Answer Addiction

Tag: stigma

  • Political Ad Takes Shot At Lawyer's Past Addiction, Criminal History

    Political Ad Takes Shot At Lawyer's Past Addiction, Criminal History

    “To be pulled in to a heated political race based on my own story of redemption is really painful,” said Tarra Simmons.

    Tarra Simmons never wanted to be the stuff of campaign fodder. 

    But months after winning her year-long battle to become a lawyer, the former prisoner was surprised to see her name dragged into a state senate race – as a political smear.

    The mailers supporting Republican Marty McClendon, which started showing up on Washington doorsteps this month according to KING-TV, denounced his Democratic opponent for supporting the “drug-addicted ex-con” in her hard-fought efforts to gain admission to the state bar. 

    “Emily Randall has consistently failed to back our law enforcement,” the flyers reportedly said, “yet Randall has supported Tarra Simmons, a drug-addicted ex-con who was denied admission to the Washington State Bar Association due to multiple felony convictions.”

    Simmons, who served time for gun, drug and theft charges, made national headlines last year after the Washington State Bar refused to let her sit for the bar exam, the test needed to become a lawyer. She’d already won a prestigious law fellowship, was a dean’s medal recipient at her law school, launched a non-profit and racked up years of clean time under her belt. But still, the bar said, that wasn’t enough.

    “Her acquired fame has nurtured not integrity and honesty, but a sense of entitlement to privileges and recognition beyond the reach of others,” the Character and Fitness board wrote in 2017. 

    But the Bremerton mom took her case to court, and won, scoring accolades and compliments from the state’s jurists.

    “Simmons has proved by clear and convincing evidence that she is currently of good moral character and fit to practice law,” the Washington Supreme Court wrote in its 33-page opinion. “We affirm this court’s long history of recognizing that one’s past does not dictate one’s future. We therefore unanimously grant her application to sit for the bar exam.”

    But despite the state court’s support, it seems, some political groups still aren’t on board with Simmons’ impressive turnaround – and Simmons took them to task for it in a neatly-worded Facebook post. 

    “Hey 26th District Republicans You left out the part about how the Washington State Supreme Court UNANIMOUSLY put the bar in its place,” she wrote. “I thought the right wingers believed in things like ‘redemption’. You know what? Part of me is happy over this nonsense. Because people only talk about leaders. I’ll take it as a compliment that you thought about me, and I’ll keep leading with truth while y’all sit up here and throw stones at people who’ve done their time and have fought through pain that would make you crumble. I’m proud of Emily Randall because she gets it.”

    The ad in question wasn’t actually paid for by Randall’s opponent. Instead, an outside group, the Washington Forward, The Leadership Council, reportedly funded the flyer.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Clean, Sober And Using Suboxone

    Clean, Sober And Using Suboxone

    Suboxone users deserve a safe space, in and out of the rooms. And we deserve to proudly call ourselves clean and sober.   

    It was pretty apparent when I began taking Vicodin for migraines that I was going to have a problem, but I was too ashamed and afraid to ask for help.

    On the outside, I was a working professional, undergrad student and hands-on mom.

    Beneath the surface I was deteriorating. 

    It wasn’t until my career was in jeopardy and many relationships broken that I finally admitted I was out of control and needed treatment. I learned the hard way: Secrets keep you sick. Addiction grows in the dark. 

    Today, as a nurse in long-term recovery from opiate and alcohol addiction, I’ve made an intentional choice to forgo anonymity and live “Sober Out Loud.” I advocate for everyone in recovery, especially healthcare professionals, using blogging, public speaking, and coaching to do my part to end the stigma.

    My hope is that talking openly will give others the courage to speak up early. That they’ll notice their decline and get help long before their careers and lives are in danger. Choosing to be open about my addiction also supports my healing. I find accountability, connection, and purpose in sharing my experience.

    It wasn’t easy in the beginning – I was terrified of being judged. The opposite has been true – even in the hospital I worked for. Even with colleagues who may have reason to look down on me. I’ve been met with abundant compassion and acceptance. 

    Except I still have one secret. There’s one disquieting fact I haven’t told many people. I’m flooded with fear that I’ll be exiled from the recovery community and excluded from meetings. Petrified that my integrity as a coach and writer will be questioned. And if that’s the case, then what’s my value as a sober advocate?

