Tag Archives: toxicity

No One Should Be Able to Love You Better Than You Can

I believe that I have learned an important lesson in how to heal from a painful situation or relationship (and it has only taken me more than half of my life to figure it out).

In my healing process, I had to learn to give myself all the feelings and attention that the people in my life could not give to me for one reason or another.

Who knew that being consistently and intentionally kind and loving to myself could become the most powerful way for me to truly heal from trauma or pain?

It sounds so simple, but when a person is in pain or when they are sad they often do not think that being kind to themselves is the answer. They just want the pain to go away.

They just want to feel better.

Once I learned how to start showing up for myself, emotionally, I began to acnowledge and understand my feelings, and my outer wounds begin to heal, one day at a time, as some might say.

I also learned that it was very important to resist the temptation to numb myself or do anything excessively, as a means for helping me cope with my feelings of sadness and loss.

Sadness and loss are just as much a part of life as happiness and gain, but many of us do not know how to manage sadness like we do happiness or joy. No one really teaches us head-on in childhood or adolescence how to work through sad and even negative feelings in ways that are loving and healthy, at least none that I remember. In my family of origin, for example, my siblings and I were each on our own when it came to feeling sadness and loss, especially as we all experienced the divorce of our parents and thus the loss of our family life as we knew it then. Nevertheless, I believe that we did the best we could with the tools that we had at the time.

In adulthood, as I heal from sad and painful situations, it has been critical for me to be more intentional about wading through my feelings. I take the time to feel and express my feelings, not to run from them or ignore them. I am a part of several support groups, and therefore I learn from others who are actively taking the time to recover their authentic selves.

On the other hand, I frequently seek out opportunities for solitude and self-reflection, and when I feel super low, I give myself all the feelings that I want and need from others, such as:

patience,

kindness,

recognition,

encouragement,

acceptance,

motivation,

praise,

unconditional love,

courage,

and of course the healing joy that comes from laughter.

Furthermore, since I am solo, there are many enjoyable activities that I do for and with myself, like listening to straight ahead jazz and professional message therapy, which bring me back to myself and to the task of making my dreams come true. I spend my energy on myself, instead of on others who have demonstrated to me that they do not give a flying-47 about me, my health, or my ultimate success in life.

As I practiced lovingkindness towards myself, I knew I was getting better when the memory of what others did or did not do did not matter to me as much as it once did. When I put the focus on just being me, in the words of the great Abbey Lincoln, I could tell that I was recollecting myself and my power. My strength was renewed as I learned to cultivate love and compassion into my very own being.

As a result, I have gained a profound realization of self-preservation; one that I never really had before. This understanding comes to me at the strangest of times, and when it does I remind that vulnerable and precious part of myself that I will do everything in my power to be here for her and to take care of her, to the best of my ability for the rest of my life.

Realizing the significance of self-advocacy is one of the greatest feelings that I have ever had: it has reassured me of the trustworthiness of my own persistence, power, and presence: my very own will to thrive. Sometimes, that looks like a fierce standing up for myself or protecting myself from those in my life who are unable to be there for me or from those who try to harm or hurt me. I have learned to trust myself, and I trust those who are trustworthy.

In today’s society, this type of vigilance is necessary because, increasingly, more people – all around the world – are exhibiting narcissistic and selfish traits. Regrettably, there are some very troubled people in this world and  they do cause others to feel pain and suffering, and I believe that the people who do this are very, very sick individuals. That is no excuse, but I do perceive them as immature and ill-minded people who function like badly behaving children. As adults, they are very dangerous people to be around because they often make impulsive, misguided decisions, but let them tell it  they are the victim of everyone else’s actions. They do not take accountability for what they do to hurt others nor do they seem to realize that they sabotage their own happiness. This is quite sad.

Anyhow, the moral of this blog is that unless you are sick or legitimately dependent upon others, no one should be able to love you (an adult) any better than you can. We can heal ourselves when we present ourselves with the gifts of lovingkindness.

© 2024 annalise fonza, Ph.D., MURP, M.Div., MPA

Updated 02/28/2024

“Who Do You Think You Are?” Look at Where You Come From

Hands down, one of the worst episodes that I experienced with a rageaholic happened on the telephone. One night, about 9:00pm, I received a call from a man that I loved and who claimed to love me. He asked me about my day.  As I began to share the events of my day, and expressed my disappointment about the delivery of an item that I had purchased online, he went into a rage. From out of nowhere he was yelling at me, repeating the words: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE???

