Isolation (Wisdom of the 12-Steps)

Bottom line: Like the sun's rays, human connection brings life-giving energy. So, reach for the light . . . hope waits there.

I recall an early morning, some years ago, which serves as a stark lesson for me.

I’d arrived on time, 6:30AM, before dawn had wiped away that winter’s morning darkness and the sun’s rays had chance to warm the air. My part-time counseling cohort had followed me into the Methadone Maintenance Clinic by a minute or two.

We may have exchanged hellos, I don’t recall, but he soon launched into his news, “I found a guy laying by the tracks as I came in. Checked him out. He was cold.”

I hadn’t noticed anything amiss as I approached the front door. The clinic and railroad tracks ran along opposite sides of the intervening city street. But then, I’d made a bee-line in order to avoid the cold . . . and the street out front wasn’t lit.

“Dumped?” I said.

“Yeah, probably, after an overdose.”

“Somebody dropped him there, not wanting to be implicated in drug use?” I said. Hurriedly abandoned along a railroad track like a bag of trash, I thought.

“My bet,” he said.

Damn. “What a way to go!”

Working around opioid addicts struggling to get and stay clean, the facility treatment staff were all too aware of the frequency of relapses. Known as “recidivism,” many “patients” turned serial repeaters. Such is the nature of opioid addiction, one of the most difficult of addictions to overcome, as I understand.

I could only appreciate the withdrawal process, never having done it myself. “There, but for the grace of God, go I,” as is frequently said in recovery circles. But, I knew all too well the psychological and emotion difficulties in stopping a drug habit. I’d already worked in residential drug and alcohol rehab facilities for years.

Intense counseling coupled with utilization of 12-Step program meetings offered the best option for those in recovery, as I had come to believe. Once clients “graduated” residential treatment, they were expected to continue out-patient counseling, as well as attendance of 12-Step meetings. However, in the Methadone Clinic out-patient setting, the tenuous leverage we held as staff to drive home the import of 12-Steps program participation, the need for deep introspection and emotional work, became the weak link in the patient’s recovery potential. Most arrived before the birds awakened, got their “doses” of methadone and counselor contact, usually a session of nor more than fifteen minutes before they scooted off to join the morning traffic rush on their way to scattered locations across the SF Bay Area.

Sure, the titrated (decreasing) methadone dosing regime prescribed by the clinic doctor, helped minimize withdrawal symptoms, but even with staff contact and support, relapse was as common as trees in the woods. It wasn’t impossible for a patient to succeed, but many hurdles needed to be negotiated by each patient, such as their physical discomfort and “stinking thinking” when alone. In addition, they’d need to navigate—total avoidance, unlikely—their twenty-four hour, seven-days a week environment filled with the negative peer pressure of using acquaintances or pushers, as well as other daily issues and situations, which likely got them into their predicament in the first place.

Try changing an ingrained routine, even a “simple” one entwined with a deep emotional need, and in the face of a contrary environment.No easy task, “sweat equity” required . . . an absolute necessity.

The most difficult, and disheartening, aspect for me was the work with patients in relationships with other addicts. Picture two drowning individuals clinging to one another. Yet, in the face of their obstacles, their journeys needed to be taken, and I did what I could at each contact and learned to look at the long-term, as each individual’s progress could be slow and fleeting.

So, I wasn’t too surprised to learn that someone’s time had run out.

I wonder now—as I did then—about his life as a parade of questions cross my mind. What passed through his mind as he “nodded off” into oblivion? While sprawled on the cold steel track? My best guess? He’d hoped for, and welcomed, the release from his inner turmoil and psychic pain. Maybe, even longed for the permanent escape through death. I will never know, nor will any of us.

The whole situation quite sad, I wonder if he’d felt cared about or loved . . . or who grieved or marked his loss.

I’m thankful I’d reached out when suicidal, and taken my first step towards recovery from my brand of physic pain and inner turmoil. I recall that isolation vividly. I don’t wish to die enveloped in that isolation, and now know I won’t need to do so. And it’s not that I prefer people suffer my final departure, but expect that some will, contrary to what I say or think. For me, my connection to others and relationship with the universe creates the foundation on which I stand.

