It's difficult to pin down what's meant by "addiction". Where, exactly, is that fuzzy, ill-defined line between heavy use and addiction? Professionals in the field discuss terms like "increased tolerance", "dependence", but the underlying question - where's that line? - remains hard to answer.
A lot of definitions include something like "continued or escalating use of a substance or process in the face of negative consequences." We know that we're hurting ourselves - killing ourselves - ruining our families and our careers. We know that every time we use the booze - the crack - the tobacco - we're placing ourselves and someone else in danger. We do it anyway. AA's definition of insanity - repeating the same action, expecting a different result.
We know we're driving too fast. We know there's a stone wall in front of us. We push the accelerator.
The form of addiction with which I'm painfully familiar is alcoholism. That phrase, "In the face of negative consequences" has implications:
It doesn't matter how much you drink. That's just an accident of how much your body handles. People who are edging toward the end often find that their tolerance breaks down, and two beers will knock them flat.
It doesn't matter what you drink - wine, harder liquor, beer. NyQuil (once popular among teens), after shave (if your significant other has hidden the booze). That's just an excuse, or an accident of what's available. In the maximum security prison I worked at, something called Hooch was really popular. Take some juice (usually orange), throw some bread crumbs in, seal it and let it ferment. The stuff will blind you. But if you're an addict. . .
It doesn't matter where you drink. That's only geography.
The question that matters - the questions that addicts have a terrible time answering honestly, is: What's happening to your life when you're drinking? or smoking?
So your family's in trouble. Your 14-year-old daughter has called your job again to advise you won't be in. Said 14-year-old then feeds her siblings and makes sure they get to school. All this because you're lying in a pool of vomit in your bed, or on the floor.How long do you think it will be before the 14-year-old breaks down? This should not be the life of an early teen. (Family studies are a very important field in the study and treatment of addiction. There's little point in treating someone, getting them off of whatever stuff they used, then sending them right back to the same setting.)
So you've lost a job. You've lost them before. You'll get another. But, they're not out there like they used to be, or maybe word's gotten around, and your inability to find work is a great excuse for a drink.Or a drunk.
So your kid's asthmatic. Addiction involves some form of rationalization, so you can rationalize doing anything - smoke in a different part of the house, smoking outside - you do anything EXCEPT the one thing that might matter - quit.
Meth addicts tend to forget they have kids.The kids don't get fed, they don't get cleaned up, diapers don't get changed. Mom and Dad seem to be on a permanent sleep-in.
Is marijuana addicting? "Process addiction" is a topic for another time.
By the way, is there such a thing as a GOOD addiction? My answer: a firm, unwavering, almost shouted NO!!!! Not jogging or exercise. Not eating salad for lunch every day. As habits - great. As addictions - awful.
Addiction can be a depressing topic, so when I write about it I want to put the word of hope at the end. There IS hope, there IS help. My last drink: 12/7/85. No praise to me. All praise to my Higher Power.
If you're caught up, get help. If you know someone who is in the trap, explore how to get them help. Don't stand by while someone points a loaded .357 into their own mouth.
Thanks for spending a few with me!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Put that rock down!
I am exploring the possibility of becoming an Oblate of the Order of St. Benedict. Part of the process is attendance at meetings at their monastery in Rock Island. It's a beautiful place. The ravines, the woods, the pond, the beauty of the buildings make it easy to forget that it's within city limits. The drive to get there is nice too: woodsy and marshy, it looks largely unspoiled. Except for that eyesore called Jumer's.
During yesterday's meeting we read, prayed over, and discussed the story of the woman caught in adultery. It's in John 8:1-11, and the story is told there far better than I could ever tell it. If you're not familiar, please stop reading my stuff and read that story now. I'll wait.
{pause. waiting.} Thank you!
That was also the Gospel reading for Mass this weekend. The incident provokes thought on many levels.
A woman "caught in the very act of adultery" was brought before Jesus. He's told that Moses "commanded us to stone such women." Such women? Really? Moses' law called for both adulterers to be stoned, not just the woman (Deut. 22:22). If she was caught in the very act didn't they catch the man, too? So, where was the man caught in adultery?
