenses in the meantime.
When I suggested this attitude was rude and extremely disrespectful to his parents he looked at me as if I had just landed from another planet.
This isn't the first time I've encountered a scenario where addicts actually believe that what their parents have belongs to the addict.
So, one may ask, what business does a therapist have getting involved in these family affairs? And my answer is that a client’s attitude has everything to do with recovery.
If we approach the world with a sense of entitlement – as many clients’ do – we’re not going to be responsible for taking care of ourselves.
And recovery is all about personal responsibility in every way. We are responsible for paying our own way. For our emotional and physical health. For our relationships.
In 22 years’ of working in recovery I can’t recall anyone with a strong sense of entitlement who stayed sober.
When I questioned him I realized he believed that the money his mother and father had accumulated was his - money that he was going to inherit some day.
Therefore he wanted them to be frugal and not waste it on luxury items. And, also, to make sure they sent him enough money to meet his expenses in the meantime.
When I suggested this attitude was rude and extremely disrespectful to his parents he looked at me as if I had just landed from another planet.
This isn't the first time I've encountered a scenario where addicts actually believe that what their parents have belongs to the addict.
So, one may ask, what business does a therapist have getting involved in these family affairs? And my answer is that a client’s attitude has everything to do with recovery.
If we approach the world with a sense of entitlement – as many clients’ do – we’re not going to be responsible for taking care of ourselves.
And recovery is all about personal responsibility in every way. We are responsible for paying our own way. For our emotional and physical health. For our relationships.
In 22 years’ of working in recovery I can’t recall anyone with a strong sense of entitlement who stayed sober.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Remembering a Birthday
"I'm not like these other guys," my brother said on more than one occasion while he was a client at our Las Vegas facility the last half of 2000.
But his life story said he was as bad as the other addicts and alcoholics in our program. Maybe worse.
But his life story said he was as bad as the other addicts and alcoholics in our program. Maybe worse.
Drinking and drugs cost him a free and clear home. His health. Jobs. When he showed up at TLC he had nothing. Yet he had a hard time identifying with other alcoholics in the rooms.
After six months, a new Pell grant check in his pocket, he told the manager “Fuck you and fuck TLC.” He then left and returned to drinking. He died some six months later at Sunrise Hospital in Las Vegas, May 21, 2001. He died at 60, as did my alcoholic father.
So I guess this blog comes up for me because today’s his birthday. He would've been 72. And had he found recovery he would have had as good a life as I’m having. He had a lot going on before alcohol took over some 20 years earlier. He was a talented singer and musician. He built houses. He was a loving father. But alcohol and drugs eventually trashed his marriages, his self-confidence, and his health.
I seldom regret the past. Yet I wish my brother could have been an example of how one lives with a deadly disease instead of being among the victims.
After six months, a new Pell grant check in his pocket, he told the manager “Fuck you and fuck TLC.” He then left and returned to drinking. He died some six months later at Sunrise Hospital in Las Vegas, May 21, 2001. He died at 60, as did my alcoholic father.
So I guess this blog comes up for me because today’s his birthday. He would've been 72. And had he found recovery he would have had as good a life as I’m having. He had a lot going on before alcohol took over some 20 years earlier. He was a talented singer and musician. He built houses. He was a loving father. But alcohol and drugs eventually trashed his marriages, his self-confidence, and his health.
I seldom regret the past. Yet I wish my brother could have been an example of how one lives with a deadly disease instead of being among the victims.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Clumsy American
Here I was, enjoying the first day of vacation swimming lazy laps in the Olympic sized pool in the middle of the afternoon. Calm and peaceful. No one around. 80 degrees. It was great, lying on my back looking into a clear blue sky, palm trees providing some shade as I enjoyed the first day of vacation in Puerto Vallarta. Recovery world stress left 1450 hundred miles North in Arizona. What could go wrong in such a postcard setting?
But something did. When my wife summoned me from the pool to go hunt down a burrito we crossed the walkway to the hotel steps. That's where I stubbed my left big toe, re-opening a wound I’d inflicted at home a week earlier. It probably hadn't been healed for more than a day or two. Damn!
By the time we stopped at the fourth floor, there were blood puddles spreading over the tile floor of the elevator. Then a trail for the 30 feet from the elevator to our apartment. A mess.
But the interesting part of this small mishap is that while my wife and I were cleaning the wound we received three phone calls within 15 minutes.
One from the front desk, wanting to know if I was okay. Another from the concierge wanting to know if we needed an electric cart to take us to the nearby clinic. The last came from the clinic, with directions of how to get there. Then - while we were at the clinic - a hotel staff member came by to fill out an incident report. And today another call from management to follow-up: “How are you feeling today Senor?”
This experience re-confirms what I know about people here. They’re friendly - and caring. They exhibit concern for those who need help – as they did for a clumsy American who kicked the front step of their hotel and bled all over the place..
But something did. When my wife summoned me from the pool to go hunt down a burrito we crossed the walkway to the hotel steps. That's where I stubbed my left big toe, re-opening a wound I’d inflicted at home a week earlier. It probably hadn't been healed for more than a day or two. Damn!
By the time we stopped at the fourth floor, there were blood puddles spreading over the tile floor of the elevator. Then a trail for the 30 feet from the elevator to our apartment. A mess.
But the interesting part of this small mishap is that while my wife and I were cleaning the wound we received three phone calls within 15 minutes.
One from the front desk, wanting to know if I was okay. Another from the concierge wanting to know if we needed an electric cart to take us to the nearby clinic. The last came from the clinic, with directions of how to get there. Then - while we were at the clinic - a hotel staff member came by to fill out an incident report. And today another call from management to follow-up: “How are you feeling today Senor?”
