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When confronting issues of substance use,
professional opinions as to what constitutes use, abuse, or
dependency, as well as notions of prevention, often compete
with the ideas of individuals and families, and those of the
culture at large. Recently, a client who proclaimed himself
an addict looking to abstain from drugs, asserted: “ I wanna’
quit drugs, I just wanna’ drink from now on.” The
misconception that drugs exclude alcohol is an example of a
distorted but all too pervasive belief. Similarly, clients
often believe that the consequences of drug use are confined
to the period of intoxication, and do not extend beyond that
time. As therapists working with such clients, we must
confront these distorted belief systems before we can
clarify treatment goals. In this article, I will discuss
some important ideas pertaining to substance use, and
present interventions that are substantive and practical.
Distorted Beliefs about Addiction
Inverted notions about risk-taking:
Our beliefs can help us or they can mislead us. Negative
beliefs about self, for example, can form the psychological
fuel of an escalating substance dependency. Conversely, a
positive self-image can inspire self-care. But in the
inverted universe of substance abuse, definitions/ideas of
positive self-image and positive self-care are turned upside
down. For example, when speaking to adolescents, I often
comment that an emotional and behavioral change that occurs
relatively early in drug use is that of increased
risk-taking and impulsivity. Drugs are dangerous, I add, not
to mention illegal and largely forbidden. There is generally
a respectful agreement on this point, but I also note when
my clients seem unmoved. After all, I can see them thinking,
risk-taking is manly, risk-taking is good. The willingness
to take risks garners esteem within a peer group and creates
a false sense of heroism within the young person. This twist
of thinking has significant implications; under social
pressure, what we commonly think of as self-destructive
risk-taking is perceived by our adolescent clients as
courageous. How can we “coopt” the positive value attached
to risk-taking and turn it right side up again? I believe
that the key lies in redefining risk in emotional terms: It
takes courage to risk being honest with others, to stand
strong in the face of peer pressure and dare to accept
limitations, protect our safety, and adhere to conventional
behavior.
Negative reinforcement for intoxication:
Drugs are intoxicating because they promise an instant way
to alter our feelings. Seconds, minutes, perhaps an hour, is
all that is necessary to achieve a desired effect, and the
message to our central nervous systems is clear: you do
not have to wait to change how you feel. When asked what
is attractive about the mood and mind-altering experience,
addicts will first give some familiar responses: drugs allow
for dis-inhibition, increase confidence or relaxation, and
create a feeling of elation where there was anxiety before.
But deeper exploration reveals more: As feelings change, so,
too, do the user’s perceptions: responses to stressors are
intensified, confidence turns into entitlement, and the
user, filled with false confidence, misreads social cues and
perceives social approval where there is none.
Withdrawal brings with it even more distorted
thinking. The absence of the intoxicating high feels
punishing to the suffering addict. But what is he being
punished for? For using? Or for not using? For the absence
of the drug in his system, or for its presence? After all,
the best way to eliminate the suffering of withdrawal is
with further intoxication. The addict comes to the wrong
conclusion: he believes he is being punished for not using,
not for using. Onlookers may reinforce these conclusions by
reacting more aversively to the negative effects of
withdrawal than to the negative effects of intoxication.
Consider the logic of what I might term the “they like me
better when I’m high” effect: When intoxicated, a user may
be relaxed, more confident, and more sociable. When not
intoxicated, they may be irritable, complaining, anxious,
and lethargic. Whom do we want to be around?
The “think before you act” fallacy:
Science has come to understand that drug use inhibits
maturity, and that addiction has more to do with biology
than with character. According to a recent article in the
Harvard Mental Health Newsletter: “human brain circuitry
is not mature until the early 20s. Among the last
connections to be fully established are the links between
the prefrontal cortex, seat of judgment and problem solving,
and the emotional centers in the limbic system. These links
are critical for emotional learning and high level
self-regulation.” The implications of this research are that
youth is particularly vulnerable to addiction. Though we may
want them to “think before they act,” research teaches us
that the integration of thinking and feeling, that ability
to distinguish between what we think is important (i.e. a
craving state), and what is really important, is a matter of
development and time. Teenage brains are simply not yet
developed enough to make these distinctions. Drug use then
further inhibits this development, because it undercuts one
of the cornerstone tasks of maturation, namely, the practice
of patience and the tolerance of discomfort.
Social norms are complicit with drug use.