    There are others who have the same fears, and my silence validates the stigma. Recently, I heard on the radio about a young man who committed suicide. He was tortured by internal conflict; he questioned his sobriety. We share the same secret.

    For that struggling human being, and for everyone else struggling – It’s time for me to be completely open.

    “Hello, my name is Tiffany; I’m an addict and an alcoholic. AND I use Suboxone.”

    This isn’t my opening line when I introduce myself at meetings – nobody has to divulge their prescribed medications to the group, right? The answer’s not so clear if you use Medication Assisted Treatment (MAT).

    On one hand, I feel I shouldn’t have to add a qualifier to the already awkward label I use when attending certain groups. (In the program I regularly go to, we don’t use labels at all, but that’s a subject for another time). On the other hand, it feels like I must add the qualifier, otherwise I’m a fraud. I start spiraling: “Am I allowed to share? What’s my ‘real’ clean date? Can I pick up a chip on my birthday month?”

    In my first month of sobriety, newly on Suboxone, I readily shared at meetings and with a few sober friends. Completely unaware of my disgrace, and totally unprepared for the reactions, I wanted to swallow my words as I was assaulted by:

    “Do you think you’ll be on it long?”

    “You’re going to get off of it soon right?”

    ‘You’re still on an opiate.”

    “You’re still getting high though.”

    “You’re not actually clean yet.”

    “Well you’re definitely not sober. Don’t call yourself sober.”

    “Do what you’re gonna do but don’t talk about it here.”

    “You can’t have a sponsor until you’re done with that.”

    “We all did it without. We didn’t need medication to get clean. You’re obviously not serious – not strong – not determined enough. You haven’t done enough steps. You haven’t gone to enough Meetings.”

    “You’re not sober. Come back when you are.”

    I thought I was sharing success and hope. They asserted I was “cheating the system” and “staying in the game.”

    This inhospitable reception is the reason I’ve stayed silent, the reason I haven’t written about it in my own blog. I found myself avoiding meetings altogether, second-guessing my sobriety; debasing my worth and value in the recovery community. 

    Despite the booming increase in patients using Suboxone, popular opinion – especially in traditional 12-step programs – is that Suboxone treatment and “clean and sober” are mutually exclusive. Regardless of research showing decreased morbidity and mortality of medication-supported patients, and the success addicts are seeing as they put their lives back together, the underlying criticism persists:

    “You’re not CLEAN.” 

    If I’m not “clean” I’m still dirty. If I’m dirty, I must be worthless. And if that’s the case, what’s the point of trying to recover?

    It’s abhorrent that leaders in the recovery community perpetuate the degradation. At a local level, meeting facilitators model this disparaging behavior, despite literature clearly stating that a person’s medication is no one else’s business. (Read The A.A. Member – Medications & Other Drugs).

    Even trusted chemical dependency physicians tout their opinions, adding to the universal disapproval. Dr. Drew Pinsky stated on the podcast “Dopey” episode #124  “I’d rather have them on cannabis.” And though he concedes he’d be open to discussing short-term use with patients to “get them in the door”, he says that Suboxone patients  “replace” other opiates and are merely surviving; that they are “not fully recovered” and “still chronically ill.”

    Still chronically ill? Not fully recovered? In the 3 years since I initiated a Suboxone regimen, I’ve worked tirelessly at making amends. I’ve regained my job as an acute care nurse and clinical instructor in a nursing program. I facilitate Recovery Meetings, and I’ve transformed into a certified Life and Recovery Coach. I’ve repaired relationships with family and friends.  I’m traveling, writing, and above all – finding JOY in living. I’m not an outlier. There’s thousands of us. We’re just not  allowed the safe space to share. 

    MAT is NOT perfect. I’m aware of it’s flaws and have experienced some of them myself. Anyone considering it should carefully review all potential side effects with their physician and trusted, non-biased recovery support. Suboxone causes physical dependence, and there’s severe withdrawal if one quits cold turkey. It is, chemically speaking, an “opiate.”

    Some prescriptions are diverted; I’ve personally cared for patients who admit getting the drug on the street. And with full transparency, I sometimes feel conflicted about using pharmaceuticals to overcome an addiction to pharmaceuticals. I’m not oblivious to the irony. And I strongly assert that any MAT is only truly successful if taken while simultaneously working on recovery of the mind and spirit. 

    But people are dying. We don’t have time to argue over which is the most righteous recovery path.