In the time and place, this would have been seen as not so much a sexual violation as a property violation. A wife had no rights independent of her husband. She was his property. It's hard to realize now how radical Jesus was in this regard. Jesus treated women with respect. He treated women as equals to men. So, for him, this was no piece of property before him. This was a human being - no doubt humiliated, frightened, and having the worst day of her entire life - a human being, with all the human dimensions.
So, Jesus writes on the ground. The Gospel writer did not think it important to record exactly what Jesus wrote. I don't know about you, but I'd love to know.
And Jesus says, "Let the execution begin! Only - let it begin with the first stone being cast by the one among you who is without sin."
And so, one by one, confronted with their own conscience (and maybe confronted with what Jesus had written on the ground), all put down their stones and leave, until she is alone with Jesus. "Woman, is no one left to accuse you?" We imagine the shocked, surprised look around before the response: "No one, sir."
And then Jesus does not say, "Well, then: carry on!" He says, "Go your way, and from now on do not sin again."
Who would I have been in this story? It's easy to be one who carries stones around, ready to cast them at all who need correction. It's so much fun to say, "You need to learn the meaning of. . ." But Jesus confronts precisely that attitude. The only thing I can say is, "I need to learn the meaning of. . ." My faith means everything to me, and in this story Jesus takes away any permission I'd ever thought I had to use my faith as a club.
Now I have some stones to get rid of. Thanks for spending a few with me!
During yesterday's meeting we read, prayed over, and discussed the story of the woman caught in adultery. It's in John 8:1-11, and the story is told there far better than I could ever tell it. If you're not familiar, please stop reading my stuff and read that story now. I'll wait.
{pause. waiting.} Thank you!
That was also the Gospel reading for Mass this weekend. The incident provokes thought on many levels.
A woman "caught in the very act of adultery" was brought before Jesus. He's told that Moses "commanded us to stone such women." Such women? Really? Moses' law called for both adulterers to be stoned, not just the woman (Deut. 22:22). If she was caught in the very act didn't they catch the man, too? So, where was the man caught in adultery?
In the time and place, this would have been seen as not so much a sexual violation as a property violation. A wife had no rights independent of her husband. She was his property. It's hard to realize now how radical Jesus was in this regard. Jesus treated women with respect. He treated women as equals to men. So, for him, this was no piece of property before him. This was a human being - no doubt humiliated, frightened, and having the worst day of her entire life - a human being, with all the human dimensions.
So, Jesus writes on the ground. The Gospel writer did not think it important to record exactly what Jesus wrote. I don't know about you, but I'd love to know.
And Jesus says, "Let the execution begin! Only - let it begin with the first stone being cast by the one among you who is without sin."
And so, one by one, confronted with their own conscience (and maybe confronted with what Jesus had written on the ground), all put down their stones and leave, until she is alone with Jesus. "Woman, is no one left to accuse you?" We imagine the shocked, surprised look around before the response: "No one, sir."
And then Jesus does not say, "Well, then: carry on!" He says, "Go your way, and from now on do not sin again."
Who would I have been in this story? It's easy to be one who carries stones around, ready to cast them at all who need correction. It's so much fun to say, "You need to learn the meaning of. . ." But Jesus confronts precisely that attitude. The only thing I can say is, "I need to learn the meaning of. . ." My faith means everything to me, and in this story Jesus takes away any permission I'd ever thought I had to use my faith as a club.
Now I have some stones to get rid of. Thanks for spending a few with me!
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Credo
I have been following a blog called Thoughts From the High Road, by Lauren Schieffer. Lauren is a friend of a dear friend. I have found Lauren's blog enjoyable. It has helped me pick up my attitude and, on occasion, shone a bright light on those attitudes. I recommend her blog to you.
I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.
Thus begins the Nicene Creed, which we recite at Mass every Sunday. I would hope this never becomes mere rote recitation for me. Theological history tells us that every line in the Creed was a point of controversy at some time. Every doctrinal position in the Creed was fought about, and on occasion, bled over. Nothing came easy. One definition of the word "heretic" is, "the guy who lost the argument."
