Long-Term Recovery: Laying Our Demons to Rest
When we quit an addictive process it’s like peeling back the layers of skin on an onion. The booze or the drugs, or whatever else it was that we were previously using, are ripped away and they’re no longer available to numb our emotional distress. We’re left with a whole load of raw feelings that we must learn to deal with during our recovery, without picking up an addictive substance.
Giving up booze and drugs is only the first layer of the onion. Recovery in the long term is about learning to live comfortably and contentedly in a manner that’s sober and clean. It’s about achieving a healthy state of mind in which we feel at ease with ourselves. For most addicts this means experiencing something that many self-help fellowships describe as a ‘spiritual awakening’.
As I explained earlier, this isn’t necessarily anything to do with religion (although some people do go down that path) – it’s more to do with discovering a comfortable way of coexisting with the rest of the world.
We need to let go of trying to manipulate and frantically control everything around us, and instead learn to go with the flow of life in an ordered and sensible way.
It involves discovering humility and letting go of our feelings of being ‘Less Than’ or ‘Greater Than’ other people. We need to understand that no human being is perfect, and we must learn to live with our character defects without letting them dominate us. This process might mean that there are many more layers of the onion we need to peel away in order for us to continue to lead a happy life.
We may need to constantly re-examine our relationships with others, or ask ourselves whether we’re contented in our job and in our day-to-day activities. If we need to make changes we should not rush at them head first, but instead take things step by step and at a slow pace.
Many people find themselves locked in a job or a career that they simply fell into, rather than seeking it out by design. In my life I’ve had four distinct occupations, and it’s only the last one, as a therapist, that I consciously chose. The rest I just took because they happened to be there. My job in a factory, my work as a salesman, and later as a publican, all just seemed to happen by accident. At the time it felt like I was making a choice, but I was really just falling into them because nothing else was immediately available. It was only when I went into recovery that I paused for thought and really worked out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.
One of the things that I advise clients to do is to be aware of their dreams and aspirations for the future. This can be incredibly helpful, because surprisingly few addicts have goals in life; most have no idea where they’re going or why.
This is very stressful in itself. We need to ask ourselves what we want out of life and examine what it is that we think will make us truly at ease with ourselves. This isn’t a straightforward process, because an addict’s default position is ‘ill at ease’. We’re like computers that have certain settings they automatically return to.
Our default is to return to the addictive process, and it’s important to understand that this urge will always remain dormant within us. The success of our recovery, in the long term, is dependent on changing these settings in a way that’s sustainable and lasting.
One thing I encourage clients to do is to visit a big bookstore and spend an hour wandering around and making a note of anything that catches their eye. This often throws up all sorts of clues about where their true interests in life lie.
I’ve treated many bankers and solicitors who discover that their great passion in life is actually gardening or photography. Some of them have changed careers as a result, although I would caution you to pause before you rush into such a big life change without giving it sufficient thought and discussing it with others.
My own journey through long-term recovery involved having to come to terms with issues regarding my sexuality. I’d grown up believing that I was heterosexual, and I had no idea that I might be gay. As a child my father had called me a pansy, and I saw homosexuality as something to be ashamed of.
It meant that I lived a lie for most of my adult life. Although I’d had one minor sexual experience with another male when I was 15, I’d dismissed it; I was in complete denial about my true sexuality. It was only when I was well into my recovery that my real feelings began to surface.
One hot afternoon I was driving through Wales with my family when we got stuck in traffic. A guy cycled by my car wearing tight shorts, and I suddenly felt a sexual charge go through me. On another occasion shortly after that, I was walking down the street when I saw a man and a woman coming towards me. I felt confused, because I fancied both of them. It was the start of a long process that eventually led me to confess to my wife that I had sexual feelings towards other guys. She told me that she’d secretly known this, having watched the way I’d been reacting for the previous three years.
I’d buried the fact that I was gay, but deep down my subconscious knew it all along. Because I wrongly saw it as something bad, I’d been walking around feeling dirty and ashamed. It fuelled my sense of worthlessness and it partly explains why I became addicted to alcohol and prescription drugs.
During recovery, you may have to face up to things about yourself that come as a surprise, or even a shock. In the long term, the process requires self-evaluation and honesty.
Now that I’m in long-term recovery I no longer feel that way, and I’m at ease with my sexuality, but it was a long time before I could be completely honest with myself. Of course, I’m not suggesting for one second that every addict has issues with their sexuality. The point I’m making is that unexpected emotions and feelings can surface at any time after you quit an addictive process.
