No Addiction without Lies, No Recovery without Honesty

Last week, we went to an AA meeting and because there was a newcomer in the room, the topic was the first step. I love first step meetings. They help keep everything fresh for me. Those of us who have been in recovery for a while need to be reminded where we came from and why we don’t want to go back there. It’s also an opportunity for us to offer our experience, strength, and hope to other alcoholics.

At the meeting, as we all shared our stories of what it was like, what happened, and what it’s like now, one of the themes that kept coming up was honesty and how important it is to a successful recovery. We’re told in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous that recovery “demands rigorous honesty,” which is a practice that is sorely lacking during active addiction.

Lying is a way of life for most addicts. It was for me. I lied about my drinking to try and minimize its severity. I lied to try and keep up appearances, to avoid rejection, and to tamp down my guilt and shame. But we don’t just lie to others, we also lie to ourselves. For a long time, I lied to myself about my alcoholism and my drunken behavior because it was a reality that was just too painful to face. Lying, just like drinking, was a coping mechanism that I used to be able to deal with my life. At the time, I just didn’t know any other way to cope.

Then, when the pain of drinking got to be worse than the pain of trying to change and get sober, I learned that I had to be rigorously honest if I wanted true recovery. And I did want recovery. However, I didn’t want to be rigorously honest, to myself or anyone else. I knew when I went to treatment for the first time in 2011 that I would have to talk about things that I didn’t want to if I wanted to get better. So, I did share a lot in my group and individual therapy sessions and my 12-step work. But looking back, I wasn’t rigorously honest. I spoke about the things that I wanted to and held back the rest. I was completely honest about the things I chose to share, but by not sharing those darker things, the things that caused the guilt and shame that I would drink over, I was really setting myself up for failure.

And, guess what? I did fail. I relapsed and went back to treatment at the end of 2012. I was finally ready to lay all my cards on the table and be honest about the things that I had still been keeping a secret. I poured everything out to my therapist and got the help that I needed to begin working through it. I think that was the real beginning of recovery for me. It was the time that I was “willing to go to any lengths” to get and stay sober, as the Big Book says.

It isn’t just while getting sober that rigorous honesty is important, it’s important in staying sober as well. It requires that we are honest in all our affairs – and that means things big and small. Lying, even small lies, can keep us trapped in old behaviors. Being truthful, to others and ourselves, helps us stay the path. That means being honest about thoughts and feelings even when it would be easier to lie.

In recovery, I sometimes find myself sidestepping the truth when it comes to talking about how I feel or what’s going on in my head. Especially when it’s something that I don’t even want to think about myself. I’m better about it than I used to be, but I’m definitely still a work in progress. Fortunately, my husband can read me like a book, and he’s good at getting me to talk about things honestly and openly. Being honest and open with him requires me to be honest and open with myself first. And that self-awareness helps keep me from spinning out, which I know can lead me back to drinking.

Without honesty, I know there is no recovery (or maybe only the white-knuckling, dry drunk type of recovery that is in no way fulfilling) for me. It isn’t always easy, but through rigorous honesty, I get to continue progressing in my recovery, and I’m trustworthy enough to help others with theirs. That is what true recovery is, and while rigorous honesty is just one part of it, it’s an important one.

So, the next time you’re about to tell a little white lie, or you’re denying the way you truly feel about something, to yourself or others, stop and think about it first. Consider the consequences. If you’re in recovery yourself, then you know how quickly lies can snowball. Is your little white lie worth the consequences? Is it worth putting your recovery at risk?

It isn’t for me.

I’m so glad that we went to that meeting last week, and that the discussion was about the first step and rigorous honesty. It was a reminder that I need to hear and think about over and over again. I’m going to keep on doing my best to stay self-aware, practice rigorous honesty with myself and others, and keep growing in my recovery.

Why Do We Self-Sabotage in Recovery?

Self-sabotage in addiction recovery is common.

Being in recovery for the last ten years has taught me a lot about myself and other recovering addicts. While we’re all unique individuals with different, often dysfunctional, histories, we also have a lot in common. One of the most common similarities that I’ve seen time and time again is our ability to self-sabotage.

Addiction itself is a form of self-sabotage. When we’re in our active addictions, we depend on our drug of choice to help us escape dealing with life’s issues, which usually leads to bigger problems and more devastating consequences. Active addiction is self-destructive, isolating, and it destroys everyone who is caught in the wake of the disease. Yet, we often go back to it over and over. I know I have. Even after nearly seven years sober, I relapsed last year, reverting to old coping methods that I knew didn’t work.