    After weighing all the pros and cons, searching my soul, and utilizing critical thinking skills I’ve honed in 17 years of working in healthcare, here’s what I’m absolutely sure of:

    Suboxone is right for ME.  I am Clean and Sober. 

    Four years ago I was resigned to being found dead in a bathroom with a needle in my arm. Today, I prove that recovery is possible. I am on a journey toward physical, emotional and mental wellness, and have a quality of life I couldn’t have dreamed up. Suboxone, for now, is a part of my story. As it is for many, in increasing numbers every day.

    Whether I wean off in a month or stay on it forever has no bearing on my credibility.

    It’s likely that someone sitting next to you today in a meeting is on Suboxone. It’s also likely they’re petrified to talk about it, like I was, and might leave the meeting fighting the humiliation of being “unclean.”  

    They might decide that it’s better to go back out and use, since they don’t belong in recovery; or to wean off without a doctor’s supervision, undergoing agonizing withdrawal and back at risk of using street drugs- which is part of my story as well. They might even decide that they don’t belong here – at all. That the only choice is to end their life. 

    What is your role in this? Are you hurting or helping? Consider the language you’re using. Is it pejorative and shame-inducing? Or do you cultivate love and belonging? 

    Those of us in recovery have a responsibility to welcome everyone who is making positive progress towards a sober lifestyle. It’s not our business to take the inventory of someone else’s medication list – it IS our business to eradicate stigma. Offer compassionate acceptance. Keep an open mind. Suboxone users deserve a safe space, in and out of the rooms. And we deserve to proudly call ourselves clean and sober.   

    Next time someone shares with you that they choose to use Suboxone – or any MAT – as part of their journey, don’t criticize. Don’t interrogate or give them a timeline to stop it. Ask how it’s working, and If they’re happy. Ask if they’ve been successful staying off street drugs; if they’ve made strides towards repairing the damage of their past. And when they share with you their clean date, congratulate them on being SOBER. 

    Tiffany Swedeen, RN, BSN, CPC/CPRC is a certified life and recovery coach, She Recovers Designated Coach, and a registered nurse in recovery herself from opioids and alcohol. Tiffany lives “sober out loud”, proudly sharing her story through advocacy and blogging and is passionate about helping others do the same. Her goal is to eradicate shame and empower all to live a life of radical self-love. You can reach Tiffany through her blog www.scrubbedcleanrn.com and follow her @scrubbedcleanrn. 

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Language Matters: A Recovery Scientist Explains the Impact of Our Words

    Language Matters: A Recovery Scientist Explains the Impact of Our Words

    If a person has internalized the negative stereotypes associated with being “an addict,” are they more likely to have a fixed mindset and believe they cannot improve or change?

    Over 21 million Americans have substance use disorder and fewer than 3.8 million individuals receive treatment each year. 28 percent of the individuals who need treatment, but do not receive it, report stigma as a major barrier to accessing care. If we want to destigmatize addiction — a highly stigmatized disorder — then we need a unified language.

    The words we use have been shown by researchers to not only negatively influence our attitudes toward people in recovery and people who use substances — to the extent of suggesting that a health condition is a moral, social, or criminal issue — but they also impact access to health care and recovery outcomes.

    This article isn’t a mandate for everyone to start policing language, but it was motivated by a genuine desire to look at the evidence: how we speak to someone with substance use disorder matters. In the midst of a public health crisis, we can’t dismiss the use of language as just semantics, trivial, or being overly politically correct. We don’t have that luxury when 64,000 Americans die from drug overdoses each year and over 88,000 die from alcohol-related causes.

    Building upon an already existing foundation of work in this field, recovery scientist and researcher Robert Ashford and colleagues conducted a larger study of the general public measuring both implicit and explicit bias elicited by certain common words and phrases, which was published in June. I was fortunate to speak with him about the study, the impact of language, and how we can apply this information to help fight stigma.

    The Fix: Let’s say you’re among peers in recovery and you refer to yourself by a term which your study has shown to be a derogatory, like “addict,” “alcoholic,” or “substance abuser.” How does that contribute towards the stigma those in recovery face?

    Robert Ashford: This is an interesting question, and one from an evidence perspective, we don’t have exact answers on. Anecdotally, we believe that even though it is probable that this type of language has an impact on things like self-stigma, self-esteem, and a sense of self-worth, it is more important that people have the right to label themselves as they choose, especially as it concerns the recovery community. The fact is that the use of pejorative labels has had a decades-long place in popular mutual-aid programs like AA and trying to tell the mutual aid recovery community what to do isn’t a goal, nor should it be in our minds. At the end of the day though, it is important for people in recovery to understand that the use of such labels may become internalized over time, leading to decreases in self-esteem and such. However, without more evidence, it is merely hypothetical at this point.

