Recovery

Why Can’t Recovering Addicts Use In Moderation?

A client asks: If we can change our thinking in order to abstain from using alcohol and other drugs, then why can’t we change our thinking to be able to use in moderation?

Why can’t addicts use in moderation?  Think about it: why couldn’t we simply use “in moderation” without all the hassle of detox, treatment, and a program of recovery? If we couldn’t do it then, why should we be able to do it now? Those are the real questions!

The key is “change our thinking.” We don’t think our way out of addiction. We make a decision to get clean and sober, and to follow the suggestions of our program of choice, in order to facilitate abstinence. The thinking and process of our programs of recovery relieve some of the emotional pressures we created with our addiction and equip us to live sober lives, but they do not “cure” the addiction.

Abstinence and the subsequent repairs that our bodies are able to effect in our brains allow our addiction(s) to enter remission. Our brains slowly deactivate the extra receptor sites that clamored for more drugs and caused our compulsion to use, and at the same time the production of chemicals normally found in the brain has to ramp back up from being suppressed by the presence of the drugs. Not until this process is complete — and it can take months — do we reach the point of feeling relatively normal, although we begin to feel better long before the job is done.

Feeling better is part of the problem, too. Because the repairs to our brains depend on abstinence, as long as there are any of a wide variety of abusable drugs in our systems, the repairs can’t take place. And because they also take time, and that means that the desire to use won’t go away entirely for quite awhile; it will come and go. We can easily decide that we’ve been clean for a while so we ought to be able to “handle it.” But if we give in and use, even a little, the repairs to our brain will slow down, prolonging the physical recovery process. It is also quite likely that the combination of reuniting with our old obsession, combined with the indisputable fact that people on drugs do stupid things, will cause us to decide more would be better. Continued use will reverse the recovery process and kick us back into full-blown addiction.

Recovery is not a matter of willpower. If it were, we would have simply ignored the compulsion and stopped. The compulsion comes from a part of the brain that isn’t affected by conscious thought. We can’t think our way into sobriety; we need abstinence too. Here at Sunrise Detox, we see a lot of folks who think that they can use in moderation.  Again, and again, and again….

What Is Cross-Addiction? Why Can’t A Pill Addict Drink?

One of the more common questions around treatment centers and the recovery fellowships goes something like,”I’m addicted to prescription drugs, not alcohol, so why can’t I have a drink?  What’s this cross-addiction I’ve heard about?”

That’s really not an unreasonable question. Why do addicts who don’t seem to have problems with alcohol need to stay away from it anyway? Why can’t a prescription drug addict have a few drinks?

There are really two reasons:

  • Alcohol reduces our inhibitions and increases the likelihood that we will make bad choices; and
  • Just as they say in the rooms, “A drug is a drug is a drug.”

Number one is pretty much self-explanatory, and can be attested to by anyone who has regretted something he or she did while they were drinking. The parts of our brains that are responsible for taking in information and allowing us to make reasoned decisions are among the first functions to be depressed by alcohol, along with some motor skills. (See any relationship to drunk driving problems there?)

We make poor decisions about driving, about kissing the boss’s wife at the Christmas party, about arguing with large men who carry guns and handcuffs, and all sorts of other things, including whether or not to drink more or use other drugs. “It seemed like a good idea at the time” can become a major problem when we’ve had a couple of drinks. Essentially, booze makes us dumber while convincing us that we’re smarter.

The second reason, known as cross-addiction, is a bit more complicated but makes perfect sense when you understand a few things. Cross-addiction refers to how we addicts, once addicted, are far more likely to get hooked on other drugs or behavior in addition to our drugs of choice.

Why do we drink or use drugs? We may say we like the taste of whiskey, but the fact is that we like it because we associate it with the way alcohol makes us feel. We use alcohol and other drugs because they change the way we feel. They make us feel “good,” or they “relax” us, or they (insert own reason here). Sometimes we use because we’re happy and we want to feel happier, but most of us use drugs and mood-altering behavior because they distract us from reality. Trouble is, the drugs always wear off, and we’re always there, wishing we still felt good. It doesn’t take us long to figure out how to make that happen.

Certain activities stimulate the production of chemicals in the brain that make us feel pleasure. Generally, these relate to things that are mostly beneficial: seeing a loved one or good friend, eating, exercising, playing games — especially if we win — fun, daydreaming, getting a good grade in school, a compliment, sex and so forth. They are quite literally our bodies’ way of insuring that we keep on doing things that are good for us. We refer to the portion of the brain that is stimulated as the reward center.

