Sunday, February 20, 2022
Cruel To Be Kind
“He
that refuseth instruction despiseth his own soul: but he that heareth reproof
getteth understanding.”
Proverbs 15:32
“If you
can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”
In theory,
it sounds good, but, within the context of addiction, it’s trickier. Sometimes,
we absolutely need to hear the un-nice
things, because they are true and potentially lifesaving.
My personal
experience with all things disordered eating has given me that lesson numerous
times. A first significant instance involved my college roommates.
As a
freshman, my focus was an anorexic one. The goal was to get as thin as I
possibly could.
So, severe
restriction and exercise were implemented daily. My roommates witnessed me
drinking diet shakes, not eating in front of them and pedaling for hours,
pre-dawn, on my exercise bike. During that first year of college, they didn’t
comment much on these activities. It was almost amusing to them. Quirky me,
doing quirky things. I paid my rent on time and didn’t annoy their boyfriends.
So, all was well.
Sophomore
year, however, was dramatically different. Bulimia overtook my anorexic
tendencies and I quickly lost all of my prized self-control. Ravenous, not just
physically, but also emotionally, I was desperate to self-soothe. And forbidden
foods I had once sworn off seemed to be the perfect means of finding comfort.
Unfortunately, I did not stop at my food. I eventually moved over into my
roommates’ food as well, stealing from their cupboard and refrigerator space.
Nothing would stop me from eating. Nothing.
It didn’t
take too long before their stolen food was noticed and missed. I remember at
least two major interventions in which they confronted me.
One of those
instances also pulled in the college social worker. Sitting around a conference
table, no one was pulling any punches. They laid out all of my troubling
behavior: stealing food, rummaging through garbage cans and dumpsters, extreme
binging/exercising.
“...As my roommates questioned me
about their missing food, I thought ‘A-ha! See, that is all you care about. You
don’t care about me at all.’ I was beyond seeing the big picture. Anyone
reaching out to me was an enemy I needed protection from. I didn’t realize that
these people were aching to help me but feeling helpless. They didn’t know how
to deal with my problem any better than I did. To handle the confrontations, I
convinced myself I was still in control and played it all off...”
(Excerpt from Cruse’s “Thin Enough:
My Spiritual Journey of the Living Death of an Eating Disorder”)
“... a
scorner heareth not rebuke.”
Our
uncontrolled responses impact others. The addict, however, doesn’t want to
admit to that or accept that, because a major element of that “impact” is hurt, pure, damaging hurt.
“A mocker
resents correction; he will not consult the wise.”
Proverbs 15:12
And so, an
intervention is often inevitable. It is a spiritual force. Indeed, looking a
little closer at that word, is it code for rebuke?
“... a
scorner heareth not rebuke.”
Whether or
not we want to admit it, we, as addicts, function in that role of scorner. We
scorn anyone and anything that does not agree with our addictive behaviors.
So, of
course, if any of us addicts are caught in an intervention situation, we are
most likely uncooperative and resistant. We, as addicts, aren’t interested in
being corrected. We, as addicts, are interested in our addictions.
“I must be cruel only to be kind.”
Act 3, Scene 4, “Hamlet”
Without
giving any spoilers, let’s just say William Shakespeare’s Hamlet confronts his
mother over a disturbing issue. He uses this very language to convey his deep
distress in this “intervention.” We’ve all heard the adage, “the truth hurts.”
This applies to us all, Shakespeare or no Shakespeare, addiction or no
addiction, intervention or no intervention.
“Hear
instruction, and be wise, and refuse it not.”
No matter who we
are, we are ALL in need of correction.
But when
addiction enters the scene, this reality is further amplified. Sometimes, it IS
a matter of life and death. A lot of us have seen- and personally been on the
receiving end- of this correction, via the device known as the intervention.
That means
hurtful truth must come forth. That means cruel, hard to hear things must be
said for the greater, kinder good, like saving our lives and families. And that
means, none of it will “tickle our feelings.”
“Now
no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless
afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are
exercised thereby.”
And, because
most of us are far too tickled by our own addictions, there isn’t much
motivation to heed the cruel in the name of kind interventions. We’d rather
just be addicts- and not change anything.