    In what ways does it impact their lives? For example: their access to, and quality of, healthcare?

    Generally, the use of terms such as “substance abuser,” “addict,” and others have been found to be highly associated with negative attitudes (i.e. bias) in the general public, among behavioral health professionals, and in medical professionals. These negative associations ultimately lead to all types of stigma (social and professional) and ultimately to very explicit discrimination. On a personal level, we know that just over 25% of individuals with a severe substance use disorder don’t seek treatment each year due to the belief that they will be stigmatized or discriminated against by their friends, neighbors, or employers. Additionally, this type of bias has also been found to decrease the willingness and efficacy of medical services delivered to patients that have a severe substance use disorder. Access and the quality of treatment in the United States has many barriers and enhancing those barriers through the use of language is an easy fix – just by changing the way we talk!

    What would be an alternative, less-stigmatizing term?

    Any term that puts the focus on the individual as a human is bound to be less stigmatizing. For example, individuals are not “addicts” or “substance abusers,” but rather, “people with a severe substance use disorder” or a “person who uses substances.” Language changes constantly, but the one commonality in terms of bias and stigma seems to be that when we can restore or focus on the humanity of an individual through our language, we will be speaking from a better place.

    How might that term be more empowering to the individual, and in what ways?

    As a person in recovery, I can speak personally that when using terms that are rooted in humanity, I get a better sense of myself and the conditions that I have either lived with or am living through. Often times when we are in the midst of a severe substance use disorder, faced with a constant barrage of language that is meant to disempower and dehumanize, we began to internalize those labels. While it is possible in certain settings that these terms are used as a reminder of a previous identity – intending to provide some sense of catharsis in the recovery process, or a mechanism for not returning to a previous state – I think it is equally plausible that we can be reminded and have that benefit by using terms that don’t immediately degrade our very essence as people.

    I’m curious how a growth mindset versus a fixed mindset might inform our choices of words? Corollary, how does each mindset inform how we interpret what we hear from others?

    This an interesting question, especially in applying the growth and fixed mindset theories from childhood development and education to the field of substance use and recovery. The theory suggests that those who believe they can improve or change (growth mindset) are more likely to engage in activities that allow them to grow, and those that believe they cannot improve or change (fixed mindset) or less likely to do so. In the context of recovery and substance use, this has immense potential to inform how language truly does impact individuals in or initiating recovery. If a person has internalized the negative stereotypes associated with being “an addict,” are they more likely to have a fixed mindset? While there are surely myriad reasons for the challenges faced by people with a severe substance use disorder, mindset may indeed be a big part of it.

    You’ve done an incredible amount of work in educating both those in recovery and clinicians about the importance of the language we use. Some of your research features infographics about negative language and presents a positive alternative (below). For those who may need further clarification, what is the difference between pharmacotherapy (or medication to treat substance use disorders) and medication-assisted recovery?

    The infographics we made from our results have sure inspired a lot of conversation – which is exactly what we hoped for as scientists! One of the constant topics has been around “medication-assisted treatment,” “pharmacotherapy,” and “medication-assisted recovery.”

    Pharmacotherapy is the use of medications to treat a disorder/disease/ailment – specific to our field, this would imply treating a substance use disorder with medications. The term had significantly more positive associations than a similar term, “medication-assisted treatment” from our tests and we wanted to make the suggestion to use it instead.

    “Medication-assisted recovery” on the other hand can be considered the use of substance use disorder medications, combined with the use of recovery support services such as MARS recovery meetings, engaging with a peer recovery support specialist, utilizing a recovery community organization, or attending a MAR-friendly 12-step meeting. The biggest difference is that not everyone who uses substance use disorder pharmacotherapy wants, or would consider themselves, in recovery. Keeping the two terms separate gives people an option, and from a research prospective, both terms are associated with the positive and their use isn’t likely to elicit implicit bias among the general public.

    Figure: Suggested Recovery dialects


    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Shame, Alcoholism, Stigma, and Suicide

    Shame, Alcoholism, Stigma, and Suicide

    In addiction treatment circles, conventional wisdom suggests we have to let people hit rock bottom before we can help them. But what happens if rock bottom is dying from suicide?