As he raised his voice, assaulting me with his words, I stopped talking in mid-sentence. I was totally stunned and mentally searching for a way to understand what in the world was going on. It was an episode that was terribly unexpected, uncalled for, exhausting, and traumatizing. His outburst was the last thing that I expected in that moment as he was clearly out-of-control and using his words and his “smartphone” to go off on me about an experience that had nothing to do with him. I was just sharing information, as requested, about my day.

The next morning he texted me to apologize, but the kicker was that he justified his yelling blaming it on “our lack of chemistry.” Not one word about a totally ambushing me emotionally with outrageous and unacceptable behavior caused by who knows what and by some very hostile, even hateful words aimed at me. Just days before, he told me how much he loved me, but yelling “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE” for no reason at all is not how you show someone that you love them. Frankly, that tends to disqualify any claim of love (lol).

Indeed, I could not let him get away with acting like nothing obscene happened the night before. In response to his so-called apology, I simply texted back and rejected any claim that the incident had anything to do with me or with anything that I had done. In fact, the words that I used were: that was all you. As expected, there was no response. There was complete silence. He took absolutely no responsibility for his words and actions the previous night.

Nevertheless, I knew that I was not to blame for his unacceptable behavior. I was a victim of his words and actions, but I did not need to become victimized by his silence. What he was doing to me was totally incredible, but, sadly, it was a reflection of the hateful perceptions that he carried within himself about the person that he had become in response to the events of his life and as a result of his poor choices.

In the past several years, I have learned enough about addiction and alcoholism not to let a person who is struggling with his own identity or sense of self accuse me of not knowing mine. Under no circumstances would I or should I take responsibility for another person’s outrageous behavior, nor would I be an emotional punching bag for someone who was controlled by their fears and addictions.

Thankfully, I have learned how to give myself what I need when others break my heart or show me that they cannot or will not be kind to me or be there for me, emotionally or otherwise. It was a very troubling encounter, yet one that I will not allow myself to forget. Several years before the phone encounter, my friend admitted to me that he was a wounded man because of his experience with childhood trauma; in fact, the word he used to describe himself was “broken.” When I first heard him say this about himself, I did not want to believe him, but the more that I experienced with him, the more I could understand how a person’s brokenness can cause problems for everyone with whom they come into contact. This is why it is important for those suffering with the memory of childhood trauma to seek help in adulthood as they become able.

As I sought the help that I needed, I learned many valuable strategies and lessons that empowered me to respond, or not, to the toxicity of an emotionally abusive partner or entity. For instance, following the call, I allowed myself to acknowledge and feel the pain that he caused. I took the time to feel the trauma of his words move through my body; I did some stretches on my exercise mat; and then I made myself a cup of hot tea. As I sat down in silence, I took at least three long, deep breaths. In that moment, I grieved, and I was kind and loving to myself. In that moment gave myself the compassion that I needed being present to myself. This quiet, solitary exercise empowered me to embrace my feelings and own my feelings and thus my power in the moment, even as my assailant was no where to be found, nor did he seem to care. But I knew better than that: I knew that his silence was filled with his shame. Today, when I remember that incident, it still stings; still hurts, but I know what to do with the hurt when it comes to my awareness: I feel it, acknowledge it, and I send it back to where it came from. 

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

I share this memory for two reasons: 1) because telling my story enables me to heal; and 2) as we head into a new year, I want to say that the words who do you think you are are significant for all of us.

When COVID-19 first made its onset, I remember saying to another friend, “Is the whole world going to shut down?” A few weeks later, it definitely seemed to me that the whole world was shutting down. Everything was changing, and super fast! As time went by, like everybody else I knew, I had to think long and hard about the shifts that were happening right under my feet. The world was changing, and sooner or later we all would have new and renewed ways of working, loving, and being.

As an urban planning academician, I teach courses about ethnic identity and the relationship it has to the history of place, as well as to the practice of urban planning. This year, I found myself emphasizing the intersectionality of identity, place and urban planning more than ever before. Currently, most of my students are brown and yellow: they are predominantly Mexican-American or Asian-American, and I have structured the course to explore how specific narratives about cultural identity of black, brown, red, and yellow people, as it pertains to place, have emerged as a central aspect of placemaking in the U.S. Each of us has a cultural identity or heritage, which has everything to do with the expression of who we are, individually and collectively.