This experience re-confirms what I know about people here. They’re friendly - and caring. They exhibit concern for those who need help – as they did for a clumsy American who kicked the front step of their hotel and bled all over the place..
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Anger Punishes
"You will not be punished for your anger. You will be punished by your anger" Buddha
Anger's an acceptable emotion for some in early recovery. It sends a clear message that pushes others away. At the same time it raises blood pressure, creates stress and turmoil, and halts effective communication. Carried to an extreme it may result in violence.
In the early days so many TLC clients were angry we started an anger management class for newcomers. Clients don't move to the next level until they complete the class.
The Buddha was correct when he said we're punished not for our anger, but by our anger. I've never seen a good outcome when one becomes angry. Even though it's a common weapon in the arsenal of those who've been locked up or who've lived in the streets.
A more effective tool in dealing with others is kindness and compassion. Yes, once in a while someone might think I'm a chump or a pushover because I'm nice. But who cares? Never once have I gotten in trouble by being kind or compassionate.
In the early days so many TLC clients were angry we started an anger management class for newcomers. Clients don't move to the next level until they complete the class.
The Buddha was correct when he said we're punished not for our anger, but by our anger. I've never seen a good outcome when one becomes angry. Even though it's a common weapon in the arsenal of those who've been locked up or who've lived in the streets.
A more effective tool in dealing with others is kindness and compassion. Yes, once in a while someone might think I'm a chump or a pushover because I'm nice. But who cares? Never once have I gotten in trouble by being kind or compassionate.
My experience is that kindness and compassion in place of anger results in good karma.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Recycling
I recognized the voice on the phone yesterday asking for help - though I couldn't put a name to it.
He was confused and talking in circles. Turns out it was a former client who’s in jeopardy of losing his job once more over drinking. On top of that, the friend whose couch he’s been camping on is losing patience with what he thought was an overnight guest.
So, after some discussion we arranged an intake for him and he came back to the program.
This man’s story is a typical example of an alcoholic-addict who believes that all he needs is “to get back to work.” He says his problem is money and that if he can earn some he’ll be okay. Now part of what he says is true; he does need “to get back to work.” But he neglected to add the word “sober” to the end of the sentence.
At TLC we’re aligned with those who want to work. Someone has to pay the bills. The only problem with most of those who hold that as their first concern is they’re not looking at the real issue: recovery.
My lengthy experience with recovery tells me that once we’re lost in the no-man’s land of addiction our 24/7 job is to feed the monster. Until it either devours us - or we escape to join those who are living the lessons Bill W. left behind.
We hope our former client will allow us to help him this time.
So, after some discussion we arranged an intake for him and he came back to the program.
This man’s story is a typical example of an alcoholic-addict who believes that all he needs is “to get back to work.” He says his problem is money and that if he can earn some he’ll be okay. Now part of what he says is true; he does need “to get back to work.” But he neglected to add the word “sober” to the end of the sentence.
At TLC we’re aligned with those who want to work. Someone has to pay the bills. The only problem with most of those who hold that as their first concern is they’re not looking at the real issue: recovery.
My lengthy experience with recovery tells me that once we’re lost in the no-man’s land of addiction our 24/7 job is to feed the monster. Until it either devours us - or we escape to join those who are living the lessons Bill W. left behind.
We hope our former client will allow us to help him this time.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Lucky?
When my staff heard I was flying to Mexico with my wife to spend eight nights in Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico one commented that we’re “lucky.” And, to an extent I agree.
But because I sometimes like to split semantic hairs, I prefer “blessed.” And I never forget the source of the blessings: a generous God who's allowed me to live clean and sober for 22+ years.
For much of my life – between drug runs and stints in jail – I’ve been able to build businesses and accumulate stuff. Getting material things together hasn't been a challenge. Not because I’m smart, but because I’m driven by early memories of an alcoholic home life where every kid in our farming community seemed better off – both materially and emotionally.
The challenge, though, had been to keep anything once my heroin addiction and alcoholism kicked in. It’s one thing to gather stuff. It’s another to keep it through the high cost of heroin, lawyer’s fees, divorces, and jail terms.
Today, though, I have the guidance of the 12-steps. Many sober friends. A sober wife. And the benefits of working in the recovery field for over twenty years. All these things add up to living a balanced life, something of which I only once dreamed.
So, call it “lucky, if that’s what it looks like. But I like “blessings,” because it reminds that the good in my life flows from the Creator who granted me another chance at recovery - and not as the result of a cosmic roll of the dice.
But because I sometimes like to split semantic hairs, I prefer “blessed.” And I never forget the source of the blessings: a generous God who's allowed me to live clean and sober for 22+ years.
For much of my life – between drug runs and stints in jail – I’ve been able to build businesses and accumulate stuff. Getting material things together hasn't been a challenge. Not because I’m smart, but because I’m driven by early memories of an alcoholic home life where every kid in our farming community seemed better off – both materially and emotionally.
The challenge, though, had been to keep anything once my heroin addiction and alcoholism kicked in. It’s one thing to gather stuff. It’s another to keep it through the high cost of heroin, lawyer’s fees, divorces, and jail terms.
Today, though, I have the guidance of the 12-steps. Many sober friends. A sober wife. And the benefits of working in the recovery field for over twenty years. All these things add up to living a balanced life, something of which I only once dreamed.
So, call it “lucky, if that’s what it looks like. But I like “blessings,” because it reminds that the good in my life flows from the Creator who granted me another chance at recovery - and not as the result of a cosmic roll of the dice.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)