The 12-Steps bookend the issue of isolation, and step meetings help counter it. Step One establishes the need to reach out, while Step Twelve emphasizes the importance to continue to do so. All the while meetings, and sponsors, support and assist those in navigating their “stinking thinking” as they work through the steps. (More on sponsors, later.)

Photo Credit: pexels - pixaby

Expectations (Wisdom of the 12-Steps)

Bottom line: “Suit up and show up,” and “Keep coming back.” To a writer that means, Sit down and write, temper your expectations, submit more work and accept the rejections . . . then, rinse and repeat.

Our expectations abound in life. We expect the sun to rise tomorrow, whether we observe it or not. We expect gravity to pull us towards mother earth, even when we prefer it not. We all share a common set of expectations in life. Then, there are expectations less commonly shared.

Here's my encounter with one of mine, to which I suspect you can relate on the general level, if not specifically.

A few months ago, near completion of my website design, I found myself in a funk and wondered, What’s this about? My consultant, Rachel Sarah Thurston, had impressed upon me the importance of branding myself. (Though, heaven forbid, not in the sense of ranch hands tattooing cattle with hot iron!) In a very real way, I'm a novice in branding and marketing myself as a writer, at least in a conscious, deliberate manner presentable as a professional image.

I’m talking “brand,” that which differentiates one company from another, or music band from another, etc. It’s a marketing thing, and essential when you want, you need, to get noticed, to stand out from the crowd and highlight your “product.” We used to refer to brand as "your bag," and expressing yourself as “doing your own thing” or “letting your freak flag fly.” Those phrases passe, now, of course.

But it’s not easy for me to be specific and narrow myself—like voluntarily confining myself in a box—I’m a jack-of-all-trades kinda guy. When it comes to me as “the brand” . . . well, it feels superficial, like I’m trying to convince somebody of my worth. And I HATE that. My inclination is to take a trip to Rantville and cop an attitude, Hey, see me . . . I’m an earthling. Isn’t that f***in’ good enough for ya? But apparently, among the seven-billion others of us, that won’t likely generate interest in reading my work. And I’ve heard you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar! You know, the finesse approach.

So considering the bigger scheme, the long term, I pondered writing a blog about the12-Steps of Recovery, create "brand" around that, along with a theme of hiking the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail). But from what angle would I write about the 12-Steps? Would I even need an angle? Been done, that street corner claimed? I’m not saying I’m the end-all, know-all about the 12-Steps of Recovery, but I know a fair amount as a result of working in alcoholism and drug addiction treatment for twenty-five years.

Rachel suggested, “Start your own Facebook group,” among a number of encouragements. (More on this saga at a later date?)

My initial thoughts? Sure, then what? I gotta make rules, manage, monitor, patrol, police my group? I want to live and let live, not chase down bad behavior.

Instead, I searched for Facebook groups regarding the 12-Steps, found several, each with similar rules: no spam, no solicitations, no self-promotions.

Damn . . . can’t use those groups to promote my work? Can’t suggest? Mention? Hint? So, then what?

At a somewhat dead-end, I stumbled onto one group based on sharing humor related to 12-Steps.

I need some levity. Don’t we all, now and then? Oh, what the hell? Yeah, join that one. At least, maybe that one isn’t always serious.

But, joining that FB group didn’t suffice. My inner writer squirmed and my fingers twitched, finally compelling me to sit and write . . . something . . . anything. The realization dawned—step 10, "Continued to take personal inventory. . . ."—my own “stinking thinking” fear of rejection had created my virtual dead-end.

And with that, I inched forward on my healing and writing journey, and posted the first blog of my series on the “Wisdom of the 12-Steps.”

Photo Credit: Pexels - Sergei Akulich

The Basics of Recovery (Wisdom of the 12-Steps)

Bottom line: You don't need to be a victim of your circumstances, and like the smithy forging metal, you can reshape yourself.

We're all recovering from something or other. So, when you find your behavior, or whole life, is out of control . . . when you've suffered enough . . . when you're "sick and tired of feeling sick and tired" . . . then reach out, seek help.