When I introduce my students to a concept that I and urban planning scholars call “emancipatory urban planning,” I reference the work of Dr. Gabor Maté. His recent best-selling book, The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness and Healing in a Toxic Culture is already a best-seller, and I am savoring every word. Yet, one of Dr. Maté’s best presentations with Diederik Wolsak and Sat Dharam Kaur ND, where they explore the importance of self-identity and self-awareness – is one of his best conversations online, as far as I am concerned. My takeaway is that if as individuals we think that we are worthy and valuable of love, then we will act that way: we will treat ourselves and others with compassion, love, and respect. On the other hand, if, deep down, we believe that we are not worthy of compassion, love, and respect, then we might mistreat ourselves and others, or we might rage and scream and point the finger at everyone else and make up all kinds of twisted and justifications for  out-of-control behaviors, just as described above.

I teach my students that before they go out into the world to work with communities as urban or regional planners, they must first know how to love, respect, and value themselves. In other words, before those of us who are in the business of sustaining communities and thus empowering others to be co-creators in making and remaking communities, we must know who we are and from whence we have come. We have to know and acknowledge our histories and cultural heritages, which are as different as we are. We are all human beings, but culturally, we are quite diverse. Becoming aware of our cultural heritages, and how they enable us to survive and even thrive in the world is essential for professional urban and regional planners. 

Over the years, I have endured terribly abusive verbal attacks by those who express hate or rejection of who I am (or how I self-identify) in various forms, including passive ones. In previous blog posts, I have written about the insults and verbal attacks that I have experienced by others because I identify as an atheist and as a womanist. Because our world is dominated by patriarchal and theistic thinking, many women, believe it or not, perpetuate patriarchal, theistic beliefs, consciously and subconsciously. Watching a woman articulate toxic patriarchal ideas and norms is just as difficult as it is for me to watch a black man who has internalized self-hate due to racist or white supremacist thinking. I have learned to anticipate hateful responses to my being an atheist and a womanist, yet because I anticipate them does not mean that I am comfortable with it when it happens.

At times, I must consider whether to take action against those who express hate or exclusion of me when they learn that I am an atheist. Sadly, there are times when I must take formal action to protect myself when people threaten to do harm to my person because I am a woman or for any other reason. There are some forms of disrespect and disregard that I simply do not tolerate. However, when my person or my mental health are not in danger or under threat, I have overcome abusive and hateful encounters by focusing on my breathing and on what I am feeling. Aside from the use of external assistance for protection from an abuser, like a restraining order, breathing has empowered me to keep my mental health in tact.

I am also usually willing to listen to others even with they have false or wrong perceptions, such as the false belief that an atheist does not have morals or has an alleged allegiance to an alleged being that is called “the devil”. For the record, I do not believe in any gods or supernatural beings, including the one that is called “the devil.” As long as it is clear to me that a person is not acting to disrespect, devalue, or harm me, I am willing to entertain a conversation about what it means to be an atheist for the sake of definition. But, it usually does not go much further than that.

I am very thankful for what I have learned about the power of mindful breathing from the teachings of Thich Nhat Hahn. A few years ago, I became intrigued by the Buddhist notion of the “bodhisattva.” A bodhisattva is more than an enlightened person. In the words of Thich Nhat Hahn, a bodhisattva is someone who “will allow another person to empty their heart,” even when that person has wrong perceptions or hurtful things to say. A couple of years ago, I began to incorporate the way of the bodhisattva in to my day-to-day interactions. When presented with the opportunity to listen, I allow the people that I love who intentionally make wrong or false things to empty their hearts, to an extent.

Everyone is not willing to aspire to be like a bodhisattva. Some could care less about listening to the pain and anger of their loved ones, but the more that I listened to Thich Nhat Hahn, the more I wanted to embrace bodhisattva practices. I wanted to listen to people that I cared about, even if what they said lacked validity or even truth, so that I could understand them. It was difficult at first, but learning to listening to others with wrong perceptions – for the sole purpose of gaining understanding them – without trying to correct them nor taking responsibility for their thoughts – is in my opinion, an exercise in the power of love, which is the subject of my 2019 e-publication Rebuilding Black Communities, With Love.

As I continue to experience hate and rejection from others, I would rather be like the bodhisattva than anyone else, such as an enemy or opponent. To some degree, I am even willing to listen to the pain of my loved ones even though they may refuse to listen to me, because sometimes it is not about educating others or being in competition with them. Although I am an educator at heart, it is not always about education or agreemy, rather there are times when assuring others that they have been heard is all that matters.

In the words of Dr. Cornel West, I want to be like a “wounded healer, not like a wounded hurter,” because although repeatedly wounded or hurt or abandoned by many, worldwide black and brown people have taught the world how to heal, and we have done it through the unapologetic and authentic embrace of our heritage or cultural identity; through the creation of the literary and musical art forms such as the blues, jazz, and gospel music, for instance. Indeed, I have come from a people that has survived unthinkable hate and rejection simply because of the color of their skin, and some of us have nonetheless created numerous forms of beauty in the world.