Advertising associates alcohol and tobacco use with sex,
popularity and fun, and creates an environment in which
immediate gratification is a commodity. Society reinforces
the “life lessons” of addiction: the belief that
impulsivity, intense experiences, and quick relief from bad
feelings are the important goals and not dealing with, and
learning from, the ups and downs of life. The sober
experience of life is implicitly devalued, and not using,
not being high or intense, is defined as “square.”
The myth of responsible drinking:
“Drink responsibly,” the ads and commercials warn us.
Although many can and will obey the limits, many others will
struggle, fail, and suffer the consequences – legal,
occupational, relational – that accompany abuse. Still
others cannot even engage in the struggle. Mainstream
society either misunderstands, or plainly rejects, those for
whom the very term “drink responsibly” is a contradiction.
We are still a long way from grasping the notion now
understood by the medical establishment, and best
articulated by the twelve-step community: that for those who
self-identify as addicts, addiction (or dependency) is a
state of being, and not a matter of choice.
The Emotional Work of Recovery
As a result of this thinking, as well as
other misconceptions, what is communicated to the struggling
user is often inappropriate, if not counterproductive:
misguided attempts to control use or narrow goals centered
around the tangible effects (legal, medical, or
occupational) of drug use. “Getting my life under control by
getting my drinking under control” is a potentially
dangerous fallacy. What is missing is an attention to
emotional changes that distort thinking, and ultimately
change relationships. Terry Gorski (in Passages Through
Recovery, 1989) describes a “post acute withdrawal”
phase, a time of emotional and behavioral changes that
lingers twelve to eighteen months into a period of
abstinence. Recovery programs refer to analogous concepts –
“dry drunk” periods, or “white knuckling.” Long after the
last drink has been taken, recovering addicts may have
problems thinking clearly, be prone to irritability and
conflict, sleep restlessly, feel vulnerable and even believe
that they are going crazy.
Many addicts state that a primary goal in
therapy is to regain the trust of their loved ones – parents
and spouses who have become indignant towards their lying,
secrecy, and manipulation. But they often become frustrated
because they fail to recognize that the task of regaining
trust is a reciprocal one. The mental and spiritual aspects
of the disease create a negative relational cycle. The user
lies, the loved one colludes with the lie. The user pretends
they are clean or blames their drug use on others; the loved
one agrees to believe them. The addict says “let me handle
it” or “I’ve got it under control” as a way of avoiding
scrutiny; the loved ones back off. They subscribe to the
myth that the addict can and will control their use. This
denial of reality leads users back into the cycle of use,
and loved ones into despair. Provocative questions to addict
clients often include: “Do you trust them enough to tell
them the truth?”; “Do you trust them enough to allow for
their questions?”– and especially for youth – “Do you trust
them (your parents) enough to accept their limit-setting, to
allow them to parent, and to allow yourself to be a kid?”
The purpose is to reframe the task of regaining trust for
users and their families, because the greater challenge is
not that of users gaining the trust of would-be helpers,
but, rather, that of helpers gaining the trust of users.
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The following is a summary of important messages for substance
users and families:
1) Mental and behavioral effects of drug use are not confined to
an intoxication syndrome.
2) Risk-taking needs to be redefined in emotional terms; the
courage to be honest and accept limitations replacing the false
bravery of self-destructive behavior.
3) The “they like me better when I’m high” effect: When we
confuse the negative effects of intoxication with those of
withdrawal, we unwittingly reinforce drug use.
4) The development of maturity is arrested by regular drug use.
This statement is not a value judgment about a person’s selfhood
but, rather, a truth about biological development.
5) The mental and emotional fallout of addiction continues long
after usage stops.
6) The trust wound between substance users and their families is
a mutual one.
Intervening
in the Addictive Cycle
Some time ago I worked with a father and son who were struggling
to communicate regarding the son’s substance use. The son,
Eddie, 18, had been living with his father, Mike, for two years,
following his parents’ divorce six years earlier. Eddie had
begun using drugs (notably alcohol and marijuana) at age 14, and
exhibiting defiant behaviors at home and at school. After Eddie
completed a ten-week outpatient treatment intervention, father
and son were referred to me for therapy.
Eddie presented as motivated to change his behavior, but was
consumed with anger about his father’s distrust of him. “He
never believes anything I say”, he’d complain, to which the
father would retort, “You don’t give me reason to.” Both Mike
and Eddie agreed that they wanted to regain mutual trust, but
they were locked in a cycle of mutual blame. Mike occasionally
pretended to trust his son in order to de-escalate conflict, but
ended up disillusioned whenever Eddie relapsed. Eddie ended up
guilt-ridden. I asked the father and the son to each take
responsibility for their own thinking, feeling, and solutions
and to set a realistic foundation for the rebuilding of trust.
