Went to group therapy yesterday and came out with mixed emotions. Usually I walk away from these feeling pretty good – at least better than beforehand. And while I hate to admit it, I think a big part of my feeling better comes from hearing stories from people who are worse off than I am.
Not that I’m some sick sadist who relishes in the misfortunes of others, but I'd be lying if I said a big part of the value I get from group therapy wasn't in the relative progress and recovery I feel I've made compared to those earlier in recovery, or who have made bigger mistakes, been in my position and lost more, etc.. Again, I really don't see it as gaining from their losses, but recognizing that my situation could always be worse, and in many cases I’ve been where they are and have progressed from that point.
But today was different. There was indeed someone at the group who shared his personal history and situation, one that was far worse than mine. But his kind of worse was an order of magnitude greater than the the kind that has provided me with senses of accomplishment or progress in the past. He is dealing with with the combined challenges of substance addiction, as well as and doubtless the result of pretty clear Post Traumatic Stress Disorder stemming from his experiences being brutally tortured in his home land (an African country that I admit I can't recall).
Just so we're clear: I’m depressed and unmotivated, feeling sorry for myself and letting my family slip away from me because of overdue taxes and the stresses of work. This guy was tortured....beaten violently and otherwise violated, now living with memories that he said (and I believe) would necessitate the rest of us in group going through a separate therapy program if he told us the details of his memories. These memories he’ll never be able to forget - it’s no wonder he turned to substances to try to run from them, or at least dull them if for only a short time.
Wow, do I feel like a shmuck. Compared to this guy, I don’t have real problems; I’m dealing with the stresses of being a spouse, parent, employee...I’m being brought down – depressed and addicted - by the basic realities of being an adult. Grow up for God’s sake. Take on your responsibilities. Snap out of it, right?
I wish it were that easy. And frankly, I hope it may be easier now, having hearing just the tip of the iceberg of the story of man who has harsh, graphic, traumatic...real reasons to be dealing with depression and addiction. For feeling better off than this man - this survivor - has given no pleasure today.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Slow Start to the Year
The recovery project isn't over...it's just been a slow start to 2010, a really slow one.
On the one hand, I can`t believe that January is almost over and I`ve got virtually nothing to show for it - in terms of finding a job, getting taxes done, getting healthier and more.
The seasonal job I landed in December ended up netting me less than $100, and I didn`t make the cut to ongoing part-time. Realistically I`ve got to get out of the house to do anything productive, but I keep telling myself I just need today at home to psych myself up, to catch up on sleep, whatever. And up until the other day - and even then, because of my dad`s girlfriend virtually physically leading me through it - I hadnt done a single thing to move forward on my years` overdue taxes, the bane of my existence for years and the potential fatal stress to my marriage.
On the other hand, days and weeks themselves seem to be agonizingly long, largely because I keep staying at home by myself.
I know being alone is dangerous to addicts (hungry, angry, lonely and tired are the big triggers from AA I believe) and from the last month I`d say definitely with depression too. Being alone leaves me alone with my thoughts, which all too often circle back to my failures, my losses, what a bad guy I am, when my wife is going to tell me it`s over, or (worse for me, better for her) that she`s met a guy that gives her happiness and pampering, not stress and dissappointment...a.k.a. generally feeling sorry for myself.
`Can`t you channel that anger or sadness into being productive?`my friends or family often ask. Obviously not. I wish.
What I can do is relapse, back to the self-medication approach. To my credit, not only have I stayed away from the crack and Oxy (albeit with help from methadone), but I`ve only had a couple of drinks, and a handful of days of smoking, since the new year. But what I have done is snort my way through my last prescription of Wellbutrin, and counteract it with my month supply of Clonazepam, in a matter of days. Next time will be different, I mean it this time...
I keep telling myself that I just need a bit more time, a bit more rest, or that tomorrow will be the day I start working as soon as I get up. Time`s up, and something`s got to change. Some I know and I just keep putting off; some I think I know but simply can`t accept; some I guess I just don`t have a clue.
On the one hand, I can`t believe that January is almost over and I`ve got virtually nothing to show for it - in terms of finding a job, getting taxes done, getting healthier and more.
The seasonal job I landed in December ended up netting me less than $100, and I didn`t make the cut to ongoing part-time. Realistically I`ve got to get out of the house to do anything productive, but I keep telling myself I just need today at home to psych myself up, to catch up on sleep, whatever. And up until the other day - and even then, because of my dad`s girlfriend virtually physically leading me through it - I hadnt done a single thing to move forward on my years` overdue taxes, the bane of my existence for years and the potential fatal stress to my marriage.
On the other hand, days and weeks themselves seem to be agonizingly long, largely because I keep staying at home by myself.
I know being alone is dangerous to addicts (hungry, angry, lonely and tired are the big triggers from AA I believe) and from the last month I`d say definitely with depression too. Being alone leaves me alone with my thoughts, which all too often circle back to my failures, my losses, what a bad guy I am, when my wife is going to tell me it`s over, or (worse for me, better for her) that she`s met a guy that gives her happiness and pampering, not stress and dissappointment...a.k.a. generally feeling sorry for myself.
`Can`t you channel that anger or sadness into being productive?`my friends or family often ask. Obviously not. I wish.
What I can do is relapse, back to the self-medication approach. To my credit, not only have I stayed away from the crack and Oxy (albeit with help from methadone), but I`ve only had a couple of drinks, and a handful of days of smoking, since the new year. But what I have done is snort my way through my last prescription of Wellbutrin, and counteract it with my month supply of Clonazepam, in a matter of days. Next time will be different, I mean it this time...
I keep telling myself that I just need a bit more time, a bit more rest, or that tomorrow will be the day I start working as soon as I get up. Time`s up, and something`s got to change. Some I know and I just keep putting off; some I think I know but simply can`t accept; some I guess I just don`t have a clue.
Hopefully this blog will help me find the answers.
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