My husband’s heart went into atrial fibrillation last week, so we spent twenty-four hours in the hospital to treat his problem. His nurse during the last few hours there, told us that even though she had become a nurse late in life, she still had one last dream to pursue: being a writer.
“Oh wow, I am a writer, too.” I said.
“When I get caught up, we will have to talk about that!” she said.
Nurses are busy people and so we didn’t have time for a chat. But right as she was discharging my husband she asked, “What do you write about?”
I caught myself taking in a slow, deep breath. It was as if I needed the extra oxygen to respond to her question. Inhaling, I thought of how to craft my answer. I’m proud of the work that I’ve been doing. I know how necessary it is. And yet, the subject of addiction is not always one that is received well.
Exhaling is like a prayer of release offering this work to God to be used as he so desires despite how my answer is received. “I write about healing family addiction using the 12-steps and Ignatian spirituality,” I said.
I watched for her reaction. I have welcomed a variety of responses since I have gone public. I imagine that each response is filtered through the life experience of the respondent. This allows me to accept the stigma a little easier.
“My son is in recovery. She said. I think he’s got it this time. That is so great what you are doing.”
I feel the tension leave my body and I am grateful for the opportunity.
The stigma of addiction is the cause of this traumatic response. I fear judgment for my loved ones. Why did I have to write about this topic? Why can’t I write about something that doesn’t affect them?
When this situation arises, I tend to forget that more often than not, the responses tend to be those of understanding and gratitude. Most people have been touched by this disease in some way.
I’ve been seeking recovery from the addictions of others for ten years now. I’ve gone to close to 10,000 12-step meetings, as Father Tom Weston, SJ often says. I’ve been in family counseling, written and rewritten, edited, revised and lived this story for so long. My family members are in long-term recovery. If my reaction to that question is of the breath-holding variety, how hard is it for the mom whose world has just fallen apart? How difficult is it for a fellow parishioner who looks at other families during mass and imagines that their worlds are perfect? How unimaginable is it for the family who’s loved one has tried and failed to the point that they are losing hope?
And yet, how hard is it to keep those secrets in? How painful is it to carry the burden alone? How frightening to fear for a child, spouse, brother, sister, parent or friend without the support of another person?
These thoughts help me remember to take that deep breath and hoist my cross a little higher. You see, the longer I carry it and the more I share it, the lighter its load becomes. That is the message that I hope those who face their journey alone will receive.
My 12-step program says that we are as sick as our secrets. Once we let those secrets out, they lose their power over us. Once we stop hiding, we can stop listening to the voice of the enemy who tells us that there is no hope.
Hope is abundant. Take in a deep breath. Exhale out the fear. Christ teaches us that out of the wounds comes new life. Who knows, your story might just be what your neighbor needs to hold on.
I just bumped into your blog via Ignatian spirituality and I so need it. For years I would google catholic addiction, wife, family…anything hoping to find encouraging words that would also feed my broken spirit. Today I did in your blog, I have just read one article and that is the first on my gratitude list. Thank you for courageously writing about such a hard topic.
I did my own Google search years ago. I always came up empty. That is why I decided to write about this topic. ‘We are as sick as our secrets’. It’s time to bring this topic out into the light!
The stigma around addiction has been built through centuries of narrative (or the lack of it), that sometimes it’s so difficult to get past it. However, what you are doing is slowly breaking that tough barrier for us to start having proper conversation about it. To talk about supposedly ‘taboo’ topics, and I’m happy you’re shedding much needed light to it. Thank you for what you’re doing!
Angelica, you are so right. This disease has affected my loved ones—in too many generations. I won’t keep silent. Thanks for your support!
Thank you for your words of encouragement. Bringing this topic into the light—in the Church is important. This too is a pro-life issue.
So glad to find your website. Sorry to hear about your husband’s heart troubles.
Since I fit the profile of the adult child of an alcoholic (neither of my parents is/was alcoholic, but both their lives were touched by alcoholism), I can relate to all the ways we feel so deeply responsible for things, want to fix things, etc. I’ve been in therapy for 13+ years, gone to Al-Anon meetings, gone to women’s groups/retreats. It’s amazing how long it takes to do this work, yet it has been so freeing (though I still have far to go) and healing. The Sacraments help tremendously (especially Confession), as does prayer and a relationship with Our Lord (in fact, I would say they are key to healing).
My sister (may she rest in peace, and may light perpetual shine upon her) was a recovering alcoholic. It was so tough to watch her actively drinking, constantly worrying if she’d cause an accident. One thing I would say to the family member of an alcoholic is to please have mercy on them. I don’t say to condone or excuse their behavior, but HAVE MERCY on them, please. I have expressly told my sister that I felt many times as though I could be an alcoholic, but without the alcohol. She thanked me. Life is hard and painful, and I understand why people turn to drink (please don’t mistake this to say that I condone/approve of alcoholism, but I see that there is a pain underneath that is driving the behavior). We are all fallen and broken human beings, and none of us is perfect. Condemning the alcoholic in your life is not the answer. I saw some of my relatives do this, and I thought it to be so hurtful. I truly felt for my sister.
That you ran into the nurse at the hospital and shared with her what you write about, is, no doubt, Providential. Thank you for what you do. Know that it helps many people.
Peace to you and yours,
Melisa
Thank you for sharing your story. I think every story shared lightens the load for others. And, yes mercy. Because I have been given mercy, I freely offer it to others.