Today I want to talk a bit about the stereotypes we hold of someone who has an addiction, and about challenging them, and about perhaps opening our hearts to the addict or alcoholic who still suffers.
So, like, until I went to treatment, I didn't even think I was an alcoholic, because I for real didn't even meet my own stereotype of what an alcoholic or a drug addict was. I wasn't homeless, I'd never been in prison or even arrested. I didn't prostitute myself for drugs, nor did I ever deal them. I wasn't stealing from my family. I fudging had my shiz together, get me? I mean, but there WAS the fact that I rarely left my home - or even my bedroom while in my addiction - and being a mama, wife, sister, daughter, writer, and equestrian - all the things I identified with that brought my happiness and pride - were completely bulldozed and buried while I ran full-tilt to an early death found at the end of an empty bottle - but never you mind I had just popped twelve perc 10's and a handful of klonopin washed down my throat with some whisky. I wasn't homeless! I wore cardigans and designer jeans and pleated capris - DRUG ADDICTS DON'T WEAR DESIGNER JEANS! I will drink this fudging vodka in my fudging pleated capris and I will not feel fudging ashamed, because I don't have a fudging problem! My wardrobe somehow protects me from the label of drug addict or alcoholic!? -----Yeah okay Brie, you keep doing those mental gymnastics to make you feel less alcoholic-y.
*Eye roll.*
So, yeah, spoiler alert - I am an alcoholic and a drug addict. I wear LuLuLemon and carry my blind shih tzu around in a cute tote bag, mostly just because I can. And I am just as much a bottom of the barrel, almost lost my life and everything I hold dear to an addiction as any other addict who has ever prostituted themselves or used needles or whatever. I was engaging in extremely risky and dangerous behavior as well; I simply tried to hide it in different ways.
Chances are, and I'll literally bet you a million dollars on this - unless you're a hermit who only talks to their great aunt every month, begging for some social security money - that you absolutely, no doubt about it, have a neighbor, coworker, friend, sibling, child, soulmate...who is an addict. We live among you, in the dark, entrenched in the longest, deepest night we have ever endured. We are afraid of your light - it seems too bright, too perfect - we don't want to dirty you. We fear your resentments and judgments you'll have if you hear how much we are struggling - we fear your eye rolls, or your dismissive retorts. We know that our addictions are glaring in the light of day, but please, share some of your light with us. We need you. We need to know that there is a warm, hopeful morning ahead of this dark, dreary, horrific night we are enduring. We know we are the worst. We are screw ups. We are maddening. We just can't get it right.
In real life, we don't expect a party - hell, we don't deserve one. We know we have hurt you, and your hurts are valid, and we need to hear them, and we need to work hard and work long to repair the damage we've caused in our relationships with you. But please, let us know that there is still hope for us. Send us a note, telling us you're thinking of us. Ask us to go to treatment. Love us even when it hurts. Because we need you. We need your light to pierce the dark corners of our addiction.
When I started this blog, and "came out" about my drug and alcohol addiction, by far, the most emails or texts or comments I've received were "I didn't know! You hid it so well!" We hide it because we are ashamed. We also hide ourselves, too. None of you knew because I didn't want you to know. At least, I thought I didn't want you to know. It got to the point where all I really knew was that I couldn't do this anymore. I was either going to accidentally take a toxic combination of pills and alcohol and be gone, or dammit, I was going to get clean and get help, because my life was so dark, and I needed a warm sunrise. I needed strong arms around me, and I needed to know I wasn't so far gone that God was done with me.
I learned that God was never done with me - and that in my sobriety, He is doing for me what I can't do for myself - sobriety is the best party gift ever that this prodigal daughter has ever received. We addicts and alcoholics CAN get and stay clean, even if we've gone to rehab or tried to get clean 3,847 times - well okay then, support and love us through our 3,848th time. Because THAT could be the time we do it - and then, it will have all been worth it! Because we'll be out in the light, with you, and we can then share our light to those still lost in the darkness. Some of us might be doing this wearing our pleated capris and cardigans while toting around our adorable blind doggos, (ahem...) and some of us may be spreading their light while wearing, like, sweat pants. Or...no pants. If, it like, works for you? We are CEO's of fortune 500's, and we are spending life sentences in prison. We wake up every morning and we go to sleep every night. We are among you, everywhere. We are all the prodigals, returning home. And everywhere, all over the world, we are celebrating. Join us! It's gonna be a killer party.
