Batman v. Cater Waiter
I refuse to refer to alcoholism as a “disease.” I think it’s offensive to people with diseases. I used to be alright with comparing it to an allergy, but then I remembered that my sister, who I love dearly, could be taken out of this world by a baggie of trail mix. The alcoholic drive to find a suitable comparison for the affliction is compelling because its part of our constant and urgent need to feel understood. As it turns out, there is nothing that compares to the affliction of addiction and it cannot be easily or rapidly understood. I am finally accepting the reality that addiction is a combination of unfortunate factors that culminate in a (seemingly) self-inflicted tragedy.
The only way to assist non-addicts in comprehending addiction, is to guide them in their comprehension. That endeavor is precisely what instigated this blog. If the addict in your life wasn’t doing much for you in the first place, there is no shame is walking away from them and not looking back. Sometimes we have to do that with the assholes in our lives who are not addicts as well. What hurts me, and what seems to be so unnecessary, is the abundance of people who have walked away from people they loved because that person was an addict. That does not need to happen. As I have said before, life is hard enough- there’s no reason why we should have to grieve someone who is still alive.
Resolving the disconnect between addicts and their loved ones is not going to happen in one conversation, with one spot-on comparison, or one blog post. It’s a conversation that will have to continue and evolve for years to come. For now, we can tackle some of the simpler issues and questions that live on the skirt of addiction.
Let’s skip to a good part- a best case scenario- an addict hits rock bottom (sad), but it ends up being the wake-up call they need (good!). They go to rehab (humiliating), they pay the piper (expensive), they trudge through intensive outpatient therapy (so goddamn boring), they address their mental health issues (finally), and they approach a lifestyle of some normalcy (whatever that means). Maintaining a relationship with someone in active addiction is horrifying, if not impossible. Supporting someone in early, desperate sobriety is, honestly, incredibly sad. However, once someone has achieved solid sobriety, the drama can finally begin its ending.
I wouldn’t take any jumps in a game of “Conclusion Hopscotch.” We’re still talking about an addict, here. There’s a reason why 30 days of sobriety doesn’t get you your kids, your driver’s license, or any amount of trust back. The kids and the license will be returned in a couple of years, but the trust between two adults… that could take decades. Or, it may never come back. It is not acknowledged enough that the loved ones of addicts are not just casualties- they are victims. They have suffered a serious trauma and it needs addressing. There should be therapy, there should be honest conversations, the proper measures should be taken to treat the chronic distress that they festered in for years.
On the plus side, addiction teaches everyone involved how to prioritize their anxiety. The only comparison I can find between addiction and disease is that they both teach the previously afflicted how to not sweat the small stuff. That works on both sides. For addicts, its, “I’m sober today, I won’t let the rain get me down.” For loved ones, its, “my daughter isn’t in a motel with a needle in her arm today, I’m fine with standing in line at the bank.” In direct regard to addiction, let’s talk about the small stuff that we should not be sweating over.
I’m not the alcoholic Guru that I’d like to be quite yet, but I do get approached with a lot of questions. I get one query constantly, in one form or another, which is this: “how do we behave around a recovering addict?” Do we hide all the liquor in the house? Should we all abstain from drinking around you? Do we need to throw separate parties- one for regular people and one for alcoholics and children? Should we only throw one party and not invite you? Do we stop doing post-work drinks on Friday and do coffee instead? If we see people drinking around you, should we shame them? Should we be extra tough on you: listen at the bathroom door? Check your pockets? Pat you down? Or should we treat you like nothing ever happened?
The amount of questions that people have about being around recovering addicts must feel overwhelming. No, its not annoying to us when you ask. It is, honestly, so incredibly kind and sweet that we are being considered and that they are trying to make things easier on us… but it is also unnecessary. The answer to pretty much any question is this: “don’t change a damn thing for us.” We will adjust accordingly. Don’t change your drink menu, don’t change your plans, don’t change who you invite, don’t change anything. Addicts who are truly in recovery are not ticking timebombs. We aren’t going to fling ourselves back into the epic of active addiction because a cater-waiter passes by with a tray of champagne flutes. If that happens, then the alcoholic in question was never going to stay sober anyway, rendering your retirement party with the open bar plot-irrelevant.
Addiction is a product of a person being incapable of coping with life, the way that life tends to be. Drinking and getting high are manners in which we bent our perception of reality to better imitate a life that we could tolerate. Sobriety is not just about not using, its about accepting the fact that life does not morph to fit our tolerance, we have to strengthen our constitutions to be able to tolerate more. Changing your plans- throwing a dry bridal shower- to avoid tempting us does not help our mission. It will also piss off a lot of bitter bridesmaids who need a pinot grigio buffer zone between them and the bitchy betrothed. A big part of sobriety is learning our own limits, instead of resorting to a substance to adjust our limits. We learn pretty quick, too. If we don’t think we can handle an event, we will politely decline the invitation. If we feel stressed, we’ll leave. We don’t want to drink coffee at 6pm on a Friday either. Most importantly, we don’t want to ruin anyone else’s good time.
If you stuck by us in our addiction, your work is done. Don’t walk on eggshells for us. We don’t want you to. We don’t want you to go out of your way or do anything differently. Quite the opposite- we want to navigate the plans, we want to go out of our way for you. We want to take on every possible burden to alleviate everyone else’s burdens. That burden includes making the decision of what we can and cannot handle. Maybe we aren’t party-ready yet, but we’ll determine that. Still, we want to be invited. We want to be included. We got sober so that we wouldn’t miss anymore precious moments with the people we love. In a way, being at social events, being around others who are drinking, especially with people we actually like, it put things into perspective for us. Think about it… if I am in a room with my wonderful family and my glorious friends, and that waiter with the champagne flutes makes his appearance… life suddenly becomes so inescapably clear. I can have a mimosa, or I can have my people, but I can’t have both. It is the easiest, “no, thank you,” that will ever leave my lips.