russell brand

Russell Brand’s reason for using is probably the same as yours – and mine

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“Why did you first use drugs?”

Those of us in recovery’ve probably asked ourselves this a thousand times over. (And even that’s an underestimate for some) It’s not an inquiry that’s foreign to most of us. We anxiously search our souls for the answer. We review the cringe-worthy memory reel of all the hurt we’ve been through – and caused – while using. It’s overwhelming. And the answer feels so convoluted and complex and extensive, that we’ve difficulty boiling it down to a brief explanation. But, when asked this in a recent interview, Russell Brand, the revolutionary, next-level, eloquent comedian with nearly 15 years clean from meth and heroin, replied simply:

“Pain.”

Yeah. It’s that simple, isn’t it?

We were in pain. Maybe it was physical. Or maybe it was spiritual. Maybe a drug was the chemical Bacitracin to some psychological scar. Whatever it might be, the problem remains: too many of us don’t identify the innumerable permutations of pain early enough – much less talk about or work them out so that they can become powerless over us. The result? The reverse happens. We can’t sort them out – so they come to control us. The reasons for that are many. Maybe we don’t have an appropriate outlet in which to do that. Maybe we aren’t given the opportunity. Or we don’t feel safe opening up. Thus, it festers – well into adulthood. We feel any number of manifestations of it, that bubble up from upset sentiments. And, because we don’t get to vent – however briefly – as a catharsis, they build until an outburst erupts. Maybe that outburst is a fit of rage. (Anyone else have to replace the pitched kitchen dishware as quickly as you purchase it? No? Just Hulk-mode me?) Maybe it’s binge eating. Maybe it’s drinking or taking drugs. For an active addict, adhering to even the most benign of these things is a dangerous answer. It’s cyclic and it makes using inevitable. And, the same holds true for those of us already recovering. We may have distance from active addiction, but ignoring our pain leads us further and further away from the life renovation we’re working daily to achieve.

The good news?

There’re heaps of ways to counter this descending spiral. For some’ve us, it’s meeting with a counselor. For others, it’s talking to a sponsor. For some, it’s doing a 12 step meeting and leaving right after the serenity prayer. And, TBH, I’ve tried a li’l bit of each. But, for me, I’ve come to find a simple but life saving tool to be fantastic – especially when there’s no one to turn to. In the wee hours when there’s no one but me to hear it – sometimes this trick’s my vice averting savior.

And all it is, is this practice called “labeling”.

Okay, maybe not necessarily with a pencil.

Rather, whenever a negative sentiment arises, all we’ve gotta do is simply say what we’re feeling – out loud. (Yes, it sounds cheesy, but bear with me here.) See, from “I have a mood obliterating headache” to “I’m admittedly a bit butthurt over that internet comment”, this is a completely underrated way of stopping our harmful feelings in their tracks. So, why’s this work? Because we have no idea what an inimical trigger (and the subsequent, attempted denial of its existence) can do to us. Most of us don’t, anyway. We try to convince ourselves it’s not a big deal. By doing this instead, however, it creates space between us and our gut reactions to stuff. In other words, it’s a reminder that we’re not the feeling we feel. So we don’t have to act on it negatively. We don’t have to give into the behavior we usually would at the first indication of an unfavorable stimulus. And, while it’s indeed helpful to do alone, it’s even better if we’re part of an addiction recovery group – or simply seeking help one-on-one from a professional mender of minds. Sharing authentic emotions out loud to someone – feeling understood by someone who can relate – not only helps us feel heard, but it also aids in us potentially finding the right way to handle the problem, without pouring a layer of chemical concrete over it.

In sum, honoring our less than stellar feelings doesn’t mean we have to wallow in them. Much the contrary. It’s a way to pull them over in our cognitive cop car, ID them, give them a ticket for causing a ruckus, and send them on their way. And it’s best to do that early as possible. Because that’s when they’re still as simple, yet less general than Russell’s “pain” explanation. That way we can catch these small fires and put ‘em out – before they can morph into behemoth juggernauts, begging for malevolent palliatives that only drive us deeper into this insidious disease.

And, with that, my friend, I ask:

Have you named your pain today?

Go on. List it below, if you like. And let your community come to your aid.

Moderation Management: Like AA, except less sober.

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One of my favorite scenes in “Arthur” was his initial incognito AA visit.

“I’m here because I’d like to drink less…” he says to the group.

Although (much like the majestic man playing him) Arthur would come to realize “less” wasn’t sufficient, some people do. This was a tough concept for me to comprehend initially. Could some alcoholics cut back? Did that make them not-really-alcoholics? And – more importantly – how do you know? I suppose it’s a trial and error thing. When you come right down to it, terms like “alcoholic” and “addict” are just words. You could call yourself a “compulsive pornography enthusiast”, but if you’re doing it till you’re power gets cut and you lose your job, guess what? You’re a smut junkie. So the answer is to do some deep introspection and see for yourself by applying your theory to reality. You try to cut back, and you either do alright or fall back into old habits. But what if the latter happens? Does that mean you can’t manage it – and must abstain? Maybe. Or maybe you just need the ears of others who’ve got the same proclivity. This is what Moderation Management (cute in it’s double abbreviation, like AA) seeks to do. Much like the abstinence based programs, they don’t seek dues or fees, they let people share, have a few steps of their own for you to follow, and encourage helping one another. Unlike abstinence based programs, however, there’s none of the – ya know – abstinence. Instead, they suggest toning down the imbibing to mayhaps three or four times a week. Per their site:

Moderation Management (MM) is a behavioral change program and national support group network for people concerned about their drinking and who desire to make positive lifestyle changes. MM empowers individuals to accept personal responsibility for choosing and maintaining their own path, whether moderation or abstinence. MM promotes early self-recognition of risky drinking behavior, when moderate drinking is a more easily achievable goal. MM is run by lay members who came to the organization to resolve personal issues and stayed to help others.

