The Tears of a Clown

Addicts are masters of disguise. We quickly learn how to hide our secrets, as well as our feelings and emotions. We pretend things are fine when they’re actually falling apart. We lie to cover up our using…and we’re often successful.

Until we’re not.

When someone asks “How are you?” we make a choice…and usually respond with “fine”, even when we’re not. I’ve heard that FINE stands for “fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional”. So yes, I was fine. Because what would happen if I told the truth? I might have had to face someone’s sympathy or concern. Or confess to something that was causing me remorse. Or admit to feeling fear, anger or insecurity. Not only would someone else see the pain that was underneath my well-constructed facade, but I might have to look at it too. And it’s way easier to push those feelings aside and pretend they’re not there. Or to stuff them down with food, sex, shopping or other unhealthy behaviors. And of course the best solution is to numb the feelings with alcohol and drugs. When circumstances challenge us we turn to substances to check out. A few drinks will take the edge off and a few more will lull us into a state of blissful oblivion. The problems seem to magically disappear. It works for a while.

Until it doesn’t.

We hide behind our masks and we play all sorts of games to conceal the truth. Toward the end of my drinking I was putting away a half bottle of wine a night. Except that it was actually closer to two. I would juggle several open bottles among different parts of the refrigerator: a half-full bottle on the shelf, one in the door, one on its side in the vegetable drawer…I thought I was trying to fool my husband. But he couldn’t have cared less about how much I was drinking at that point. I now know that I was really trying to fool myself. As long as there was always half a bottle in the fridge, I’d only drunk half a bottle, right? It made sense.

Until it didn’t.

The biggest challenge in recovery is learning to feel feelings again. We no longer have the escape hatch of substances so we have to sit with those feelings until they pass. But we don’t have to do it alone. A recovery coach or a sponsor or a sober friend can help, but only if we’re willing to ask for help. We have to take off the mask, wipe off the fake smile, let go of the act. We have to be honest and open and vulnerable. Vulnerability used to be scary to me, something to be ashamed of. But once I accept that I am who I am, at any given moment, free of disguises, healing is possible. Sometimes it feels like the pain will never end…

Until it does.