One of the most vital ways of helping to maintain our recovery in the long term is to continue to participate in a 12-Step programme (see chapter 20) This is something that’s of immense help on a practical level during the early days of sobriety, but in my opinion it’s just as important in the later years of our journey.
By continuing to attend the meetings of a 12-Step fellowship, we can constantly remind ourselves that our default setting is that of an addict. I’ve been clean and sober for 25 years, but when I see a fellow addict struggling it reminds me of where I came from, and it makes me aware of the fact that I could so easily go back.
When you’ve been in recovery for a while you may find it immensely helpful to sponsor a newcomer to the programme. This involves sharing your own experiences in order to guide someone else through their early days of recovery. By helping others in this way we learn humility, and it also acts as a reminder of when we were a suffering addict.
However, in many cases, doing a 12-Step programme in isolation may not be enough to help an addict achieve true contentment. This is particularly the case if they’ve experienced a high degree of trauma during their childhood. In my experience as a therapist, unresolved childhood trauma is the biggest factor in causing relapses among recovering addicts.
In cases like this, I would strongly recommend that the patient seeks professional help by undergoing a Trauma Reduction programme, as pioneered by Pia Mellody. This is a way of exploring childhood issues and learning to let go of them through therapy and discussion. In my opinion, the majority of addicts suffer from the codependency that childhood trauma creates, and it can continue to cause them emotional distress even though they’re no longer involved in addictive processes.
In addition to the Trauma Reduction programmes, some therapists also try to help addicts overcome their problems via a process called Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing, or EMDR. This is a form of psychotherapy that was developed by an American therapist called Francine Shapiro, who has conducted a large amount of research into post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
EMDR is a way of processing the distress that we may feel due to a past trauma, so it reduces and no longer has the same hold over us.
The symptoms that many addicts suffer from are similar to those of PTSD, and I’ve found that EMDR is a very effective tool during my own work as a therapist. It’s a process that involves a patient focusing their eyes on a bright light that moves from side to side across a device called a light-bar.
The patient’s eyes move back and forth as they follow the light, during which time they concentrate their thoughts on the memory of the trauma they suffered. Their feelings of distress may have been locked in their limbic system for many years, but the EMDR process seems to ease these feelings considerably.
Experts are divided on exactly how it works, but in my opinion the movement of the eyes somehow stimulates the neural pathways in the brain to allow the limbic system to reconnect with the temporal part of the mind. This has the effect of processing the traumatic memories so they no longer have such a huge hold over us. While the science behind EMDR might not yet be fully understood, I can vouch for its success in about 60 per cent of the cases in which I have used it.
The reason we remain at risk of relapse during long-term recovery is that our limbic system can kick in at any time and cause us to go off the rails. We never lose our oversensitivity to emotional distress. Instead we must learn to live with it in a positive manner. This means being aware of our feelings and not seeking to numb them through substances like drink and drugs, or processes like sex and shopping.
This isn’t easy, because, as we know, we cannot simply switch off our limbic system.
Earlier, I explained my theory that addicts are descended from The Watchers: people whom nature has engineered to be supersensitive to danger and stress. Even in long-term recovery, we remain highly attuned to any threat to our wellbeing, and the result is that our limbic system remains capable of causing us to react in a compulsive way.
In layman’s terms, addicts are just not very good at dealing with the shit that life can throw at us. Therefore, there’s always a danger that we’ll revert to our old addictions, even when we’re in long-term recovery.
So there may be things that are locked within our limbic system which remain dormant without our knowledge. These might surface at any time if they’re triggered by external events. For example, in my case, I used to react extremely badly if someone was late for an appointment and kept me waiting. I would fly into a rage that was out of all proportion to the situation. If the person was due at 5 p.m., but didn’t turn up until ten minutes past, I’d be agitated and in a foul mood.
The reason I felt like that was due to a childhood experience that had become locked in my limbic system. When I was a boy, my aunt and uncle had a small farm in the countryside and I loved going to stay with them. They would come to pick me up on a Saturday afternoon, and on this particular occasion they were due to arrive at 4 p.m. When the time came, I was ready and waiting, sat outside my house with my bag packed. But they didn’t arrive.
This was in the days before mobile phones so I sat there alone, waiting for them, for five hours. I was just a small boy and I felt lonely and abandoned. It might not seem like much of a trauma through the eyes of an adult, but as a child I was distraught.