Eddie and I focused on identifying his problematic thinking, and
redefining his ideas about risk-taking. He was aware of the
risks associated with drug use: Eddie had been both arrested and
suspended from school for intoxication- related offenses. When
asked about the risks associated with sobriety, and the
acceptance of his father’s house rules, he struggled with
feelings of resentment and was unable to imagine how his life
might change for the better. Gradually, Eddie acknowledged the
fears that lay under his resentment: abstaining from drug use
might lead to loneliness and loss of friendships; accepting his
father’s rules meant losing his freedom and the adult image he
craved. On a deeper level, Eddie’s distrust of his father
stemmed from the divorce of six years earlier, when Eddie’s life
was thrust into turmoil, his parents’ needs seemed to take
priority over his own.
In reframing trust-building as a task for Eddie as well as for
his father, I was able to persuade Eddie to accept a series of
agreements that included 1) submitting to urinalysis testing at
his father’s request and 2) accepting material consequences
(withholding of money, for example) whenever he relapsed. Having
good intentions would not mitigate the consequences; if Eddie
reached a “contact high” from someone else’s use, or received a
positive drug test result after unwittingly tasting a drink that
was “spiked,” the consequence would remain the same. When Eddie
bristled: “That’s not fair,” I reminded him that his body and
brain would respond the same to exposure to a drug regardless of
his notions of fairness.
A second series of agreements presented a particular challenge
to Mike. In conjoint therapy, Mike spoke of his feelings of
guilt as a parent. His inconsistent parenting and controlling
tendencies: name-calling, impulsive imposing of consequences,
and distancing interpretations of his son’s behavior (“I think
you use to escape from your feelings!”) masked a deep feeling
that he and his ex-wife had let Eddie down. I suggested to Mike
that he seemed as impulsive and conflicted as his son and that
his behaviors were inadvertently reinforcing his son’s negative
behaviors. I worked with Mike to focus on consistently and
calmly following through on realistic limit setting. Trust could
not be based on an anxious belief in his son’s latest promise,
only to be followed by blame. Father and son were to commit to
eliminate bargaining over the fairness of consequences of the
son’s drug use: the relapse of a friend, the father’s
controlling behavior, or other stressors, could no longer
justify relapse. Further, each committed to seek out separate
support systems for the processing or venting their feelings, so
that they could avoid directing judgments at each other.
These agreements allowed for father and son to understand that
trust is a bond that develops and evolves through ongoing
attention and care, not something to be taken for granted. They
allowed father and son to navigate past mutual blame, and made
space for each to sit with their uncertainty and discomfort –
without resorting to substance use on the part of the son, or
rigidity on the part of the father.
Over the course of therapy, there were relapses on either side.
Eddie often tested his father’s curfews, demands for phone
“check-ins,” and chore assignments; he used drugs on numerous
occasions, and generally manifested his contempt for Mike’s
parenting. Mike gave frequent voice to frustration, often
characterizing his son’s relapses as a form of betrayal. As time
passed, the structure provided by agreements allowed father and
son to explore and change their values, and challenge the
beliefs that perpetuate the cycle of
drug addiction.
Mike and Eddie terminated therapy after about a year. At that
time, Eddie had been clean for 90 days and wanted to focus more
on twelve step work. Mike has sent me Christmas cards the last
three years, and Eddie has contacted me as well. Their
relationship, though not perfect, has improved. Eddie has grown
to see the connection between being truthful and gaining trust
and is invested in truthfulness as a value for himself. Mike is
more willing to take responsibility for his feelings of guilt
and inadequacy, instead of externalizing them or blaming his
son. Ultimately, Eddie moved out of his father’s house. Without
the intensity of cohabitation, Eddie is more able to pursue the
tasks of individuation, and Mike the task of letting go.
References
Gorski, T. (1989) Passages Through Recovery: An Action Plan
for Preventing Relapse. Hazleton: Center City, Minnesota
Miller, M.& Bakalar, JD. “The adolescent brain: Beyond raging
hormones.” The Harvard Mental Health Letter, July 2005,
22(1).
Graeme Daniels is the supervisor of the intern
program at Thunder Road Adolescent Treatment Center, which
specializes in substance abuse issues. He is in private practice
in Pleasant Hill and has worked with adults, adolescents and
families dealing with substance abuse for the past ten years. He
can be reached at (925) 487-5934.
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