“How long does recovery take?”
“So… how long does it take to recover from addiction?”
I heard this question the other day and my mind automatically went to this interview Russell Brand did with Oprah. Homie’s been clean for about 11 or 12 years now. And when Oprah asks him when the last time was that he wanted to use, he says, “Right before I came in here!”
It’s a beautiful, albeit vague, answer to the question being asked.
(Along with the rest of the interview, which I can’t find online. But click the pic below for a snippet.)
What it demonstrates, in all its honesty, is that thing no one likes to hear:
There’s no ending point in addiction recovery.
From here on out, it’s management. Why? Because you’ve kicked a habit with deep emotional and chemical ties. It’s changed your brain. That habit’s in there for life. But before that makes you anxious and afraid, hear me out. Because, while that sounds gloomy ‘n pessimistic, it’s actually not. People overcome bad habits all the time. It’s just that not all of them admit they’re addicted to something. Addicted to junk food. Addicted to filmed fornication. Addicted to eating chalk. (Hey, that’s a real thing – I saw it on “My Strange Addiction.”) And how about those people you know who can’t quit eating the artery clogging slop or popping prescription meds – even though it’s all killing them? The people who tell themselves it’s okay ’cause it’s “legal”. In a way, if you’re in recovery, the only difference between you and a good percentage of the population is that 1.) Your addiction may have been illegal, and 2.) You’re actually acknowledging – and trying to fix – it.
Which is fantastic because – once you acknowledge it – you understand why managing this intrinsic madness is so crucial. The thing is, the turmoil soil from which your fixation flowered in the first place… is still there once you rip the rotten plant from the roots. It must be dealt with. For months, years, or however long – you’ve stamped in the habit of feeding that pain euphoria. Even if you never go back to drugs, this proclivity (which remains) can ruin your life in a host of other ways. We tend to avoid unpleasantness of reality by seeking out pleasant avoidance activities. In my early clean time, I remember binges on food, movies, and self abuse in all forms serving as a fantastic way to circumvent the shame I felt about not doing all the tasks I couldn’t handle. Or was too afraid to. If I couldn’t write enough articles or felt too anxious to attend a meeting, feeding into cyclic fixations mitigated my guilt about it. Recovery programs – good ones – point out this avoidance. They help us laugh at the absurdity of it. Then, they help us break down that snowball of daunting to-do’s we’ve been putting off so that we can tackle ’em.
One day at a time.
In other words, the potential to relapse is always there. It’s a habit stamped into to your brain, so recovery’s forever. But it does get easier. If you diligently manage it. How? Well, by keeping around a clan of fellow recoverers who’ve been at it for a while. (Even if you don’t show up every damned day to a meeting, having a textable network proves super helpful – for both you and your buddies.) And by stamping in some new habits – healthy replacement routines. And that’s where some hope comes in for those wanting a specific timeline. While there’s no finish line, there is this thing called neuroplasticity. Something that takes roughly 30 to 90 days. (Which’s why you see those tags awarded for those first crucial few months.) It’s this thing where your brain forms new networks as you practice new habits. Whether you’re playing the piano or studying “How To Handle Reality For Dummies” (which, I bet is an actual book), it’s been proven:
Anything you take time doing, your brain’s indelibly inking in as a habit.
So, it would make good sense that supplanting your old routine of freebasing for free therapy (with people who give a shiz and aren’t just getting paid to help you) would be an excellent way to avoid recidivism. As mentioned – it usually take 30 to 90 days to stop feeling like a foreign chore that’s painful and vexing and up for discussion. Three months in, if you’ve stuck it out (“it” being your new routine of “how to human properly”, built in recovery), then it becomes a bit more organic feeling. Something you just do. A new facet of your personality.
And why do you hafta keep doing it? Much like that Scientific American study showed with rats – if you turn off a newly acquired habit, former ones resume. This is why you’ll hear some’ve the more gossipy members throw shade at other members’ behavior, saying stuff like “My sponsee’s doing everything wrong except relapsing on crack…” ’cause, shizzy as it is to ridicule others when you should focus on yourself, we all know there’s a lot more to recovery than getting clean. Eliminating the drug’s just the first step. Fertilizing the soil for a new ‘n improved orchard of self actualization is the rest.
Thus, while this is for life – that only has to be a bad thing if you choose to view it that way. Maybe you’re the only addict you know outside of the rooms of recovery. And that makes you feel a bit lonely. But lemme ask you this. How many “normal” people do you know who’ve got a bad back or bum knee or the like from something dumb they did skiing or skateboarding or whatever? Something they have to do exercises for every day to manage the pain? This is no different. You had a genetic tendency (arguably) toward addiction. You picked up a substance. It led to addiction. That’s just a fact – part of your reality now – just like your buddy’s bad back he’s gotta wake up early and stretch every A.M. Whether or not you brought it on yourself’s irrelevant. The point is, it’s here now. And when you think of it as just another malady you manage to make your make your days easier – then it’s also easier to handle tackling another day. And that’s all you need to do. Focus on your new habit for the next 24 hours. And, while you do, remember that the fact that it’s not shameful doesn’t mean you have to talk about it outside the rooms. I mean, would you carp about your hemorrhoids to randos? Constipation? A yeast infection? No. Some things we wait to share with the right audience.
And I’d highly (unhighly, rather) suggest finding that audience ASAP. Because they’re the ones who are gonna help you get on recovery road and see you through. It’s far easier to not let those lonelier, more isolating aspects of addiction consume you and drive you into relapse if you have other people by your side, telling you they’ve gone through the same. That they have a day by day handle on it. And that their ongoing shame sagas are every bit as comically preposterous as yours.
There’s a connection in that camaraderie which little else can fulfill.
So, how long’s recovery take?
It takes today, friend.
Now come back and ask me again tomorrow, if you forget.