I’ve posted previously about my thesis/relationship to the “12-Steps of Recovery.” Though there are books, movies, other blogs and groups on-line available to learn more about this subject, I’ll provide an overview of the steps here.

First, here’s a brief history of the origin of the 12-Steps. In the mid-1930’s, Bill W. struggled to gain control over his alcoholism. Over time, with the help of the “Oxford Group utilizing 6-Steps” and following a “spiritual awakening,” he gained sobriety. Those 6-Steps morphed into the current 12-Steps, along with the accompanying mutual support meetings called AA (Alcoholics Anonymous). Since then many support-group variations have been created, such as NA (Narcotics Anonymous), SAA (Sex Addicts Anonymous), OA (Overeaters Anonymous) . . . and the list goes on.

While working in a drug/alcohol treatment facility, I came across the following thumbnail version of the 12-Steps. Roughly, divided into three parts of four steps each, they are: 1) Seek God; 2) Clean house; and 3) Help others.

Read on, don’t let the word “God” turn you off. During Bill W. and Dr. Bob’s time, more people, I suspect, accepted the term “God.” Regardless, I heard numerous individuals in treatment say they wanted no part of “religion.” Over time, the term “higher power” replaced “God” within the 12-Step programs. Newcomers to 12-Steps were/are encouraged to “find a higher power,” to which to surrender their “control of their addiction.” At one meeting, newcomers were encouraged to adopt a chair as their “higher power,” if that would work for them. (Caution: avoid judging this technique. If it allows space/opportunity for an individual to start recovery, so be it. “Live and let live.”)

Steps 1-4 involve giving up one’s control over an addiction (problem), giving up dealing with it alone (connecting to others), and beginning to “surrender the burden” (finding a higher power).

Steps 5-8 involve looking inward in an honest way, examining destructive past behavior and the damage created, and taking responsibility for one’s actions. In other words, these include cleaning out the “stinking thinking,” replacing destructive attitudes and ways of reacting, apologizing to self and others (make amends, when appropriate), and developing the habit of self-examination and self-regulation.

Steps 9-12 involve helping others, “passing it on,” avoiding isolation by continuing to reach out, avoiding the attitude of “I’m cured,” and practicing and deepening skills learned.

Recovery is about action, requiring an active involvement in change. Those wanting/needing to recover must “work” the 12-Steps, if those steps are to be of help. Though the potential for relapse is ever-present, relief from the “problem” can be achieved, and even in the event of relapse, a new beginning always awaits. Rinse and repeat, as necessary . . . “the stains will fade,” though never be completely removed.

As mentioned, I’ve came to believe that the 12-Steps of Recovery, regardless of the “problem behavior,” can be applied successfully to a range of excessive/habituated behaviors, beyond alcoholism and drug addiction. Consider the 12-Steps support groups already established. And if there isn’t one existing nearby for a particular problem behavior . . . one can be started!

If I’ve rubbed a nerve the wrong way, I request you examine your objection(s) and consider that application of the 12-Steps to one’s life has been, and always will be, voluntary and that “recovery is an inside job.

Here’s my personal experience with Step One. At what I consider the lowest point in my life, following my military service which included a one-year tour in Vietnam ‘69-’70, I’d returned to college to complete a bachelor’s degree. I’d been experiencing reoccurring symptoms of acute “gut-aches.” Not sure what caused that pain, I’d sought help at the on-campus medical center, though the doc there hadn’t identified their cause. When a girl I loved—thought I did anyway—broke up with me, I found myself isolated and having suicidal thoughts. Soon after my next episode of “gut-ache,” I visited the on-campus medical center, again! The doc offered me an atropine script. Trained in army “basic” to use atropine as an antidote for nerve gas, I knew it to be serious stuff and nothing to trifle with. His offer “upped the stakes.” In misery, overwhelmed, alone, desperate, not wanting to die from atropine poisoning and feeling compelled, I blurted to him, “I don’t want to be this way anymore,” and accepted a referral for counseling on campus, instead. With that, I’d taken a first step and admitted powerlessness over my problem (suicidal thoughts/feelings). My first on-campus counseling session started a journey of self-examination.

Photo Credit: Jonny Gios - Unsplash