I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.
I do believe. There seems a great divide between those who adhere to one faith position - atheism - and another faith position - belief in a higher power. Make no mistake: atheism is a faith, just as are Christianity, Islam, Judaism. Atheism is a faith that there is nothing larger than us. Atheism has no more proof of its correctness than do the other belief systems. Moses and Isaiah record having seen G-d. Mary Magdalene and Peter saw the risen Christ. I have a hard time imagining anyone saying that they looked everywhere there is to look, and "By gosh by golly, I saw no God, so there couldn't be one."
So, one claims that the existence of evil in human beings is proof that there's no God. The line of logic doesn't work, because it can't exclude the obverse. If the life of Hitler and Stalin and Idi Amin - of Timothy McVeigh, of the Unabomber and Osama bin Laden - are proof that there's no God, cannot the life of a Mother Theresa, of Teresa of Avila, of Roncalli and Bernardin and Merton and St. Vincent de Paul - prove that there is one? There is evil. There is also good.
So, the preponderance of scientific evidence supports evolution? In fact, if you've ever used antibacterial soap, natural selection occurs right on your skin. I believe evolution occurred and is ongoing. I also believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth. Belief or nonbelief is not subject to scientific proof, because a control experiment is impossible.
So the statement that there is no God is a statement of a faith. So is my position. Step 2 for AA's: Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
I do believe. Credo!
I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.
Thus begins the Nicene Creed, which we recite at Mass every Sunday. I would hope this never becomes mere rote recitation for me. Theological history tells us that every line in the Creed was a point of controversy at some time. Every doctrinal position in the Creed was fought about, and on occasion, bled over. Nothing came easy. One definition of the word "heretic" is, "the guy who lost the argument."
I believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen.
I do believe. There seems a great divide between those who adhere to one faith position - atheism - and another faith position - belief in a higher power. Make no mistake: atheism is a faith, just as are Christianity, Islam, Judaism. Atheism is a faith that there is nothing larger than us. Atheism has no more proof of its correctness than do the other belief systems. Moses and Isaiah record having seen G-d. Mary Magdalene and Peter saw the risen Christ. I have a hard time imagining anyone saying that they looked everywhere there is to look, and "By gosh by golly, I saw no God, so there couldn't be one."
So, one claims that the existence of evil in human beings is proof that there's no God. The line of logic doesn't work, because it can't exclude the obverse. If the life of Hitler and Stalin and Idi Amin - of Timothy McVeigh, of the Unabomber and Osama bin Laden - are proof that there's no God, cannot the life of a Mother Theresa, of Teresa of Avila, of Roncalli and Bernardin and Merton and St. Vincent de Paul - prove that there is one? There is evil. There is also good.
So, the preponderance of scientific evidence supports evolution? In fact, if you've ever used antibacterial soap, natural selection occurs right on your skin. I believe evolution occurred and is ongoing. I also believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth. Belief or nonbelief is not subject to scientific proof, because a control experiment is impossible.
So the statement that there is no God is a statement of a faith. So is my position. Step 2 for AA's: Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
I do believe. Credo!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
A Tip of the Hat From Mr. K
Last Friday, Charles Krauthammer, in his Washington Post column, had some kind observations to make about the Obama administration. Wow.
To understand how unexpected this was, understand that Krauthammer has been little more than a part of the Republican spin machine for years. During the entire Bush 43 administration, you'd have been hard-pressed to find a critical word from Krauthammer about any administration policy.
By the way, about that "liberal bias" that the Post is supposed to have: they carry George Will, Charles Krauthammer, and Kathleen Parker in their editorial pages. You really have to do some redefining to make THAT into a liberal stew. What is usually meant by "That paper is biased against us!" is "That paper lets the other side have space too, and we don't like it!"
Krauthammer observed that a rotation of power between the parties is a frequent occurrence in American history, and that this is a good thing. It allowed consolidation of New Deal gains by Republicans in the Eisenhower administration. The Reagan policies were brought to fruition, not by the first Bush administration, but by the Clinton administration.
