Disheartened

When you really care about someone with a mental health issue or an addiction, and sometimes both, life is a constant series of ups and downs. In some ways not dissimilar to normal life only greatly magnified.

“Disheartened” is a word I find very descriptive and powerful. When I say the word, I can actually feel the weight of its meaning.

The dictionary tells us it means a loss of confidence and determination. It’s first cousin, “dispirited” takes it deeper, it means the loss of enthusiasm and hope. It is incredibly draining: physically, mentally, emotionally and even spiritually. In fact, it is one of the toughest issues you face if you love someone with a co-occurring addiction and mental health issues.

After we discovered that Lauren was facing an addiction battle, we immediately sent her to a residential treatment in Connecticut. She never completed the program, she was released early due to complications with her weight. We begged them to let her stay, she begged them to let her stay, I even offered to sign a document releasing them from all liability. It was a last-ditch desperate attempt to buy her more time not using drugs.

I was very disappointed about what had happened as we were driving home. I told Lauren how proud I was of her for staying and trying hard. I encouraged her to keep building on the progress she made. At that moment she was over 25 days drug free. The truth is after  25 days much of the physical element of addiction is diminished, by that I mean your body does not need the drug anymore, but addiction is so much more than a physical problem. The very thing many people harp on when someone they love is addicted, “Why can’t you just stop”, is what defines a person as addicted. The most complete definition of addiction I have found is “Addiction is a bio-psycho-social disorder which demonstrates itself in any behavior that a person enjoys or finds relief in and therefore craves in the short term. This behavior results in negative consequences in the long term, yet the individual doesn’t give up the behavior despite the negative consequences.” For reasons scientists, counselors, and every loved one of the addicted are trying to figure out, the pull of heroin is like the dangerous creatures of Greek mythology (Greek singular: Σειρήν Seirēn; Greek plural: Σειρῆνες Seirēnes) found in “The Odyssey” and “Jason and the Argonauts”, who lured nearby sailors with their enchanting music and singing voices to shipwreck and their death. After her death I learned that this had been the only time in the past several years that Lauren had actually been drug free.

When we got home Lauren started attending twelve step meetings and entered an IOP (Intense Outpatient Program) in Stratford, CT.. We thought she was doing well, but she wasn’t. Shortly after she started, on a Tuesday night, we received a call that Lauren had overdosed while attending the program. As I pressed the end call button on the phone, I could feel everything: all hope, all compassion, all energy drain from me. Nereida and I drove to the hospital completely numb. We were angry, hurt, afraid and very confused. In that moment we didn’t realize that there would be many more drives to hospitals ahead of us. We wept in the darkness as we drove.

Rightfully so, that program refused to allow Lauren back. They were concerned for the safety of other clients, we understood the importance of that. Thankfully Lauren did enter an IOP (Intense Outpatient Program) at Griffin Hospital in Derby CT which was a higher level of treatment, she did complete it. I believe in the 90 days LaLa was in the Griffin IOP, she experienced the longest periods of sobriety in the previous four years of her life, it wasn’t the whole 90 days but it was progress.

I wish I could give you some simple answer to how we survived the constant emotional roller coaster of many more events like this. A big piece for us is our faith and experience of trying to follow and serve Jesus, it’s who we are. Another was an underlying drive to not give up on her, we knew she needed us, desperately. We were perhaps the last positive influencers she had in her life. I believe there were a few of her friends that were positive influencers as well.

At one of the family sessions we attended at the Griffin IOP, I had shared how, in the event of a lapse, I would try as soon as possible to help Lauren see that although we were not pleased with her actions, we believed in her, we wanted her to get the help she needed. A young man that was present stopped me and asked me to explain that. I could see in his question that he must have had someone in his life that had given up on him, someone that obviously mattered to him. His question centered around the fact that he was about to graduate the program, but he knew this person’s actions would not motivate him but drag him down. As much as it hurts, as hard as it is to do, we never want to be that person. We want to be the one that says, “Come on, let’s try again, you can do this.” Honestly, you may be the only one like that in their lives.

I know there is a lot of talk today about tough love, and letting them hit rock bottom, and I guess, when that works it is wonderful, but what happens when it doesn’t work?  What about the parents whose daughter left their home a year ago? What happens when they get a knock on the door and are told we found your little girl dead in an abandoned building? How do they live with that?

What about the dad who refuses to talk with his son? What happens when his son accidentally overdoses? How come we never hear anyone talking about those stories?

In his book “Terry”, George McGovern tells the story of how he lost his daughter to alcoholism. In one section he shares a part of a letter Terry sent to her mom shortly before she died.

“I truly cannot believe I’ve let myself stay sick for so long. It’s been 4 years relapsing—pulling my life apart and damaging the spirits of those I love most. I wonder if I can ever really have a full life knowing my children and I have lost precious time and not knowing what time I will be allowed now. I’m so sad mom. Please pray for Marian, Colleen and me to be reunited. I want to be a daughter to you and dad—not a source of worry, anger and sorrow. I want to be a sister to my brother and sisters. I’ve played around with my recovery—somehow unable to grasp how serious it is, how much suffering it has caused me and others.” Terry McGovern

I think Terry accurately reflects the hearts of most people suffering with an addiction. They don’t want to hurt you, they simply can’t win the fight alone. One thing her father said towards the end of the book has always stayed with me.

“We had only a few brief telephone conversations with Terry during the next few weeks, hoping that our maintaining a certain distance might prompt her to confront her alcohol dependence. But her drinking problem steadily worsened during this period from mid-July to mid-December. There has not been a day since Terry’s death that I have not anguished over our decision. I regret every phone call not made, every letter not written, every missed opportunity to be with her and to share her pain.” George McGovern

Don’t give up on the person you love so much. Be the one that still believes. By all means hold them accountable, be hard on the addiction, but don’t push them away. If you do you may never get the chance to tell them you love them one more time, and they need to hear it.

This weeks featured image is called “Broken Legs” by Brooke Shaden