A response to Another Discharge Lesson:My first thought when reading this post was that sometimes all we need is a little more pain to succeed. I know that for me I had to use a few times after entering my first treatment program, I also needed to experience more pain. I was not serious about staying sober until I was discharged from the farm -which was my 4th time in treatment. At that time I realized that I better shape up because I may burn all my bridges if I didn't and that experience caused me to dive head first into Alcoholics Anonymous. Maybe in this case it wasn't that treatment wasn't the answer but simply just a case of needing more pain. I'll never claim to know for sure but just an idea.
My response:Thanks for your thoughts. This response may go well beyond what you said or thought, but just bear with me.
I think most of us find that some kind of "motivational crisis" was critical in our achieving recovery. For a lot of us it's anxiety triggered by pain. This is probably more true for younger "high bottom" addicts. However, as Bill White points out, a lot of our clients have experienced pain that I can't imagine--they don't need to hit bottom, they're living on the bottom. If pain was the gateway to recovery we'd all recover eventually. Why some people get it and others don't is a question that doesn't have any easy answers and, in many ways, is less and less clear the longer I'm sober and the longer I work in the field. (I spent a lot of time over the years thinking that I just wanted it more, I was more willing, I decided that I had suffered enough, etc.)
I think that we need to be careful to avoid thinking that our clients need to suffer their way into recovery. I've seen and engaged in more troubling (un)professional conduct than I care to think about. All justified by thinking that addicts learn through consequences and pain, and that they "just need to make a decision." It took me years to recognize that, if it just takes a decision, we're not really powerless. I really drifted into a criminal justice or moral mentality that our clients were selfish, self-indulgent, short-sighted, etc., and just needed to be good. I thought that my value as a recovering person was that you "can't bullshit a bull shitter." In assuming that posture, I sacrificed the true value of being a recovering counselor--the ability to empathize with the shame, fear and isolation my clients were feeling.
Here's something from Bill White on the subject:
What the addiction counselor knows that other service professionals do not is the very soul of the addicted — their terrifying fear of insanity, the shame of their wretchedness, their guilt over drug-induced sins of omission and commission, their desperate struggle to sustain their personhood, their need to avoid the psychological and social taint of addiction, and their hypervigilant search for the slightest trace of condescension, contempt or hostility in the posture, eyes or voice of the professed helper.
The relationships between the addiction counselor and his/her clients have much in common with other therapeutic disciplines, but there are qualitative differences. Addiction counseling has had a greater respect for the power of unseen forces in the recovery process, particularly processes of sudden, transformative change (see Miller & C'de Baca, 2001). The field has also had a sustained interest in stages of change processes (see Wallace, 1974). Studies of addiction have generated the models of change that have are now being applied to many other problems (Prochaska, DiClimente, & Norcross, 1992). One also finds interesting areas of emphasis in the addiction treatment world that are less visible in other disciplines, e.g., the value of catalytic, sense-making metaphors; the importance of narrative reconstruction of personal identity and interpersonal relationships (via story reformulation and storytelling); positive and culturally nuanced reframing of abstinence; and a deep appreciation for paradox ( e.g., strength coming out of weakness, winning by admitting defeat).
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If there is a therapeutic stance most unique to addiction counseling, it is perhaps the virtue of humility. Alcoholics and addicts have long possessed ingenious ways of instilling such humility in therapists who saw themselves in control of the therapeutic process. While seasoned addiction counselors muster the best science-based interventions, they do so with an awareness that recovery often comes from forces and relationships outside the client and outside the therapeutic relationship. It is in this perspective that the addiction counselor sees himself or herself as much a witness of this recovery process as its facilitator. In the end, the job of the addictions counselor is to find resources within and beyond the client (and the counselor) that can tip the scales from addiction to recovery. To witness (and be present within) that process of transformation is the most sacred thing in the field, and what would most need to be rediscovered if the field collapsed today.