There are other aspects of my cultural heritage that have enabled me to understand myself, even in the face of abuse or hate. In 2012, I published an essay in a peer-reviewed journal about the dialectical relationship between womanism and feminism in the planning profession, as I see it. In that article, I reference Alice Walker who asserted with her 2001 book, The Way Forward is with a Broken-Heart. As a woman who proudly identifies as black, I know first-hand how black people have experienced personal, social, and spatial heartache in a world that does not respect or value us. For example, there are numerous black women and men writers and artists, such as Alice Walker, who have lived with the pain of alienation caused by wrong perceptions of who they are and what they stand for. In many instances, they have moved quietly through the heartache with mindful breathing and living, and sometimes without saying a mumbling word.

When I was in elementary school, I observed the elders in my life live mindfully and in silence. For a short while, one of my siblings and I walked a short distance (less than a mile) to the babysitter’s house everyday when school let out until our mother could come to pick us up when she got off work. My babysitter went by the name of Bachi (I have no idea how to spell it) and we called her husband, Granddad. Granddad was a chauffer for a living and they lived a quiet, simple life taking care of their children, grandchildren and other peoples’ children, like my siblings and me. Bachi was very sweet to us; she always provided us with something good to eat (a habit that I tend to do whenever I have visitors). Granddad did not say very much; most of the time he moved without uttering too many words, but he almost always managed to smile at us. When he arrived home daily, he sat in his chair amongst us (there was only one living room); usually he fell asleep while we all sat and watch television. The memory of Bachi and Granddad is memorable to me because they taught me the importance of quiet dignity and the significance of living simply and with meaning. Their house was full of children and love.

When it is appropriate, and when my person is not in danger, I want to employ the power of this type of self-lovingkindness. Breathing deeply and focusing on my inner peace or serenity is one way of tapping into the power of who I am. It is certainly what I do when I go for a daily two-mile walk or bike ride, which brings me back to the truth of who I am; it does not make me think of a god or a higher power, it is an act that situates me at the center of my being and it makes me get in touch with all that has made me who I am.

There are times when I speak up and stand up for myself or others, but sometimes it is best to be like Bachi and Granddad and move in simplicity and silence using only my breath to remind myself of who I am. It may look like I am not doing much by breathing, but it is a powerful act of self-love if I am able to be wholly in the moment and totally aware of what is happening within – in the present moment. Of course, there are times that my choice to breathe instead of responding with words may also be my way of letting others know that I have had enough. Choosing to act in this way – with mindful breathing and self-care – is one of the powerful ways that I have seen responsible adults and elders in my life manage painful moments and realities; it is a practice that is inextricably tied my cultural heritage .

If you have not done so already, I hope that you use this new year to come to a better understanding of who you are and where you came from. You can do this by looking at the way you value yourself and by the way that you treat others, everyday. If you were taught by the people who raised you to truly value and respect yourself and others, that will help you to answer the question who do you think you are? On the other hand, if you were taught to devalue yourself and others, that is probably who you will be, everyday, unless you do something – yourself – to change that, because who you think you are has an awful lot to do with where you come from, how you grew up, and of all the people and places that made you who you are today.

© 2023 annalise fonza, Ph.D., MURP, M.Div, MPA

Updated 12/30/2023

What’s Your Life’s Legacy?

Recovery from addiction has been a subject of my blogging for many years. My adult dating experiences have brought me into direct contact with men who have been gripped by addiction, which means that I too have been affected by addiction, notwithstanding my own shortcomings and addictions (informed by the groundbreaking work of Dr. Gabor Mate, I believe we all have addictions whether we acknowledge them or not).

Recently, I asked a dear friend who stopped drinking primarily for health reasons late in his sixties: “Besides health, what is the number one thing or idea that caused you to stop drinking?” His response was that he did not want his addiction to alcohol to be his legacy.

His answer truly resonated with me.

On the other hand, I still have other friends and loved ones who are deeply controlled and duped by addiction (and the consequences thereof). Everyone around them knows that they are in trouble, but often even they remain silent for fear of being hurt or hurting the feelings of the addict. Personally, however, the person who is struggling with addiction is oblivious to their addictive patterns, although it is obvious to others that they suffer from super destructive patterns and behaviors, which can include excessive working, exercising, smoking, gambling, eating, attention-getting behaviors (via social media and devices), shopping, and sexual activities (including masturbation and pornography) that cannot be managed or controlled, not by their own volition, by Jesus, nor by their “higher power” who is sometimes called “The Most High.”