Alcohol and other drugs also stimulate the reward center, and they do it extremely well to begin with. When we start drinking and using drugs, the feelings are phenomenal. They are much stronger than the normal sorts of feelings, because the drug causes the production of extra quantities of feel-good neurotransmitters or, in some cases, stimulates the receptor sites in the reward center directly. Now that’s a reward, we think (sort of) — a powerful reward for using the drugs instead of our natural system of feeling good. Doing it again seems like a very good idea indeed.

But the goodness doesn’t last. As our reward centers become accustomed to the higher levels of stimulation, they become pretty much immune to the natural reward chemistry. We begin to need chemicals in order to get any sense of pleasure, and eventually just to feel normal. As we increase the levels of drugs, our brain attempts to compensate for the high levels of stimulation in two general ways: first by reducing the production of the natural feel-good chemicals, and also by building new receptor sites to deal with the excess chemicals floating around. It does this in an attempt to keep things to something like normal, but it’s doomed to lose the contest. Eventually, we have to have the drugs in order to function at all. We’re — guess what — addicted.

Now some of you are going to think, “Man, they oversimplified that big time!”, and you’ll be right. Others are going to think, “What crap! I drink…use drugs…whatever…because I want to!” Well, if you only have have a couple of whatevers a week you may be right, but if you’re reading this because you think you might have a problem, you’re wrong and you’d best pay attention.

So what does all this have to do with a prescription addict having a drink? Everything. At the end of the day all drugs, including alcohol, act on the reward center. We get our good feelings from the reward center, and the reward center doesn’t know the difference between one drug and another. We can tell the difference in our conscious mind, because we feel the physical changes in other parts of our brains — stimulation, depression, whatever those effects may be — but the reason we enjoy them is because of the effects on our reward center, which operates mostly below the conscious level. Really now, who would want to get all jittery…or dumb and sleepy…or stupid and hungry if it didn’t feel good?

So, when we take a drink, our reward center is like, “Hello? This feels good, and we know how to make it feel even better, don’t we?” If we’re in early recovery — the first two years or so, say — our brain hasn’t even gotten back to normal yet. It has to deactivate all those extra receptor sites that it created to handle the extra stimulation, and it also has to have time to reactivate the systems that make the natural neurotransmitters. During that time we’re sitting ducks for relapse. Even after the repairs, the receptors are still there waiting to be reactivated by the presence of the drugs. We’re talking repairs here, not new brains.

Any mood-altering drug or activity can affect the reward center, and so any of them can become addictions. Cross-addiction normally refers to substances, but it can also apply to behavior.
People often replace alcohol and other drugs with mood-altering activities like gambling, which is especially dangerous because of all the booze and drugs around (they know it makes people stupid). Other behaviors include relationships, porn, other sexual acting out, exercise, thrill-seeking and other activities that heavily stimulate the reward center. The fact is, you can get addicted to almost anything, if it causes pleasure or distraction from life issues.

That means that the name of the game in recovery is avoidance of all mood-altering substances — okay, not caffeine (in reasonable quantities) — and excess in other areas of our lives. Fun is fine. Pleasure is fine. But when the feelings become the reason for what we’re doing, to the exclusion of the activity itself and the people involved, we are headed for trouble.

The aim of recovery is not eliminating fun, it’s moderating our behavior and learning to live without mood-altering in unnatural ways. Four generations of alcoholics and addicts have demonstrated millions of time that it’s the most reliable way to remain clean. Until someone comes up with something better (and our bet is that it will be a long time) abstinence and a good program of recovery are the best, if not the only, way to go.

It’s Okay Not To Feel Okay

We addicts are delicate folks. Things that other people shrug off hit us deep in the gut and stay there. Discomforts that other people find annoying are major issues. An off-the-cuff remark becomes a long-term resentment, minor aches and pains a medical catastrophe, and heaven help us if we have real issues to deal with!

We were people who didn’t know that it’s okay not to feel okay, and we knew just what to do about it. We chased okay around casinos, crack houses, malls and singles bars, shooting galleries, sleazy hotels and online porn sites, and into and out the other side of all sorts of jackpots. We messed up our lives and those of bystanders (innocent and not-so-innocent), and we finally reached a point that the alcohol, other drugs, sex, shopping, football pools and what have you no longer did it for us. In the end, we were unable to believe that we were okay, even for a few minutes, no matter what we did.

That’s what got us into recovery: the realization, momentary though it may have been, that if we didn’t get clean and sober we had no chance of feeling okay, ever again.