Why do we do this? I think there’s a simple reason for this complicated behavior. Even though it’s so destructive and chaotic, self-sabotaging feels comfortable, familiar, like wrapping ourselves in warm security blankets, even in recovery. It’s what we’ve always done – it’s what we know. And even worse, it’s what we think we deserve. In active addiction, we feel like the pain, guilt, shame, and negative consequences are warranted. We deserve to lose our progress, our relationships, our dignity, our sanity because we’re not worth anything better. Unfortunately, that way of thinking doesn’t just go away when we get sober. It takes time. And it takes vigilance to not let it sneak back into the soundtracks of our lives.

I think there are numerous reasons that we self-sabotage our recoveries. Some that we may not even realize until much later. I’m certainly not professing to know all the answers, I’m speaking from my own experiences and from what I’ve learned from others in recovery about the art of self-sabotage. That said, these are some of the most common reasons that I think we undermine our recoveries:

Inability to cope with excessive stress. When I was in active alcoholism, the only coping skill I had was to check out of my life by drinking to the point of blacking out. Since then, I’ve learned how to deal with stressful times more effectively, but I’m still no expert. It’s easy to fall back into old behaviors when life gets really rough, and if I’m not paying attention, that can lead me to some dark places.

Guilt and shame. My drinking made me a different person, someone who was unrecognizable to me and to the people who knew me. My behavior created so much guilt and shame in me that I thought I would never be able to let go of my past. Fortunately, working the 12 steps of AA helped me work through a lot of it, especially steps 4 and 9. In step 4, we take a personal moral inventory of ourselves and in step 9, we clean up our side of the street. Through those actions, and God’s grace and mercy, I’ve been able to forgive myself for many of the bad things I did and said. Not all of them by any means. It’s a process, and it takes time.

Fear of missing out. We see booze everywhere; it’s ubiquitous and it’s usually associated with having a good time. It’s no wonder that there have been times, especially in my early sobriety, when I romanticized drinking and all the “fun” that goes with it. Why can everyone else drink and enjoy themselves and I can’t? Well, it’s because when I do, bad things will happen. Just like when someone with diabetes eats too much sugar, bad things will happen. There is nothing romantic about ending up passed out beside a dumpster at Circle K after a night of drinking. I have to “play the tape to the end,” as they say in the program, remembering what happens when I drink.

Stuffing emotions. Oh boy. I am a champion at stuffing emotions and finding distractions to keep myself from feeling them. Of course, my main strategy to stop feeling used to be drinking. Nothing stops an uncomfortable emotion like a couple (or twelve) shots of tequila. The thing is those negative emotions will still be there when the booze wears off, and so will whatever additional messes I created by drinking. When I was in rehab, I remember that my therapist told me, “Your emotions won’t kill you, but your alcoholism will.” That was pretty eye-opening at the time. These days, after much therapy, I am better about sitting with my emotions, talking about them, and working my way through them instead of around them. I do still use distraction sometimes when I’m uncomfortable with my emotions (I’m a TV show binge-watching ninja), but they’re healthier distractions, and I don’t wait as long to get back to what’s bothering me and deal with it.

Low self-worth. There’s no doubt about it, when I drank, I felt like I was smarter, prettier, funnier, and more outgoing than my quiet, sober self. Of course, I know that isn’t true, but booze gave me the self-confidence that I’m pretty sure I was born without. Liquid courage, I’m sure you’ve heard it called, and I had it when I was drinking. When I got into recovery though, I no longer had that artificial boost that I needed to feel like I was interesting or worthy of anyone’s time, and that’s a lonely place to be. That feeling of low self-worth led me back to the bottle many times when I was first trying to get sober. Now that I’ve been in recovery for a while, I do feel better about myself a lot of the time. When I don’t, I can turn to my husband, my friends in recovery, and God for encouragement.

Addiction is a dangerous disease without us adding to it with self-sabotage. But our ability to make things worse is huge, in active addiction as well as in recovery. In both, self-sabotage starts the same way, with destructive thinking patterns. That thinking, left unaddressed, leads to self-destructive behavior, and then it’s only time before we are masters of the art of self-sabotage.

When we get into recovery, we have to recognize the importance of working with a new medium. We need the willingness to try new techniques that are unfamiliar and uncomfortable for us. We need the confidence to use new, healthy tools that paint a whole different picture. And we need the courage to see the canvas as it really is. True recovery means that we have to embrace the art of self-awareness and leave self-sabotage in the past where it belongs.