Krauthammer does not change his own conservative position on any issue, but on health care he notes, "it's hard to recall a more informed, more detailed, more serious, more prolonged national debate than on health care reform." Clinton couldn't keep the debate going. Bush had no interest. Obama - the master facilitator - has kept up the discussion as no one else could.
On Reagan's policies, he notes that Obama presents a serious challenge, but also: "The Reaganite dispensation of low taxes, less regulation and reliance on markets should be challenged, lest it become merely rote and dogmatic." Amen! Too often I see politicians and wonder if their understanding has any depth beyond their 3x5 cards. When you hear Cantor, McConnell and Boehner using not only the same thoughts, but the exact same phrases, you wonder if anything at all is going on in their own heads.
Although Krauthammer is on the other side from me on almost any issue this column is worth a read, and I gained some respect for Krauthammer's work that I hadn't had before. Read it.
To understand how unexpected this was, understand that Krauthammer has been little more than a part of the Republican spin machine for years. During the entire Bush 43 administration, you'd have been hard-pressed to find a critical word from Krauthammer about any administration policy.
By the way, about that "liberal bias" that the Post is supposed to have: they carry George Will, Charles Krauthammer, and Kathleen Parker in their editorial pages. You really have to do some redefining to make THAT into a liberal stew. What is usually meant by "That paper is biased against us!" is "That paper lets the other side have space too, and we don't like it!"
Krauthammer observed that a rotation of power between the parties is a frequent occurrence in American history, and that this is a good thing. It allowed consolidation of New Deal gains by Republicans in the Eisenhower administration. The Reagan policies were brought to fruition, not by the first Bush administration, but by the Clinton administration.
Krauthammer does not change his own conservative position on any issue, but on health care he notes, "it's hard to recall a more informed, more detailed, more serious, more prolonged national debate than on health care reform." Clinton couldn't keep the debate going. Bush had no interest. Obama - the master facilitator - has kept up the discussion as no one else could.
On Reagan's policies, he notes that Obama presents a serious challenge, but also: "The Reaganite dispensation of low taxes, less regulation and reliance on markets should be challenged, lest it become merely rote and dogmatic." Amen! Too often I see politicians and wonder if their understanding has any depth beyond their 3x5 cards. When you hear Cantor, McConnell and Boehner using not only the same thoughts, but the exact same phrases, you wonder if anything at all is going on in their own heads.
Although Krauthammer is on the other side from me on almost any issue this column is worth a read, and I gained some respect for Krauthammer's work that I hadn't had before. Read it.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
When I started blogging I made a commitment to myself that I'd write something midweek - usually Wednesdays - and on Sundays. Today is Wednesday, but I've been distracted the past couple of days. My son-in-law is on a plane. He's being deployed to Afghanistan.
To say my feelings are mixed would be an understatement. They're a whirlwind. The relationship between Chris and I has had its rocky spots; my daughters would tell you I'm not one to buddy up to a son-in-law. Our relationship has become stronger over time, so my heart and mind are with him a lot, and at the top of my prayer list is the prayer that he may come home physically and mentally intact. He is, after all, Daddy to four of our grandkids.
And I take great pride in his service, as I took great pride in my own. I am a Vietnam-era Navy vet. I never saw the 'Nam. I cry no sad tears for that. I was a destroyer sailor.
On the larger issue of war and peace, I have become a semi-pacifist. Those familiar with Thomas Merton will recognize the influence. There are some wars that must be fought, I guess. The evil of the Nazis had to be destroyed. However, I can think of few wars that, if traced back to their origins, made any sense at all. To what extent was the rise of the Nazi party attributable to the vindictive terms at the end of the first war? To what extent was THAT war attributable to the more vindictive terms of the Franco-Prussian wars in the 1870s, and to what extent was THAT. . .Somewhere it just stops making sense at all.
So, a prayer for Chris, and for those who are pray-ers, we'd sure appreciate yours, too.