What is the
“cruel” thing which keeps encountering us? Is it coming from a spouse, a
sibling, a parent, a child, a friend? Is it the thing we do everything within
our power to avoid and silence? But, if we heeded what was said, would it
salvage something within our lives, beyond our much-loved addictions?
We owe it to
ourselves to be kind to ourselves and consider the spirit of the intervention
and its words as they keep confronting us.
To ignore
any of our unpleasant truth is to
inflict the ultimate cruelty upon ourselves.
Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse
Thursday, February 17, 2022
The Judas Addiction
“...‘Judas, betrayest... with a kiss?’”
Judas evokes betrayal. And, it wasn’t
too long before I saw addiction itself within this Judas figure.
Scripture
tells us a great deal about the infamous man and his downfall. Who knows
exactly what motivated him? Greed? Fear? Misguided intentions? Regardless of
what it was, he seemed to be driven to follow this addictive mindset.
So,
perhaps, the cycle of addiction is not too far removed from Judas.
“Then Satan entered Judas, called
Iscariot, one of the Twelve...”
There
has been debate as to whether or not he was demonically possessed.
But
Luke
22:3, nevertheless, speaks to a powerful force which overtakes his
humanity. And I see similarities as we struggle with our own “demons.” Addiction
is all-consuming. It inhabits the soul of its host: the mind, the will and the
emotion. It includes...
- Frustration
and internal pain that leads to anxiety and a demand for relief of these
symptoms
- Fantasizing
about using alcohol and drugs or behaviors to relieve the uncomfortable
symptoms
- Obsessing
about using drugs and alcohol and how his or her life will be after the
use of substances*
Like
Judas, we fantasize, obsess and create unrealistic expectations of solution and
perfect lives, often tied to that addiction as the answer.
- Engaging
in the addictive activity, such as using substances to gain relief (acting
out)
- Losing
control over the behavior*
So
the next behaviors, employed to attain those results, aren’t too surprising.
“And Judas went to the
chief priests and the officers of the temple guard and discussed with them how
he might betray Jesus. They
were delighted and agreed to give him money.
Judas,
as supposedly one of the beloved disciples, seems to act out of character toward
his much-loved friend.
“He
consented, and watched for an opportunity to hand Jesus over to them when no
crowd was present.”
He
is compelled to arrange for and execute a questionable plan. And, it comes to a
head under cover of night in the garden of Gethsemane.
“While he was still speaking a crowd came up, and the man
who was called Judas, one of the Twelve, was leading them...”
Luke 22: 47
What
follows is the infamous betrayal kiss...
“...He approached Jesus to kiss him.”
Luke 22: 47
And the disturbing,
famous response TO it…
“...‘Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with
a kiss?’”
We aren’t
privy to Judas’ immediate reaction to that question. But we do see some
disturbed responses recorded later.
“When
Judas, who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with
remorse and returned the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the
elders. ‘I have sinned... for I have betrayed innocent blood.’
‘What
is that to us?’ they replied. ‘That’s your responsibility.’
So
Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged
himself.
Matthew 27:3-10
“Seized with
remorse?” Much like the addict in addiction…
- Developing
feelings of remorse, guilt and shame, which lead to feelings of
dissatisfaction*
Check out Acts 1:18-19 if
you want even more gruesome details.
Judas displays the
guilt and shame he feels by his attempts to return the money and “undo” the
betrayal. But, it was useless; the damage was done.
And, further contributing to
the ugliness, the addict and Judas also have this in common: desperate broken
promises which contribute to more self-destruction.
·
Making
a promise or resolve to oneself to stop the behavior or substance use*
“‘I
have sinned... for I have betrayed innocent blood...’
So
Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged
himself.
Matthew 27:4-5
“I have sinned” is the
addict equivalent to saying, “I’m sorry” or, in recovery language, to “make
amends.”
It may be a well-intentioned
gesture. Still, while making it, there is no guarantee it will be accepted and all
negative consequences reversed. The damage, to some extent, has been done.
Here is a critical juncture we
see in both Judas and the addict: desperate actions, fueled by hopelessness-
even including that of a death wish mentality.
No, not every addict commits
suicide. Nevertheless, the self-destructive mindset can be difficult for the
individual to eradicate. For many, there has existed a desire for obliteration,
to passively commit suicide by “giving up,” by his/her resignation to despair
and apathy.