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I like the way he puts this – for all you know, you may realize you’re not an alcoholic or addict after all and find exactly what you need in MM. In argument on behalf of those 12 step meetings, though, I will say that you’re never prescribed a lifetime of anything. You come to realize that all you’ve got when it comes to decision making is ahora. The present. Right now. That’s where the whole “one day at a time” thing comes in.

So, I remain open-minded about it. (It’s part of my program to be, so I don’t have a choice.) That is, I’m open-minded to the idea that it might work really well for some. (Tough for me to concede, since I tend to be self centered and assume my way’s the only way.) In fact, there’re copious testimonials about how the tools MM offers seem to work well. Honestly, it might even work for someone like me. It might. But I know from a historical review that I personally might as well load one bullet in a chamber, press it to my temple, and try to fire away along with my firewater. That might seem dramatic – and it is. The disparity between my mindset above versus under the influence of anything mind altering is indeed nada short of dramatic. But that doesn’t mean it won’t work for you, if you’re realizing you’re having a few issues moderating but can’t conceive of a life sans booze. All of it rests on whether – once you get honest with yourself – you identify as someone who has enough of a challenge moderating that you shouldn’t drink altogether. And you know what? You don’t have to decide that alone. I say, if you’re struggling, try out either group. Because the most important thing isn’t just about whether you’re mostly sober or totally abstinent, but what’s driving you to carry on as you are. And the crucial thing – when you’ve got a compulsion adversely affecting your life – is to get out there and talk to others who “get it”, have been there, and can possibly help you realize just what caliber of liquor swigger you are. Who knows. Maybe MM’s exactly where you need to be.

Or maybe, like Arthur, you’ll realize it’s time to tweak your formerly blithe view on this vice and try the other fellowship.


(#WrongMovie #SimilarEnoughStoryline)

But the first step of any program isn’t written on the opening literature.

The first step’s attending any meeting at all.

So mayhaps start there.

Moderation Management: Like AA, except less sober

Leave a Comment

One of my favorite scenes in “Arthur” was his initial incognito AA visit.

“I’m here because I’d like to drink less…” he says to the group.

Although (much like the majestic man playing him) Arthur would come to realize “less” wasn’t sufficient, for some, it is. This was a tough concept for me to comprehend initially. Could some alcoholics cut back? Did that make them not-really-alcoholics? And – more importantly – how do you know? I suppose it’s a trial and error thing. When you come right down to it, terms like “alcoholic” and “addict” are just words. You could call yourself a “compulsive pornography enthusiast”, but if your hitting the faptop till your power gets cut and you lose your job, then guess what, my friend? You’re a smut junkie. Same goes for any obsession. So, one might suggest some deep introspection about it and applying your theory to reality. You try to cut back, and you either do alright or fall back into old habits. But what if the latter happens? Does that mean you can’t manage it – and must abstain? Maybe. Or maybe you just need the ears of others who’ve got the same proclivity. This is what Moderation Management (cute in it’s double abbreviation, like AA) seeks to do. Much like the abstinence based programs, they don’t seek dues or fees, they let people share, have a steps of their own (about nine, I believe) for you to follow, and encourage helping one another. Unlike abstinence based programs, however, there’s none of the – ya know – abstinence. Instead, they suggest toning down the imbibing to mayhaps three or four times a week. And if you wanna abstain, then you can do that too. Per their site:

Moderation Management (MM) is a behavioral change program and national support group network for people concerned about their drinking and who desire to make positive lifestyle changes. MM empowers individuals to accept personal responsibility for choosing and maintaining their own path, whether moderation or abstinence. MM promotes early self-recognition of risky drinking behavior, when moderate drinking is a more easily achievable goal. MM is run by lay members who came to the organization to resolve personal issues and stayed to help others.

I like the way he puts this – for all you know, you may realize you’re not an alcoholic or addict after all and find exactly what you need by learning how to cut back. In argument on behalf of those 12 step meetings, though, I will say that you’re never prescribed a lifetime of anything. You come to realize that all you’ve got when it comes to decision making is ahora. The present. Right now. That’s where the whole “one day at a time” thing comes in.

So, I remain open-minded about it. (It’s part of my program to be, so I don’t have a choice.) That is, I’m open-minded to the idea that moderating might work really well for some. In fact, there’re copious testimonials about how the tools MM offers seem to work well. Honestly, it might even work for someone like me. It might. But I know from a historical review that I personally might as well load one bullet in a chamber, press it to my temple, and try to fire away along with my firewater. That might seem dramatic – and it is. The disparity between my mindset above versus under the influence of anything mind altering is indeed nada short of dramatic. But that doesn’t mean it won’t work for you, if you’re realizing you’re having a few issues moderating but can’t conceive of a life sans booze. All of it rests on whether – once you get honest with yourself – you identify as someone who has enough of a challenge moderating that you shouldn’t drink altogether. And you know what? You don’t have to decide that alone. I say, if you’re struggling, try out either group. Because the most important thing isn’t just about whether you’re mostly sober or totally abstinent, but what’s driving you to carry on as you are. And the crucial thing – when you’ve got a compulsion adversely affecting your life – is to get out there and talk to others who “get it”, have been there, and can possibly help you realize just what caliber of liquor swigger you are. Who knows. Maybe cutting back will be enough.

Or maybe, like Arthur, you’ll see it’s time to get serious about your formerly blithe view on this vice.


(#WrongMovie #SimilarEnoughStoryline)

But the first step of any program isn’t listed in the twelve or nine.

The first step’s attending any kind of group. At all.