A couple days ago I wrote about grief, describing the stigma it carries (though not in so many words). Addiction is another of those awful, scary, ugly, messy, stigma-carrying things, which is also too bad.
As I was scanning the AM radio dial for something interesting during a rare moment alone in the car last week, I caught part of an interview with William Cope Moyers. He was discussing his struggle with addiction. Moyers has co-written a book called Broken; is vice-president of public affairs at Hazelden, a recovery center; and also has a website, at which he hosts a blog.
Moyers is the son of Bill Moyers and a former journalist for CNN. Though he says that he had a happy childhood, a good family, and looked, on the outside, like a respectable person in every way, he privately battled alcohol and drug addiction. His battle went on for many years, and he moved in and out of recovery.
By sharing his story, Moyers is hoping to help remove the social stigma from addiction, which I think is a wonderful thing. Although, I fear that, by nature of the fact that Hazelden is for the very wealthy, and that the senior Moyers is outspoken for many liberal causes, he may cultivate another stigma, or cynicism, in the minds of many. Did privilege and certain philosophies or ways of relating within his own family give rise in part to Moyers' addictions, that he himself may not be aware of? Perhaps. Who knows?
Moyers calls addiction a disease, an illness, to which 10% of the population is genetically predisposed. And this may be true. Yet I strongly believe that addiction, like depression, is also a deeply spiritual affliction. I say this from my own experience and observations, for what they are worth. Please understand, though, that when I say that I would like to see addiction rise above the level of stigma, I am not suggesting that it is respectable. Nor am I saying that one has no responsibility to deal with it, as even Moyers does not. But his, and my, point is that it can affect anyone at all, in any social strata and from any background, and it is not through stigmatizing those who suffer that they may be helped to recover.
I didn't always believe this. I thought that there had to be trauma somewhere in someone's life that led to addictive behavior. Or some terrible, horrible character flaw that only a portion of the population was lucky enough to possess (and of which I was one). But at a Celebrate Recovery meeting last year, I met a retired doctor who had become an alcoholic after retiring from his practice. He told the group that he couldn't think of anything in his background that would've led him to this; he had a happy childhood, a wonderful wife, good kids, and a successful and well-respected career.
But upon retirement, he began drinking socially. One drink led to another, and in his boredom, perhaps, with his life in retirement, and with nothing to replace the work he'd done all his life, he slowly became an alcoholic. This gentleman was the kindest, gentlest, cleanest-cut, intelligent-looking guy you'd ever want to see. He came to the meeting, I think, in part to show some of the "tougher" cases in the room that it's not just the "down-and-outs," the abused, or otherwise socially disregarded who struggle with addiction.
I myself still deal with a tendency toward addictive behavior, a compulsion to assuage strong feelings of dis-ease with something - anything - that I enjoy. I don't think this an altogether unusual thing. Or even a bad thing; it's not always inappropriate to seek something pleasurable in order to cope with pain as long as the pleasure is legitimate. Yet at the same time, a legitimate pleasure can be objectified, reached for impulsively, and looked to monolithically - i.e., relied upon - in a salvific and extremely short-sighted kind of way.
Regarding recovery from addiction, while I don't deny all the body chemistry involved, I do believe that this chemistry can be changed, or at least dealt with, through changed feelings, thoughts, and behaviors. But not mere behavior modification -- changes that come about as a result of spiritual transformation, specifically, a truth-led transformation. "Truth" with both a capital and a small "t". And I believe this not because I read any studies, or because someone I respect said it, but because this was my own personal experience.
I hope that the church will accept that addiction is a common problem that exists in many degrees even among its members, and take steps to address it in a truthful, compassionate, and transforming way.
(William Cope Moyers can be heard in an interview from an October 2006 NPR broadcast of "Fresh Air.")