The death wish, one can
argue, is automatically built into the addiction. Brain chemistry, perhaps, plays
its own strong, ever-risky, part in that state of mind.
“…Individuals with naturally low levels of dopamine
are susceptible to substance abuse because (they)... cause an abnormally large surge
in dopamine levels, activating the pleasure response... the brain will become
exhausted by the surges of dopamine and begin producing less and less of its
own as a result. This chemical response... produces physical dependency... to
the now exacerbated dopamine deficiency...”
“5 Ways You Are Physiologically Predisposed
for Addiction,” “Behavioral Health, Science and Nature” by Dane O'Leary; www.rehabs.com
And that leads to the
following...
After
a period of time, the pain returns, and the addict begins to experience the
fantasies of using substances again...*
The phrase, “vicious cycle”
springs to mind.
Would Judas have chosen life
over suicide, only later to have eventually fallen back into self-destructive
choices? There is no way of knowing for sure.
And, similarly, for the addict,
there is no way of predicting how someone will handle future decisions,
including recovery.
It is a gamble. After all, for
many of us, “relapse is part of recovery.”
Yet, realistically embracing
this fragility can be its own helpful tool.
And this is, perhaps, the
lesson we can learn, a lesson Judas did not choose to accept: forgiveness-
even, of oneself.
“And when ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have ought against any: that your
Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.”
It’s
not a license to flounder in disease; it is grace applied to its complex reality.
Each
of us has that vulnerability, one which compels us to use, exploit, betray or
destroy. We have all been our own worst Judas. And we have extended that
betrayer outside of ourselves as well.
Addiction
is a spiritual issue, beyond religion. It is a persistent, multi-faceted
challenge, calling to our attention the deeper issues of life, health and
faith.
And
betrayal of spirit, mind and body is a possibility in these issues.
The
old adage proclaims, “The application of knowledge is power.”
This
may not be the kind of knowledge we wish to learn or apply. But this sobriety,
this Judas awareness, all the same, needs to be in conjunction with our
recovery programs.
For
we addicts know, all too well, just how we can betray with our addict kiss.
*“Cycle of Addiction,” www.recoveryconnection.com
Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse
Screws Fall Out
In a scene from the 1980s popular culture classic, “The
Breakfast Club,” the troubled kid character of John Bender, while in detention,
makes the statement: “Screws fall out. The world is an imperfect place.”
Any perfectionist breaking out in hives at that statement?
Screws fall out. Indeed, for those of us perfectionists, a
crest-fallen countenance seems to be the inevitable response to pesky reality.
So, why do we have such a screwy reaction to
imperfection? Well, here are a few theories.
“I’m Scared.”
Hello, control issues.
It’s all about what makes us feel safe.
There’s nothing like fear to hijack everything in our
lives, while demanding we stay perfectly safe. Perfectly safe. Meaning,
being im-perfectly safe is not acceptable or allowed.
We apply it to our relationships and to our circumstances.
We long for a particular person to be our rescuer. We want
someone to silence pain and rid us of the monster. We want someone to make it
safe foe us to love and be loved, without us doing any personal work or
individual heavy lifting of personal issues.
We, likewise, desire and expect that our environments,
achievements, and our personal appearances will reflect back “all is well.” We are
good enough. We are going to remain good enough and we will never
be in jeopardy of chaos, change, instability, or danger.
The job, the home, the car, the kids, the public image all
must preserve and protect our fragile egos. The sense of self may, indeed,
shatter without that perfectly safe, perfectly kept, little world
of ours.
Why?
Again, because we are scared.
The screws must not fall out in life. The world must not
be an imperfect place.
“I Want To Be Right.”
When we’re not swamped with being terrified, we, perhaps,
demand to be right.
We demand it of ourselves. We demand it from others.
Whereas safety may be a delicious appetizer for many of us,
vindication for being made wrong may, in fact, be the yummy main course. It can
promise us that revenge fantasies will favor our side of things. This is especially
the case if we have come from abuse and bullying experiences.
In relationships, that may look like seeing our abuser or
bully get his/her comeuppance.
Maybe we see their utter ruin unfolding before our eyes.
Maybe they are on their knees and they grovel an “I’m sorry. You were right. I
was wrong.”
In circumstances, we, perhaps, can dangerously skirt a sense
of entitlement.