I thought that my aunt and uncle didn’t love me anymore, and I got myself into a right state. In fact, they’d been unavoidably delayed and they eventually came the next day, but the emotional distress that I’d felt stayed locked in my limbic system.
In later life, the anger I experienced when people kept me waiting was a defence mechanism against the emotional pain and feelings of insecurity that it triggered from childhood. I’d feel insulted and abandoned. I had no conscious control over this reaction, and it continued to occur after I went into recovery.
It was only when I became aware of it through Trauma Reduction therapy that I began to understand the true nature of my feelings. These days I’m able to adopt a more spiritual approach: if somebody is late then I accept it’s beyond my control and that it’s not the end of the world.
I don’t get angry anymore, although I still can’t change the fact that I’m an impatient person. It’s drilled into my limbic system.
It’s highly likely that most addicts have a whole raft of things like this lurking in their limbic system, just waiting to be triggered. These are just as likely to surface in long-term recovery as they are at any other time.
Interestingly, I believe that this is a phenomenon that affects animals as well. A friend of mine had an Irish Red Setter dog that would go crazy whenever it saw anything large that was painted yellow, like a vehicle. The dog was a beautiful, calm animal – until it spotted something yellow, in which case it would go into a wild frenzy, howling and dashing about. My friend had no idea what caused it: I can only assume the creature once had a terrifying experience involving something that was yellow in colour!
When we’ve been in recovery for a long period of time it’s very easy for us to become complacent. The conscious memory of the pain that we felt as a consequence of using drink or drugs can fade, and we can begin to forget the dark places our addiction led us to. I have friends who’ve been abstinent from alcohol for 25 years, yet one day they’ve gone out and suddenly decided to start drinking again. Within 24 hours they were often smashed out of their heads and right back to the same terrible state they’d found themselves in at the height of their addiction.
One man I know went to a garden party on a hot summer’s day and was offered a glass of chilled wine. He’d been sober for so long he assumed that just one glass wouldn’t do him any harm, so he accepted it. He suffered no immediate after-effects – but the next day he drank two bottles of vodka. His demons returned with terrifying speed.
When you’ve been in recovery for a long time it’s easy to think that you’re cured, but unfortunately an addict is never fully cured. Addiction is a progressive disease that’s incurable – and it can also be fatal.
The good news is that it doesn’t have to be progressive, or fatal (although it can’t be fully cured). We can arrest its progress and learn to live a life that’s contented and fruitful. We do this by learning to live comfortably with ourselves. This means paying attention to all the basic things that we learn in early recovery, like attention to diet, exercise and rest. If we look after our bodies in this way, the mind will feel the benefits.
One of the popular misconceptions about relapses is that they can occur at any time, out of the blue. One day we can be functioning perfectly normally in a sober fashion and then we suddenly implode for no apparent reason. This might seem to be the case when viewed from the perspective of an outsider, but relapse is actually a process that begins long before the victim picks up a drink or a drug.
There’s a respected addiction expert in the USA called Terence Gorski who has conducted a large amount of research in this area. He has concluded that there are multiple stages in a relapse, which begin with seemingly innocuous events such as a change in an addict’s daily routine. In my opinion, this is always the case. Relapses don’t just happen spontaneously, but brew up for some time, like a coming storm. In long-term recovery we remain at high risk of relapse because it’s so easy to become complacent about the little things in life if we fall into the trap of believing we’re cured.
But by being mindful of the warning signals we can be on guard against slipping back into our old, bad habits. For this reason, we need to constantly reappraise our behaviour. Are our relationships with others starting to struggle? Have we become obsessed by the acquisition of sex, or money, or certain types of food? These are all factors that can be early flags that a relapse is on the way.
In long-term recovery we also need to be mindful of building up resentments against others, as these can just as easily eat away at us in sobriety as they can while we’re using. In fellowship circles this is often described as avoiding ‘stinking thinking’.
This covers a whole range of negative mental states, such as when we blame the way we’re feeling on others, or when we can’t be bothered with putting time and effort into the recovery process by attending self-help meetings or practising the suggestions contained in the 12 Steps.
It’s important to remember that even in long-term recovery, an addict still has a Shame Sack that has the power to affect them adversely. The best way to avoid creating new feelings of shame is to lead an open and honest lifestyle.
A friend of mine has a sponsor who described this very well by saying, ‘It’s about keeping my side of the street clean.’ This means avoiding the temptation to fall into old patterns of behaviour that we may have practised while we were using drink or drugs.