To say my feelings are mixed would be an understatement. They're a whirlwind. The relationship between Chris and I has had its rocky spots; my daughters would tell you I'm not one to buddy up to a son-in-law. Our relationship has become stronger over time, so my heart and mind are with him a lot, and at the top of my prayer list is the prayer that he may come home physically and mentally intact. He is, after all, Daddy to four of our grandkids.
And I take great pride in his service, as I took great pride in my own. I am a Vietnam-era Navy vet. I never saw the 'Nam. I cry no sad tears for that. I was a destroyer sailor.
On the larger issue of war and peace, I have become a semi-pacifist. Those familiar with Thomas Merton will recognize the influence. There are some wars that must be fought, I guess. The evil of the Nazis had to be destroyed. However, I can think of few wars that, if traced back to their origins, made any sense at all. To what extent was the rise of the Nazi party attributable to the vindictive terms at the end of the first war? To what extent was THAT war attributable to the more vindictive terms of the Franco-Prussian wars in the 1870s, and to what extent was THAT. . .Somewhere it just stops making sense at all.
So, a prayer for Chris, and for those who are pray-ers, we'd sure appreciate yours, too.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Today was the third Sunday in Lent. The word "lent" comes from a word meaning "spring". For Catholics, and for most other Christians, it's a time of intensified prayer, reflection, repentance, charity. If someone is to make confession only once in a year, that one time is most likely to be during Lent. Often, parishes will have communal reconciliation services (think of "reconciliation" as synonymous with "confession" for this purpose), and thereon hangs today's tale.
Some years ago we went to a communal reconciliation at The Church of the Nativity in Dubuque, Iowa. We had our daughters with. A communal reconciliation starts with the community singing a hymn, with some prayer and a few remarks by a priest. Then, the priests (some will have come from other parishes to help with this) scatter to different parts of the chapel to hear individual confessions.
We went through the opening, and the time for confessions started. Our third daughter, Kim, was one of the first ones to visit one of the priests, Father Mark. A few minutes into her confession Fr. Mark looked up, and looked over at us. More confession, and again, Fr. Mark looked at us. Cindy and I started to wonder what she was saying that directed Father's attention to us like that. We got our answer when Kim was done.
She advised us that she'd confessed OUR sins. I guess she wanted to save us the trouble.
No wonder she took so long!
A story I heard from the late Father Anthony Farrell, God be good to him: A parish pastor in New York announced that, for a communal penance service, he had four priests to assist with confessions. They were all freshly arrived in this country from Vietnam, and none of them spoke a word of English.
The line outside the parish for confession circled the block.
I'm now putting together my list of things for confession. Yes, it'll be a communal service, probably the one at St. Anthony's. No, I won't take Kim with. And, I do expect that the priest will speak English.
Drat!
Some years ago we went to a communal reconciliation at The Church of the Nativity in Dubuque, Iowa. We had our daughters with. A communal reconciliation starts with the community singing a hymn, with some prayer and a few remarks by a priest. Then, the priests (some will have come from other parishes to help with this) scatter to different parts of the chapel to hear individual confessions.
We went through the opening, and the time for confessions started. Our third daughter, Kim, was one of the first ones to visit one of the priests, Father Mark. A few minutes into her confession Fr. Mark looked up, and looked over at us. More confession, and again, Fr. Mark looked at us. Cindy and I started to wonder what she was saying that directed Father's attention to us like that. We got our answer when Kim was done.
She advised us that she'd confessed OUR sins. I guess she wanted to save us the trouble.
No wonder she took so long!
A story I heard from the late Father Anthony Farrell, God be good to him: A parish pastor in New York announced that, for a communal penance service, he had four priests to assist with confessions. They were all freshly arrived in this country from Vietnam, and none of them spoke a word of English.
The line outside the parish for confession circled the block.
I'm now putting together my list of things for confession. Yes, it'll be a communal service, probably the one at St. Anthony's. No, I won't take Kim with. And, I do expect that the priest will speak English.
Drat!
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Memory
I'm Rick. I'm a gratefully recovering alcoholic.
