Grief is the Twin Sister of Addiction

When we deal with loss, we begin to grow

Our feelings are complicated.

As family members or as close friends of someone who struggles with addiction, we, too, feel pain.

We are baffled by the fact that our loved one won’t stop even though his life is being torn apart by the choices he is making. Are they choices? Or is he compelled and controlled by something bigger than he is?

In some ways, the person we once knew appears to have died. Appears being the operative word.

Those who have a quick and easy answer for solving the problem of addiction, have not felt the hand of the illness strip away the very lifeblood from someone they love or they would not judge.

Grief and the disease of alcoholism and addiction are inexplicably intertwined. Daily we are reminded of dreams that are dashed and there is absolutely nothing we can do to change the trajectory of events in our loved one’s life.

We watch the disease ravage the lives of our loved ones physically, emotionally and spiritually. And, if we do not take very good care of ourselves, the same will happen to us.

The thing is, if I don’t grieve, and spend my days walking around pissed off, I miss the best this life has to offer. For me, I have to feel it and move through it, not around it.

Much of the process of healing is counterintuitive. If we want to be healthy, we let go. We focus on ourselves. We draw boundaries with as much love as we can muster.

What makes things doubly hard is that we live in a culture that vilifies. It is accepted, even encouraged, to talk about alcoholism and addiction with anger. How could she do that to me? What gives him the right to destroy himself this way? Why don’t they just stop using?

In addition, it is very common to hear the judgment of families who deal with the illness of addiction. The message is often, “How foolish! Why do they allow her to take advantage of them that way? What do they expect?”

Outsiders to the disease blame and point fingers at the addict and her family as though there is some way that loved ones can control the behavior of the addicted one.

But grief?

Grief is the lynchpin that holds all the other feelings together. Yet grief takes a back seat to many other emotions.

One book that addresses the loss and grief connected to addiction is called Opening Our Hearts: Transforming Our Losses, a text created by Alanon Family Groups.

I joined five other friends and we read and discussed the book, chapter by chapter. Our process was simple. We read a chapter, paused for some silent reflection, then shared our thoughts. Each session lasted one hour. No more. No less. We did this until we completed the book.

We discussed the gift of detachment. We talked about living with alcoholism and addiction. We share our feelings about coping with all the various losses that came hand in hand with addiction. We gave each other permission to feel and the freedom to express those feelings. And nothing was new to any of us. There is a lot of comfort in not being alone.

We verbalized the loss of dreams we had for our loved ones and for ourselves in relation to them.

We identified the pain and confusion we feel when we see how some folks make it through while others don’t.

We took a look at what was floating around inside our hearts and minds, suspending all judgment.

Most importantly, we talked about how to take care of ourselves as we walked this difficult path. As we shared experience, strength and hope, we carried one another and took the next right step.

There is incredible healing in being heard and seen.

By facing our losses honestly, we discover resilience- not despite our loss, but because of it. Irony, for sure.

My greatest takeaway was learning that my ego needed to be checked at the door. I did not have the psychic power to predict what would happen to anyone, not myself, and not my loved one.

Therein lies the hope for recovery. When I give up my ego and surrender to a power greater than myself, I open myself to healing.

This has been a very long road, that’s for sure.

As I write this, my loved one is healing in ways that are miraculous. I never would have predicted the healing that is taking place. All of it, out of my control. Just for today, I am very, very grateful.

That does not erase the losses that have occurred. But focusing on what is past is futile. My job is to stay here, right here, right now.

I’m learning that accepting that one fact gives me freedom to live my own life. Just for today, I will remember, I am not in charge.