A good acid test is that if an action or a deed makes you feel bad inside, then avoid doing it!
One way of avoiding feelings of guilt and shame is to ensure that our actions in life are in harmony with our personal values. By this I mean that, ideally, we need to conduct ourselves in a way that’s in accordance with whatever we consider to be morally correct. Of course, moral viewpoints can differ from person to person, but most of us have an inherent sense of right and wrong.
When our actions conflict with our values it causes discord that leads us to feel pain and shame, which in turn can lead to relapse. If any part of your life involves ‘actions’ that offend your ‘values’, you need to change one or the other.
Normally, this involves changing our behaviour, but this is not always the case, since we may hold values that we’ve inherited from others that we don’t actually believe in.
Here’s an example of how actions might come into conflict with values. Let’s say you are a recovering sex addict. One of your values might be that you consider it wrong to sleep with prostitutes. However, if your actions are that you do indeed sleep with prostitutes, you’re behaving in a way that’s in direct conflict with your values. And the result is that you’re probably going to feel an awful lot of shame.
In this instance, most people would agree that it’s probably best to change your actions and stop using hookers (I’m not seeking to make a judgement here; what matters is the addict’s own sense of values, not mine.) However, there may be times when it’s more appropriate to change your values rather than your actions.
Let’s say you’re a workaholic whose values say that you need to work seven days a week with no respite. However, when you do that, you suffer from exhaustion, and as a result it causes you severe distress. In this instance, it might be better to change your values, perhaps to something more practical like, ‘I will work as hard as I can, while taking proper rest when I need to.’
It’s amazing how many parts of your life you can apply this sort of test to. You will find that the more your actions are in accordance with your values, the better you’ll feel.
The key to a contented recovery is continuing to get the basic things in life right. Here are some practical headings (some of which are similar to those highlighted by Terence Gorski) that you may find helpful:
Do you feel like you’re going nowhere, both at work and at home? If you’re feeling lethargic or demotivated it may be time to ask yourself why. If all you do with your leisure time is vegetate in front of the television you may find there’s an underlying reason. Is there something that’s making you unhappy or discontented? Do you neglect little jobs around the home? Are you starting to find it hard to concentrate on work matters?
When we start to let the little things slip, bigger problems often follow. The only person who can truly judge whether or not you’ve had a change in mental attitude is you. The important thing is to recognize it when it happens and to take action. Talk to a sponsor, and think about increasing the number of self-help meetings that you attend.
Complacency is the No. 1 enemy of the recovering addict. If you start to question whether or not you still need to attend self-help meetings, or practise the principles outlined in the 12 Steps, then it should act as a big red light. Remember: an addict is never cured. By avoiding putting effort into your recovery you risk returning to your default settings.
Of course, recovery isn’t just about attending meetings, and you may find that you don’t need to attend as many as you did in early recovery. However, regular contact with other recovering addicts is essential if you wish to be truly certain of maintaining your healthy lifestyle. Going to at least one or two meetings a week is a small price to pay for the benefits that it brings.
If you find yourself struggling to attend meetings, you could try taking on what’s known as a ‘service commitment’. This is when you agree to undertake a menial task at a meeting, such as making the tea or helping to sweep up afterwards. It not only teaches you humility, but it also creates an obligation to attend a set meeting each week. The key is regular attendance.
If you scratch an addict, you’ll find that under the surface he or she invariably has relationship issues. Addiction is caused by our inability to cope with life issues – and there are no greater issues than those thrown up by our personal relationships. These are not just with partners, but with other family members such as parents, siblings and children, plus work colleagues and friends.
If you suddenly find that a relationship is under strain, ask yourself why that is. Have you changed your own behaviour towards the other person? And if so, what is your role in the problems you’re experiencing? If a key relationship breaks down it can be a strong trigger for relapse, so you need to be on your guard in this area. Where appropriate, don’t be afraid to seek professional help. If you’re struggling in a marriage or with a partner then don’t rule out relationship counselling.
Having a good diet is vitally important for a recovering addict, in both the long and the short term. Are you continuing to eat three balanced meals every day, consisting of breakfast, lunch and dinner? Or have you suddenly found yourself pigging out on junk food or excessive amounts of sugar?