Then we discovered that early recovery is, to a considerable degree, a lot of not feeling okay. We had to deal with the aspects of day to day living without the cushion of alcohol, drugs and other feel-good behavior. Accustomed to easy, quick answers to troubled feelings, and to easy obliteration of them when we couldn’t find the answers, we found ourselves bewildered when things in our lives didn’t get better right away. Personalities used to popping a pill, downing a couple of beers, hitting the slots or the mall or the back streets suddenly had to face real feelings, and life on life’s terms. At one time or another in early recovery, every single one of us thought that sucked.

But if we stuck with our programs of recovery, we got over it. We came to understand that the changes we made in our view of the world and others by our use of artificial ways of coping with feelings had caused, or were the results of, personalities that needed readjustment. It eventually got through our addled senses that we couldn’t expect bodies — especially our brains — that had been changed by the presence of those artificial ways of coping to get back to normal right away, either. It finally occurred to us that the days of buying answers were over, and that we needed to learn how to live a new way of life without covering up emotions artificially. We took suggestions, and we learned to work through the things that we used to use over. Slowly, we learned how to live without using, and to enjoy it.

Those of us who made those changes in our worldview, who learned that it’s a normal part of being a human not to feel okay sometimes, stayed clean. We learned that it’s okay not to feel okay.  We found that feeling okay only part of the time worked just fine for us, because gradually the problems that we were trying to solve with drugs, booze and other behavior just seemed to sort of fade away — and that, sometimes, we were just plain happy, often for no particular reason.

The folks who were afraid to do the work…well, we don’t see them around much any more. And every single one of us thinks that sucks.

Denial on the street: “But officer, I slowed way down!”

There’s an old cop joke about the guy who rolled through a stop sign, then complained to the officer who stopped him, “Hey, I slowed way down, what’s the difference?” Supposedly the officer says to the guy, “OK, fine. I’m going to take this flashlight and hit you on the head. When you want me to slow down, say ‘Slow down!’, and when you want me to stop, say ‘Stop!’”

I answer a couple of dozen emails and blog comments a week, dealing with various aspects of addiction and recovery. Every now and then it becomes clear that someone wants me to cosign a desire to experiment with using again. Most often it’s folks who want to know if I think it would be OK for them to have a glass of wine at dinner occasionally, or folks who have stopped using some drugs but want to go on using another (usually marijuana). So I think it’s time to write a few words about this particular form of denial.

Of course it’s denial! Here’s someone who has had enough problems in their life from using alcohol or other drugs that they have quit, or are trying to. In most cases it is safe to assume it hasn’t been the easiest thing that they’ve ever done. Presumably they went through that for a reason. Yet they come to a website that is obviously about encouraging recovery, and inquire if I think it’s OK for them to mess around with their recovery.

Sure, it’s OK, because there’s no recovery involved. If we aren’t convinced that we need to remain clean and concentrate on learning to live in such a way that our desire to use is minimized and hopefully eliminated, then we aren’t in recovery — whether or not we’re clean. It’s that simple. No such thing as partial pregnancy, and no such thing as being partially in recovery. It’s quite possible that we don’t need to be in recovery. But, if that’s the case, why did we come to the site?

If you think you have a problem, do whatever you can to solve it. Don’t mess around. If you don’t think you have a problem, then live it up. Eventually things will become clear, one way or another.

But don’t tell this old cop that you want to slow down.

Compassion and Forgiveness

There is a well-known Buddhist lesson concerning two monks who were traveling and came to a muddy stream.  There they observed a woman who was hesitating to cross, apparently concerned about soiling her clothing.

The older monk approached the woman, bowed, and then picked her up and carried her across the stream.  He set her down, bowed again, and he and his younger companion continued on their way.

That evening, while they were eating their rice, the younger monk said, “I don’t understand.  As monks, we are to have no contact with women, yet you picked that woman up and carried her!”

The older monk said, “I put the woman down at the side of the stream.  You are still carrying her.”

That’s how we are.  We cling to thoughts and ideas, worrying them and twisting them around inside our heads, causing all sorts of turmoil and accomplishing nothing in the way of our journey toward spirituality.

To me, spirituality is about things of the human spirit: understanding, compassion, forgiveness, love, willingness to contribute our efforts to help others, humility (at which I fear I’m not all that successful) and things of that sort.  Compassion and forgiveness are especially important, because clinging to the resentments that prevent those qualities from shining forth causes us so much unhappiness.

Compassion is, essentially, seeing things from another’s point of view, and being willing to do what we can to alleviate their suffering.  Forgiveness is compassion toward ourselves.  It is not about freeing the other person from anything, but about freeing ourselves of the unhappiness that is caused by being unforgiving.