    Historical records as far back as ancient Athens have the underpinnings of the stigmatization of suicide. In 360 BCE, Plato wrote that those who died by suicide “shall be buried alone, and none shall be laid by their side; they shall be buried ingloriously in the borders of the twelve portions the land, in such places as are uncultivated and nameless, and no column or inscription shall mark the place of their interment.” Fast-forward a couple millennia and suicide is still criminalized in many places around the world. In the Western Judeo-Christian tradition, suicide has long been considered the ultimate sin, to such an extent that even the body of a person who died by suicide was legally brutalized and dehumanized. This long history of shaming and penalizing suicide has created deeply seated (mis)beliefs that are engrained in cultural norms. Suicidal ideation is stigmatized, and those who experience such thoughts often suffer in silence.

    Alcoholism (both alcohol use disorder and alcohol dependence) is also highly stigmatized. Past research has found that public attitudes are very poor towards people with substance use disorders (SUD). Across the globe, around 70% of the public believe alcoholics were likely to be violent to others. As recently as 2014, research has found 30% of people think recovery from SUDs is impossible and almost 80% of people would not want to work alongside someone who had or has a substance use disorder.

    Alcohol dependence and alcohol use disorder (AUD) are high on the list of risk factors for suicide. Mood disorders, such as depression, anxiety, and bipolar disorder, are even higher risk factors. What is particularly concerning is that mood disorders frequently go hand in hand with AUDs. Alcohol causes depression, and it can be hard to distinguish whether the alcohol or the depression came first because they feed each other. In his book Alcohol Explained, author William Porter explains, “hangovers cause depression whether you are mentally ill or not…the real cause of it is the chemical imbalance in the brain and body. ”

    People who have alcohol dependence are 60 to 120 times more likely to attempt suicide than people who are not intoxicated and individuals who die as a result of a suicide often have high BAC levels. Alcoholism is positively correlated with an increased risk of suicide and “is a factor in about 30% of all completed suicides.” A 2015 meta-analysis on AUD and suicide found that, across the board, “AUD significantly increases the risk [of] suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, and completed suicide.”

    Suicide attempts with self-inflicted gunshots have an 85% fatality rate. If someone does survive a suicide attempt, over 90 percent of the time they will not die from suicide. That margin of survival gets smaller with alcohol dependence. Being intoxicated increases the likelihood that someone will attempt suicide and use more lethal methods, such as a firearm.

    When a suicide attempt survivor encounters medical professionals, half of the time they will be interacting with someone who has “unfavorable attitudes towards patients presenting with self-harm.” (These statistics have cultural and regional variations.) When a patient with AUD encounters medical professionals, they are also likely to be met with negative perceptions. Myths about AUD and alcohol dependency are pervasive and not even nurses are immune to such prejudice.

    So what improves professional perceptions and treatment outcomes? Education. Training works to dispel myths and reinforce the fact that SUDs are diagnosable conditions that require as much care and attention as any other potentially fatal ailment. Perhaps increased understanding of these conditions and experiences could fuel progress for treating addictions and preventing suicide. Doctors are sometimes at a loss for what to do with alcoholic patients; interestingly, the physicians who had more confidence in their abilities in this area were associated with worse outcomes. Meanwhile, there has been little progress in treatment availability outside of basic peer support groups such as Alcoholics Anonymous.

    Peer support groups do help a lot of people get and stay sober and to live happier and healthier lives: 12-step proponents credit the steps and meetings for saving their lives; many say they were suicidal and that after getting sober they no longer had those thoughts. But while suicidal ideation may go away for some people who receive treatment, it doesn’t work like that for everyone.

    People who are abstinent from drugs and alcohol still die from suicide. In the case of post-traumatic stress disorder, quitting drinking can exacerbate feelings of hopelessness and despair. Continuing to drink may reduce the severity of the symptoms in the very short term, but ultimately “a diagnosis of co-occurring PTSD and alcohol use disorder [is] more detrimental than a diagnosis of PTSD or alcohol use disorder alone.”

    Suicide is a leading cause of death across the world and ranks as the 10th most common cause of death in the United States. For every completed suicide, there are an estimated 25 attempts.

