Friendship – The gift
Yesterday I was with some men and women who are learning to live without succumbing to the acute seduction of additive drugs. I have recently resumed volunteering at this treatment center one day a week. While I was living in another state for two years I had missed being with the staff and clients of this healing space. This center was started by two friends of mine, both of whom are now deceased. Fortunately, both had found their way to recovery programs many years ago and, once on a healing path, gave 200% of themselves to helping others caught in the grip of addictive substances and other behaviors. I met both of these men shortly after I began to work at a community mental health center in Wheeling, West Virginia. I had moved to the area to be closer to my young son. It was at this center that I began a long and ongoing relationship as a student and a friend. I have been blessed in my life journey with a number of teachers. These men taught me not only about addiction, but about courage, humility and love. Although I had had a lot of formal education and onsite training prior to arriving to this particular intersection in my life, I had and have much to learn. I may need to live to be as old as Methuselah to learn as much as these two men knew about courage and humility. Perhaps older than Methuselah’s 969 years.
Every time I spend time with men and women in recovery I am humbled. So it was yesterday that I was humbled by the depth of love of two of the clients whose friend E had died a few days ago as a direct result of this illness of addiction. Not surprisingly this was not the first time that either of these men or others at the treatment center including staff had to face the fact that addiction is always a life-threatening illness. Sometimes it kills quickly. Sometimes it takes longer but if left untreated it always kills. Some of the staff felt as if they could not face attending another funeral or even stopping by the funeral home. This young man who had just died had formerly been a client at this center and had gained the love and respect of the staff as well as others.
For many of us who have the courage to love, grief arrives like the strongest, largest tackle during a football game. Wham! It sucks the breath out of one. Sometimes after a tackle one recovers. When one loses a close friend one never completely recover. In the beginning one is sure that one cannot live with the deep pain. If one has a history of any sort of addiction (work, drugs, sex, money, power, anger or something else which can temporarily numb one) the first thought when hit with such pain is to get numb as quickly as possible. If the way of getting numb is the use of addictive drugs then, despite the fact that the pain is a direct result of addiction, one has an overwhelming urge to use that drug. To some who have a less life threatening way of avoiding the pain, this may seem self-centered and incomprehensible. Yet, it makes perfect sense to me. That does not mean I recommend it. To use is insane. At the same time it is no more insane than me thinking that if I cleaned, chopped wood (when I lived in the country), did some other physical labor, cooked for the family of the deceased one (enough to feed 100 people for 100 days if need be to avoid the pain) I can avoid pain for any amount of time.
There is no activity and no drug which can allow one to completely avoid the pain. The friend is gone and a part of one is permanently gone.
The friends of this deceased man talked about the fact that even in his active addiction he was a kind, giving person.
Instead of giving in to the urge to numb themselves out, these two men did as the 12-step program recommends. They called people and went to meetings. They talked, cried, talked, went to more meetings, talked, cried and one step at a time discovered:
· One can, with support, face pain.
· Allowing passionate grieving gives one strength rather than weakening one.
· Our decisions affect, not just us, but everyone in our circle of love and circle of influence.
Again I was and am the student. I was reminded that:
· They had learned a lot.
· We are all more than the labels of our conditions, illness, particular behaviors, characteristics or roles.
· The answer to the loss of a loved one is to love more even if it feels too painful.
· The principles of the 12-step program can work for all of us no matter what our strengths and weaknesses.
· I am blessed to be with such strong, courageous, loving people as I find at this treatment program.
· Friendship is always a gift.
· Honoring someone who has died as a result of an illness may mean honoring the truth that we all have what the friend who died felt he or she did not have.
Written December 28, 2016
Yesterday I was with some men and women who are learning to live without succumbing to the acute seduction of additive drugs. I have recently resumed volunteering at this treatment center one day a week. While I was living in another state for two years I had missed being with the staff and clients of this healing space. This center was started by two friends of mine, both of whom are now deceased. Fortunately, both had found their way to recovery programs many years ago and, once on a healing path, gave 200% of themselves to helping others caught in the grip of addictive substances and other behaviors. I met both of these men shortly after I began to work at a community mental health center in Wheeling, West Virginia. I had moved to the area to be closer to my young son. It was at this center that I began a long and ongoing relationship as a student and a friend. I have been blessed in my life journey with a number of teachers. These men taught me not only about addiction, but about courage, humility and love. Although I had had a lot of formal education and onsite training prior to arriving to this particular intersection in my life, I had and have much to learn. I may need to live to be as old as Methuselah to learn as much as these two men knew about courage and humility. Perhaps older than Methuselah’s 969 years.
Every time I spend time with men and women in recovery I am humbled. So it was yesterday that I was humbled by the depth of love of two of the clients whose friend E had died a few days ago as a direct result of this illness of addiction. Not surprisingly this was not the first time that either of these men or others at the treatment center including staff had to face the fact that addiction is always a life-threatening illness. Sometimes it kills quickly. Sometimes it takes longer but if left untreated it always kills. Some of the staff felt as if they could not face attending another funeral or even stopping by the funeral home. This young man who had just died had formerly been a client at this center and had gained the love and respect of the staff as well as others.
For many of us who have the courage to love, grief arrives like the strongest, largest tackle during a football game. Wham! It sucks the breath out of one. Sometimes after a tackle one recovers. When one loses a close friend one never completely recover. In the beginning one is sure that one cannot live with the deep pain. If one has a history of any sort of addiction (work, drugs, sex, money, power, anger or something else which can temporarily numb one) the first thought when hit with such pain is to get numb as quickly as possible. If the way of getting numb is the use of addictive drugs then, despite the fact that the pain is a direct result of addiction, one has an overwhelming urge to use that drug. To some who have a less life threatening way of avoiding the pain, this may seem self-centered and incomprehensible. Yet, it makes perfect sense to me. That does not mean I recommend it. To use is insane. At the same time it is no more insane than me thinking that if I cleaned, chopped wood (when I lived in the country), did some other physical labor, cooked for the family of the deceased one (enough to feed 100 people for 100 days if need be to avoid the pain) I can avoid pain for any amount of time.
There is no activity and no drug which can allow one to completely avoid the pain. The friend is gone and a part of one is permanently gone.
The friends of this deceased man talked about the fact that even in his active addiction he was a kind, giving person.
Instead of giving in to the urge to numb themselves out, these two men did as the 12-step program recommends. They called people and went to meetings. They talked, cried, talked, went to more meetings, talked, cried and one step at a time discovered:
· One can, with support, face pain.
· Allowing passionate grieving gives one strength rather than weakening one.
· Our decisions affect, not just us, but everyone in our circle of love and circle of influence.
Again I was and am the student. I was reminded that:
· They had learned a lot.
· We are all more than the labels of our conditions, illness, particular behaviors, characteristics or roles.
· The answer to the loss of a loved one is to love more even if it feels too painful.
· The principles of the 12-step program can work for all of us no matter what our strengths and weaknesses.
· I am blessed to be with such strong, courageous, loving people as I find at this treatment program.
· Friendship is always a gift.
· Honoring someone who has died as a result of an illness may mean honoring the truth that we all have what the friend who died felt he or she did not have.
Written December 28, 2016
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