Like the young monk, we sometimes carry things along with us after the reality has changed and, in our very human way, often blow it up in our minds until it forms a nearly impassable barrier to true spiritual growth.  Not until we realize that forgiveness does not involve condoning a wrongful act, but is simply choosing to accept, and move on with our own lives, can we expect to get beyond it.  That doesn’t mean that we have to invite the person to dinner, but only that we need to learn to put down our own burden after we have crossed the stream.

Shame About Alcohol Use May Increase The Likelihood Of Relapse

The study, conducted by researchers from the University of British Columbia, shows that behavioral displays of shame strongly predicted whether recovering alcoholics would relapse in the future.

http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/02/130204114246.htm

Denial Ain’t Just A River In Africa

When we get into recovery, regardless of the path we take, it won’t be long until someone tells that us we are in denial about something. In fact, the chances are good that we heard that a number of times before we even thought about recovery. But what is denial?

Actually, denial is an important part of coping with day to day living. If we accepted as fact everything unpleasant that someone said about us, we wouldn’t be able to function very well, if at all. If we weren’t able to put aside the tragic reality of a death in the family and tend to business, we’d never be able to get through it. Denial helps us overlook the rough spots in life so that the immediate impact is lessened, and we can deal with the issues gradually. However, it becomes a problem when we use it to help us ignore important issues.

Denial is of interest to addicts (and therapists) when it gets in the way of our recognition of behavioral problems. We alcoholics and other addicts use denial to smooth the path of our addictions, help us ignore the cold, hard facts, and continue doing what our instincts tell us we have to do. It becomes automatic. In order to recover we need to be able to recognize denial, become able to see the effect it is having on our recovery, and adjust our thinking. As the old 12-step saying goes,

Lying to others is rude, but lying to ourselves is often fatal.

There are many forms of denial, and all sorts of names to describe them. We’ve listed some of the common ones, with examples of how we use them to protect our addictive behavior. There are dozens of other examples and names, but denial generally falls into the following categories.

Normalizing: “Everyone has a few drinks on a weekend” (their birthday, to celebrate, during the game, etc.) “A couple of beers never hurt anyone.” (See minimizing)

Minimizing: “I only had a couple! (Of 6-packs). “I only drink socially.” (Five nights a week) “I might have had a couple more than I should have.” (I couldn’t stand up.)

Rationalizing: “I don’t have a problem, I’ve quit for months at a time. I just don’t feel like stopping right now.” “I have to socialize with people, it’s part of my job!” “It’s a prescription drug; my doctor knows what he’s doing.”  ”I deserve it!”

Comparing: “Joe’s been married three times, in jail twice, lost his license and has to go to those meetings. That’s what happens when you drink too much. I’m doing fine.”

Uniqueness: “You don’t understand.” “If I go to treatment now, the business will fall apart and fifty people will lose their jobs.” “My family has an exceptional capacity for alcohol. I never get drunk.”

Deflecting is making jokes, changing the subject, angry outbursts that intimidate the opponent, threats, “important” phone calls, blowups when confronted and similar ways to take the focus off the issue.

Omitting: Leaving out information, or telling just enough of the story to satisfy the other person while leaving out the part that will get you in more trouble. “The doc said my health is great!” (Except if I don’t stop drinking I’ll be dead in five years.) Simply ignoring the other person’s remarks falls under this category as well.

Blaming: “If you had to put up with (my wife, boss, kids).” “I was doing just fine until I found George doing lines in the bathroom.” “The doctor keeps giving me prescriptions!”

Intellectualizing: This is coming up with all sorts of explanations that “obviously” anyone who thinks about the matter has to agree with, in an attempt to make questioners feel off base and uninformed. “The latest studies show that a couple of drinks a day are good for you.” It’s also a good way to fool ourselves.

Poor Me: “I’ve tried and I just can’t quit. I can’t do it no matter how hard I try.” “I give up, I’m just going to die drunk.” “My life’s in the toilet, I might as well….”

Manipulating is using power, lies, money, sex, or guilt to defuse the issue. “Remember who you’re talking to here!” “Don’t talk that way to your mother!” “Would I ever say something like that to you?” “Mommy doesn’t need to know about this. Here’s some money. Go shopping”

Compartmentalizing is doing things that you keep separate from other parts of your life. If you find yourself thinking something like “If he only knew,” or “If anyone ever found out,” then you’re compartmentalizing.

If we’re honest with ourselves, it probably won’t take us long to recognize some of our old — and perhaps not so old — tricks.  And maybe, just maybe, we ought to pay attention to the next person who accuses us of denial.