    It’s clear that we must do something to reduce the number of lives lost by suicide. Raising awareness of the relationship between alcohol-dependence and suicide attempts is an important part of the equation. Medical professionals, social workers, law enforcement, employers, and others who are frequently the first point of contact need better training to improve attitudes and fine tune skill sets for taking appropriate action. The public also needs to be armed with information that they can use to help their family and friends who may be at risk for suicide, and in particular what to do if that person has a co-occurring SUD.

    Despite evidence to the contrary (particularly in the case of comorbidity with another mental illness) conventional wisdom in addiction treatment suggests that we have to let people fall to rock bottom before we can help them. But what happens if rock bottom is dying from suicide? It’s true that we can’t force health onto another person, but we also can’t help them if they’re no longer alive. For many people, prior trauma and mental health issues come before addiction. More evidence-based intervention and prevention programs are needed if we hope to make any headway in fighting this epidemic.

    Until that happens, opportunities do exist to help prevent suicide. After Logic released his Grammy winning song titled “1-800-273-8255” (the phone number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline), calls to the Lifeline increased exponentially. There is nothing quite like hearing another human voice offering support and comfort. There is also a growing number of online crisis support services which provide help through live chat and email. These, unlike many crisis phone numbers, are not limited by location. Texting a crisis hotline such as the US Crisis Text Line at 741741 is also an option and can be done with just basic SMS, no data needed.

    If you or someone you know is in immediate danger, call your local emergency number. Find your country’s equivalent to 911 on this wiki page or through The Lifeline Foundation. Find a list of additional suicide prevention resources worldwide on this page.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • More Than One Way to Recover: A Guide of Pathways

    More Than One Way to Recover: A Guide of Pathways

    Regardless of how we achieved recovery, it is our responsibility as members of the recovery community to better inform ourselves (and others) of the other options out there rather than suggesting that our way is the only way.

    We live in a country where 45 million American families are affected by addiction. The statistics are frightening: over 20 million adults have substance use disorder and 17 million people have alcohol use disorder. 64,000 Americans die from drug overdoses each year and over 88,000 die from alcohol related causes. Sadly, less than 10 percent of people suffering with substance use disorder, and less than 7 percent of those with alcohol use disorder, get the help that they need.

    In spite of this public health crisis and the tragic and very preventable deaths, the recovery community is divided in its efforts. While on the one hand we are making great strides by publicly speaking up to put a face and a voice to recovery in order to fight stigma and boost efforts to gain greater resources and access to treatment, there is still some infighting within the community about the best way to recover. If we’re fighting to eliminate the stigma that marks us as “less than” to the general public, we should also be fighting the stigma within our more insular community. How can we effectively tackle this crisis if we’re not helping each other?

    There are many people in 12-step recovery who bicker in online forums and sit in church basements purporting to know the only way to recover and anyone who disagrees must be wrong. I have lost count of the times I’ve heard of someone relapsing or expressing their discomfort with the 12-step program, only to be told that the problem is actually them and their lack of willingness. As evidenced in the Big Book:

    “Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path. Those who do not recover are people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to this simple program, usually men and women who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves.”

    This passage simply isn’t true. According to Zachary Dodes, who co-wrote The Sober Truth: Debunking the Bad Science Behind 12 Step Programs and the Rehab Industry, the success rate of AA is actually somewhere between five and 10 percent, with only one in every 15 people entering the rooms achieving and maintaining sobriety. This is in stark contrast to AA’s self-reported figures in 2007 of 33 percent of members having 10 or more years of sobriety. A 2012 survey revealed 24 percent of members were between one and five years sober, 13 percent of members were sober between five and ten years, 14 percent between 10 and 20 years, and 22 percent beyond 20 years sober. 

    In fact, of the people who are fortunate to recover—22.35 million—half of those do so in various mutual aid groups. A recent study was conducted to determine the difference in attendance, participation, and recovery outcomes of 12-step groups versus alternatives of SMART, Women for Sobriety, and LifeRing. The study concluded that the alternatives were just as effective, if not more so, than 12-step programs. Study author Dr Sara Zemore recommended that professionals refer patients to these 12-step alternatives—especially when patients are atheist, or when they are unsure of whether they wish to pursue complete abstinence or a method of harm reduction.

    I’m not the first person to say that 12-step groups didn’t work for me. And I did throw myself into the program for four years, completing the steps in both AA and NA. I reached a point where I could no longer ignore my feelings: I did not believe in the program—I found it positively disempowering and I found it self-limiting to refer to myself as something I used to be, a person with alcohol use disorder. And I’m not alone, there are articles published every day that echo my point of view, offering experiences of people who have successfully found recovery through alternative pathways.