We may assert, “Well, I was horribly treated by this
scenario. Therefore, I deserve to get my way now, be my own boss, have
power over someone else.”
Too extreme and dark, you say? Incapable of seeing yourself that
petty?
Well, to that, I offer a commonly trotted out phrase, “Hurt
people hurt people.”
Yeah, I know.
But before your corneas get stuck to the top of your head
from the violent eye roll here, it is completely realistic to recognize
how people can often negatively act out from a place of personal
disempowerment. A childhood bully often bullies other kids because he is
tormented by his parents and/or siblings at home. An abuser often hits his/her
spouse because that’s what he/she learned as acceptable family behavior
as a child.
Violence, inequity, and mistreatment are all the painful norm
in many of our lives.
Day in, day out, that is excruciating, until, perhaps,
like the 1970s movie, “Network,” we reach a saturation point and declare at the
top of our spirits and our personal mantras…
“I’m mad as Hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!”
No, no, no! Screws are most certainly NOT going to fall out
any longer! The world and my life MUST be perfect!
I want REVENGE to MAKE it so!
“I Want Worth.”
Many of us who struggle with perfectionistic tendencies can
do so because we view perfection as equal to worth/value. And, yes, some of us
can tip over to an extreme perspective that, conversely, imperfection equals worthlessness.
Hello, self-esteem and core beliefs territory.
It often shows up, then, in our desperate attempts to gain
our (already inherent, nothing can change that reality) self-worth through the
external of other relationships with people. We can get sucked into the mindset
that we are only as valuable as our associations with others. As long as we are
someone else’s boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, friend, business
associate, club member, etcetera, then all is well. Screws are intact. Life is
as it should be.
And this, likewise, can also extend to circumstances. If
there is no upsetting change to the crafted world we have set up for ourselves,
again, all is well. Life is good. If we continue to have that job, that
house, that status, that image, that comfort zone, that good health, etcetera,
then we can be lulled into the false sense of security that it will always
be this way and we will always be and stay this safe, because, yes,
we have, indeed, crafted it that way.
Oh, great! Now, suddenly we have taken on the role of
Omnipotent Deity for ourselves! What could possibly go wrong with
that?
So, screws had better not fall out, huh? The world had better
not be an imperfect place, huh? God (us) demands that not happen!
Wonderful, oh, so flexible AND realistic!
Acceptance: “Screws fall out.”
“…Grant me the
serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.”
“The Serenity
Prayer,” Karl Paul Reinhold Niebuhr, American theologian
Job loss.
The end of a relationship.
Death.
A cancer diagnosis.
Covid-19.
How’s that for some unwieldy screws
popping out of place, all over the place?
Most of us, especially those of us in recovery
programs, are familiar with The Serenity Prayer. It’s a prayer about
responsibility and possessing realistic expectations from life, for our
lives.
It’s an anti-perfection prayer.
And no matter what our religion or belief
system, it would probably do us ALL some good to pray more that way.
“Really?” (You, my fellow Perfectionist, ask this
question, don’t you? I can hear you getting uncomfortable at the thought of it
just now).
And yes, the answer is yes. Yes,
we probably should worry less about perfection… and concentrate more on
the living progress, complete with mistakes, relapses, and messy change. Daily.
Hourly. Minute by minute, second by second, even.
This is the screwy stuff of life. Relationships
and circumstances are not predictable, certainly not perfect. We are not predictable
or perfect. It can all change, often, without warning, without the comforting
head’s up so many of us would like to have.
A pandemic occupying our lives currently makes
that even more apparent.
Acceptance does not necessarily mean being
giddy about something. We can accept a person, a circumstance, a personal quirk
about ourselves, and we don’t need to be ecstatically happy or thrilled
about that reality. We can, from an imperfect, and hopefully, loving,
place, settle into a more peaceful, “it is what it is” kind of mentality.
And “It is what it is” will not feel perfect either.
It will be and feel what it will be and feel to
us.
And that, even, will be subject to
change.
LIFE is change.
Life is a bunch of screws that fall out of
place. And, maybe, by doing so, create life events that fall INTO place for us.
Is it perfect?
No.
Is it valuable and tailor-made for you and me?
Yes.
Therefore, enjoy, or at least, accept the state
of your screws, whatever they may be.
Copyright © 2022 by
Sheryle Cruse
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