The Fight of a Lifetime
Trauma + Addiction
This post is going to get a little “therapy-ee”. Look up Internal Family Systems for more Info.
Internal Family Systems (IFS) in short, is a way of understanding human behaviour. It’s also a modality of psychotherapy. IFS assumes we all have ‘parts’ of us; a part of me really wants to quit drinking, and a part is scared to give up booze forever. Both can be and are true, and are different aspects of me, or parts of me. IFS also assumes that we can listen to these parts of us and when we do, they will give us information about why they hold different ideas. Ex. The part of me that really wants to quit drinking says, “I want to be healthy, I want to start saving more money, and I really don’t like what alcohol does to me”. The part of me that is scared to quit says “I don’t know what life is like when we don’t have some sort of crutch. So many things in our life involve alcohol. Quitting the booze feels like that will involve a lot of change, and the unknown is scary.” So when I take this theory and apply it to my drinking and more specifically the question of why did I drink 6 beers yesterday and buy a pack of cigarettes?
· Is it parts? Or is it deeper than parts?
o Part and fears, biology and dependency.
· How come I can't moderate? I'm so good at understanding why something happened and when I look inside and ask, who drank the beer?
o Yesterday the grass needed cut. This is a long activity; I have a lot of grass. Typically, I grab a beer (usually a few), put my headphones in and go. So, I start thinking about cutting the grass and I hear, “We don’t know what it’s like to do new things, what if we cut the grass and it was boring without the beer, and if we don’t get it now, it's going to be so annoying to have to go out and get again”. I decide it's okay to get a couple (6) beers. With the decision to get the beer (for the sake of cutting the grass), the cigarettes were an easy fold. It’s just one day, and if I'm going to drink, why make it harder on yourself, just smoke too. It's just one day. And all the parts that know that’s usually not the case are silenced. But I can still feel them, close to the surface, hoping this time is different.
· There are 2 narratives here:
o I fucked up, I drank the beer, I'm so ashamed of myself, I can't ever do this right, I'm suck a loser, I'm not strong enough. This is one loud narrative that my inner critic (that loud shaming voice you hear in your head – I call mine my inner critic) holds and I can feel that part jabbing me in the heart with its sharp words. This triggers other parts that feel like a failure, and feel like never get things right. I can feel their sadness and desperation. I tell them I know how hard this is and that I can feel their pain and sorrow. I let the critic know I can hear how badly it wants things to be different, and I wish this was easier on everyone. I feel the critic soften; this feels different. They feel seen. The critic apologizes for being so mean, and say they want out of this cycle (drinking) and want to get life perfect and right; the drinking is not making that easier. So, the critic just yells and criticizes hoping someone will hear and listen and change will occur. That usually doesn’t happen. As I sit with the sense of criticism, I become aware that the critic is always criticizing, and holding that energy. That part doesn’t have any other strategy to try and shift the system or get it's point across. It has to criticize me. I send that part deep gratitude for taking on such a hard role in my system. I invite that part to rest, to set down the role of critic and rest. In this moment we are not drinking, there is not booze in the house. I want the critic to experience rest. It tentatively does.
o The other narrative is, and I can feel parts clinging to this, but I can also feel the truth in it. I drank 4 times in September. Probably 20 beers in total. There were nights when I would drink close to that many beers (yes, one night). No drinks were consumed the night before I had to work. No part of my month was negatively impacted by the drinking (I likely would have been more productive, but I didn’t avoid anything, etc.), and it didn’t lead to a binge that lasted days. Now, as I'm typing this I hear a part say “so you think you’re healed?”. No, definitely not. Do I wish I didn’t drink at all in September? Yes. I imagine that would feel fantastic; it always feels good to accomplish something hard. But, should I sit in shame and beat myself up (even though a part of me really thinks this is helpful) because I fucked up? Because I didn’t get it right?
o I was told recently that many folks with addictions have perfectionist tendencies. This tracks. Wanting everything to go as perfectly as planned. Even addiction and sobriety.
o So today I am holding both narratives, the part that doesn’t want me to forget that I fucked up. Thank you, Critic! And the narrative with a bigger perspective as well.
Sending Love and Gratitude to the ether and anyone reading this and following me,
May you feel grounded from the earth below and supported from the spirit above,
Continue fighting the fight of a lifetime
The Messy Queer