I think the blackouts were the scariest. There was other stuff, but - the blackouts. Yeah, definitely the blackouts.
A blackout isn't when you're passed out on the floor. That's just - passed out on the floor. Someone who is in a blackout is walking, talking, functioning, joking, singing, whatever. It's the memory that's blacked out - whatever it is you do, you retain no memory of it.
A blackout? That's when a guy wakes up in a jail cell, having no clue what he's there for, because he remembers nothing after the first couple of drinks. He goes to his arraignment, maybe expecting something like "DWI", "OWI" "DUI" or whatever the term is in that place. Instead he hears "vehicular homicide." Wait - that means I. . .??? It's difficult to defend yourself against a charge when you remember nothing about the incident. And, intoxication is not a mitigating factor in most crimes. It's an aggravating factor. (This wasn't me.)
A blackout? That's when a woman wakes up in a bed she's never been in. She looks around at a room she's never seen. She's naked, as is the guy sleeping next to her - a guy she doesn't know. She makes a frantic call to a friend: "Did I do something stupid last night" "Oh, man, you don't remember?" Well, no.
I'm Rick. I'm a gratefully recovering alcoholic. My last drink was December 7, 1985. But, I've only been sober since I woke up at 5:45 this morning.
A blackout? That's when a guy wakes up in the back of the station wagon he now calls home. He remembers drinking two beers. He's shocked to find out he went through a case. He has no clue how he got into the back of his car, but if he ever finds out who got him there he's going to have to say thanks, because when he woke up it was raining. Hard. It's a hard rain gonna fall.
That last one was me.
I'm sticking to writing what I know. Alcoholism and addiction, I know much better than I ever wanted to. The fortunate thing, maybe, is that it equipped me to talk with others about this, and maybe, just maybe, make someone else's life better. It won't be a topic of every blog, but it will come up now and again. I know what my depths were. I know what my recovery is, and I thank God daily for it.
The only drink you know you have control over is the first one you ever have. After that, you may find that a lot of your choices are made for you.
I think the blackouts were the scariest. There was other stuff, but - the blackouts. Yeah, definitely the blackouts.
A blackout isn't when you're passed out on the floor. That's just - passed out on the floor. Someone who is in a blackout is walking, talking, functioning, joking, singing, whatever. It's the memory that's blacked out - whatever it is you do, you retain no memory of it.
A blackout? That's when a guy wakes up in a jail cell, having no clue what he's there for, because he remembers nothing after the first couple of drinks. He goes to his arraignment, maybe expecting something like "DWI", "OWI" "DUI" or whatever the term is in that place. Instead he hears "vehicular homicide." Wait - that means I. . .??? It's difficult to defend yourself against a charge when you remember nothing about the incident. And, intoxication is not a mitigating factor in most crimes. It's an aggravating factor. (This wasn't me.)
A blackout? That's when a woman wakes up in a bed she's never been in. She looks around at a room she's never seen. She's naked, as is the guy sleeping next to her - a guy she doesn't know. She makes a frantic call to a friend: "Did I do something stupid last night" "Oh, man, you don't remember?" Well, no.
I'm Rick. I'm a gratefully recovering alcoholic. My last drink was December 7, 1985. But, I've only been sober since I woke up at 5:45 this morning.
A blackout? That's when a guy wakes up in the back of the station wagon he now calls home. He remembers drinking two beers. He's shocked to find out he went through a case. He has no clue how he got into the back of his car, but if he ever finds out who got him there he's going to have to say thanks, because when he woke up it was raining. Hard. It's a hard rain gonna fall.
That last one was me.
I'm sticking to writing what I know. Alcoholism and addiction, I know much better than I ever wanted to. The fortunate thing, maybe, is that it equipped me to talk with others about this, and maybe, just maybe, make someone else's life better. It won't be a topic of every blog, but it will come up now and again. I know what my depths were. I know what my recovery is, and I thank God daily for it.
The only drink you know you have control over is the first one you ever have. After that, you may find that a lot of your choices are made for you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)