A change in diet can have an enormous affect on our mental wellbeing. If you’ve noticeably lost or gained weight then ask yourself why. Is there something going on in your life that’s causing you stress and agitation? If so, don’t leave it unaddressed. Deal with it by talking to somebody, such as a sponsor or a loved one. Part of being in a healthy recovery is knowing when to ask for help.
Regular exercise is important at any age. It doesn’t have to be excessive, but it’s important that you have a healthy routine if you’re to give your recovery the best chance of success.
Many doctors recommend at least 30 minutes of moderate exercise, three times a week. Depending on your age and physical make-up this might consist of walking or running, or perhaps a trip to the gym. The goal is to have a regular routine that you stick to in order to maintain your wellbeing.
Just because you’re in long-term recovery, it doesn’t mean that you’re immune to the pressures of stress and anxiety. As a recovering addict, your default setting is to continue to have an oversensitivity to emotional distress.
If there are things going on in your life that lead to an increase in your stress levels, it’s vitally important that you’re aware of these and take the appropriate action. Meditation and relaxation can play a key role in recovery and their value should not be underestimated.
Anger is a luxury that recovering addicts cannot afford. If you’re walking around with a temper like a hair trigger, it’s a warning signal that something isn’t right. There may be things that happen to you from time to time that make you justifiably upset, and to be angry in those circumstances is a natural emotion. But if you’re routinely irritable about mundane things of no real significance, there’s a good chance you’re heading for a fall.
At the root of anger we nearly always find fear and issues of low self-worth. These are the very emotions that fuel addictive behaviour. If you’re using anger as a tool to avoid having to deal with your own feelings, I would suggest that you’re in danger of relapse. We need to work through our resentments and let them go.
A good definition of a spiritual awakening is that it’s when we find a way of living that allows us to exist in a state of serenity. By this I mean that we’re at peace with ourselves and with the rest of the world. It doesn’t mean being in a state of euphoria. Instead, it’s about feeling okay, in spite of the stresses and strains we may have to go through.
One piece of advice I can give you for achieving a spiritual awakening is to learn to be kind to yourself. Humans are imperfect creatures, so don’t be too hard on yourself when you get things wrong. Addicts are notorious for being perfectionists, but the flip side is that they’re highly self-critical. Many also suffer from an inner core of low self-esteem, so beating themselves up when something is less than perfect only adds to the problem.
Remember, too, that you may need to keep peeling back the layers of the onion for many years, as recovery is a constant process rather than a finite event. As you grow and mature as a human, new layers are revealed. In this respect recovery is a voyage of self-discovery. Only by constant vigilance can we ensure our demons are laid to rest.
There’s a saying in therapy circles that what addicts are seeking is progress rather than perfection. It’s good advice.
A big part of enjoying a successful recovery is learning to avoid black and white thinking. By this I mean that most addicts tend to see things in terms of being either good or bad, and they usually look at everything from a negative perspective rather than a positive one. But real life is rarely as clear-cut as this. When we experience a spiritual awakening we become closer to our inner self, as well as to others. We learn to look at life in a different way from the manner in which we did while we were in active addiction.
Instead of being consumed by anger and resentment, we need to look for the good in other people, and be willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. During our addiction, we become self-centered because the fear that we’re carrying inside us makes us selfish. But when the fear is taken away it should allow us to realize that there are other human beings on the planet beside ourselves.
This involves a certain amount of humility, which is something that’s very hard to learn. By becoming more humble we learn to think of others. We need to reconnect with the rest of the human race in a way that allows intimacy in the appropriate circumstances.
By this I mean that we should allow ourselves to be honest with others about the way we feel. But most addicts hate intimacy. Many will describe feeling awkward and insecure at social gatherings if they’re unable to indulge in their addiction. Getting off their heads on booze or drugs is a way of giving themselves false confidence, while also avoiding being open and honest.
But learning to allow others to see the real person inside us is a form of intimacy that’s hugely beneficial to our recovery. I pretended to be somebody I wasn’t for many years and I paid a heavy price.
A spiritual awakening also involves learning not to drive yourself up the wall about things that you can’t change. When I was in active addiction I’d go into a wild fury if I disagreed with things that people said. I’d bawl and shout because I wanted the world to be organized the way I wanted it to be. All I succeeded in doing was driving myself into a frenzy, which gave me the perfect excuse to drink even more.
Today I’ve learned to accept that there are certain things about the world that I don’t agree with. Acceptance of who we are and acceptance of our limitations can play a very positive role in long-term recovery. It’s the key to finding true serenity.