    As the recovery community expands and gains traction in fighting stigma and making resources more accessible—although we still need significantly more if we’re to end the crisis—we are starting to see greater emphasis on alternative pathways. What’s more, we are seeing that these pathways are presented on an equal footing as more and more research becomes available to support their efficacy. Just this week, Facing Addiction brought out a comprehensive guide, Multiple Pathways of Recovery: A Guide for Individuals and Families. Facing Addiction’s view is that just as substance use disorders are unique, so too is recovery—it’s dynamic and evolving, utilizing a collection of resources, or recovery capital.

    The different pathways of recovery are:

    1. Inpatient or outpatient treatment
    2. Therapy
    3. Holistic therapies
    4. Natural recovery
    5. Recovery housing
    6. Recovery mutual aid groups. These include:
      1. Refuge Recovery,
      2. Celebrate Recovery,
      3. Women for Sobriety,
      4. LifeRing,
      5. Phoenix Multisport,
      6. Moderation Management,
      7. SMART Recovery,
      8. 12 Step groups.
    7. Faith-based recovery services
    8. Medication-assisted recovery, including MAT groups
    9. Peer-based recovery supports
    10. Family recovery
    11. Technology based recovery
    12. Alternative recovery supports
    13. Harm reduction.

    There are a wide variety of pathways and resources that can be used to recover in a way that suits the unique needs of the person recovering. Whether we subscribe to one or more of these methods or pathways, it is our responsibility as members of the recovery community to better inform ourselves (and others) of the other options out there rather than suggesting that our way is the only way. Just because something worked for us does not mean that it must work for everyone. If a person doesn’t find success with the 12-steps, it doesn’t mean that they are just not willing enough or “constitutionally incapable” of being honest with themselves. Perhaps if we stopped judging, became more informed, and met people where they are in their individual recovery journey, we might have a fighting chance at ending this epidemic.

    For more information on all of these pathways, click here.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Paramore’s Hayley Williams Pens Powerful Mental Health Essay

    Paramore’s Hayley Williams Pens Powerful Mental Health Essay

    “Writing kept me alive. Forced me to be honest. It helped me understand that emotional wellness and physical health are actually related.”

    Paramore’s lead singer Hayley Williams is taking the shame out of sadness.

    In the band’s most recent single “Rose-Colored Boy,” Williams sings, “Just let me cry a little bit longer/ I ain’t gon’ smile if I don’t want to.”

    The chorus is a perfect summation of Williams’ current incarnation, as she’s emerged from difficult times and is (at least a little bit) comfortable enough to talk about it.

    In a new essay for Paper magazine, Williams recalled when a lot came crashing down on her at the same time in both her personal life and her career.

    “I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep, I didn’t laugh… for a long time,” she wrote. However, she added, “I’m still hesitant to call it depression. Mostly out of fear people will put it in a headline, as if depression is unique and interesting and deserves a click. Psychology is interesting. Depression is torment.”

    But she said she managed to keep it together through writing. “Writing kept me alive. Forced me to be honest. Made me have empathy for [bandmate Taylor York] in his struggles with mental health. It helped me understand that emotional wellness and physical health are actually related,” she wrote.

    Lately, she said she has felt a shift, as well as in the people around her. Paramore had not released new work since 2013, until they came out with After Laughter in the spring of 2017. The music and the timing of the album were significant for the band.

    “[After Laughter] helps me mark this time as a significant turning point in my life,” said Williams. “I’m noticing similar movement in my friends’ lives too. More presence and awareness. More tenderness. I’m alive to both pain and joy now. I have my old laugh back, as my mom says… And only a couple years ago, I had hoped I’d die.”

    Williams discussed her struggles with mental health in a summer 2017 interview with Fader, as well. She described a feeling of hopelessness that crept up on her in the “past couple of years.”

    “I don’t feel as hopeful as I did as a teenager. For the first time in my life, there wasn’t a pinhole of light at the end of the tunnel,” she said at the time. “I thought, I just wish everything would stop. It wasn’t in the sense of, I’m going to take my life. It was just hopelessness. Like, what’s the point? I don’t think I understood how dangerous hopelessness is. Everything hurts.”

    Paramore is currently on tour, which is set to wrap up in late August.

    View the original article at thefix.com