I have spent more than two decades as a “recovering person” and have learned that it is one thing to have addictions – we all do; it is another to be controlled by them – and not all of us are controlled by our addictions. Those who are controlled by their addictions suffer devastating and embarrassing consequences, and they inevitably hurt, and sometimes destroy the people around them. The damage that addicts cause can be felt on many levels: physical, emotional, financial, sexual, social, etc., and everyone with whom they come into contact will be potentially affected.

The dictionary (Merriam-Webster) defines oblivion as “the state of being forgotten or a state of forgetting.” That is a good word for what happens to the addict: they use substances, people, and behaviors to forget whatever it is that causes them pain and to numb themselves; they do not want to think about or feel their pain. The oblivion of the addict coupled with the denial of their own suffering subsequently causes them to harm themselves and others, yet they usually do not seem to comprehend this either. Instead, their goal seems to be to cast themselves into the “sea of forgetfulness” with substances and behaviors that enable them to get stuck in oblivion. They do not want to feel.

Recently, I learned about the death of a man that I used to date – nearly two decades ago – who was formerly addicted to narcotics and alcohol. About a year ago, he experienced a death-blowing health event when he was just sixty years old and he did not recover. When we first started dating, he shared painful and troubling details of his childhood and how he used drugs to help him cope during his early and mid adulthood. He said that he tried Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous, but he approached his recovery like an option versus a necessity, which is one of the reasons that I did not stay in relationship with him. I was not convinced that he truly wanted to recover from his traumatic past and his personal and social environment was filled with easy access to addictive substances and behaviors. Proverbially, I could see the writing on the wall, and as much as I enjoyed his company and his person, I also knew that I would have been putting myself in danger if I stayed with him.

Unfortunately, being in such close proximity to the “familiar” in his social and spatial environment kept triggering him and calling him back to the same playground where he was not strong enough to stand up to his temptations, so he would go back to his addictions. Indeed, relapse is what happens when an addict stops using but they do not change their environment. This also happens when an addict does not replace the addictive habits and activities with healthy ones and surround themselves with healthy, supportive people. In other words, no one can go into the lion’s den without any armour and expect to come out unscathed. I was really saddened to learn of the premature death of the bright, supportive man that I once dated who seemed trapped in his addiction by his environment, but I was not surprised.

There is an old adage that says, if you want to recover from painful events and people in your life, you will also have to change “your playground and your playmates.” This adage rings true for the addict and those who love the addict. When we keep going back to the same people, places and things who are not good for us or who cause us pain, eventually we will be hurt again. Therefore, there are times when we may have to distance ourselves or completely walk away from these people, places, and things for our own good, especially if the boundaries that we have set in place do not work, or if the addict is constantly crossing or disregarding them (that is if they do not run you away first!).

I have found that creating this safe space to be a very nerve-wrecking and time-consuming task (especially if the distance you need to set in place will alienate or isolate you from your best friend or the very thing that has given you a sense of meaning or joy in life). It is not easy to create a safety plan or exit, nor is it comfortable to set boundaries with people who will probably get angry with those boundaries. We must expect the addict to be angry with our boundaries, and there are many stops and restarts before we succeed at creating the safe space that we need to engage a person who is active in addiction – but it is what we have to go through if we are to overcome the pain inflicted by those who are perhaps not truly aware of the impact of their words or actions.

As one of my recovery partners once said: “It is almost impossible to love a person who struggles with addiction.” I can attest that it is almost impossible to love an addict because most addicts lie, and thus engaging them is frustrating to say the least. Indeed, it is devastating and painful to be in relationship with a person who is active in addiction, and usually that means they will be lying to cover it up. On the one hand, I believe it is possible to love an addict, but it is also important to recognize when it is time to abandon ship to save ourselves and name the pain caused by addiction – this we must do if we are to heal. If oblivion or the habitual attempt to not feel is a such a significant aspect of addiction, then finding the courage to feel, which is one of the definitive marks of our humanity, is definitely part of the answer.

Thankfully, I have learned from so many that staying silent is one of the things that hurts me and the addict; being silent is not healthy because it can destroy us on the inside: science has shown us that it can literally lead to the body attacking itself with pain or disease (I recommend Dr. Gabor Mate in The Body Says No). Recently, a very abusive addict that I know asked me, “Are you still mad at me?” and I said no. But that was far from the truth. A few days later, I went back and admitted that not only was I angry at this person, what I really felt was rage. Of course, there was no response, but it was liberating for me to own up to my feelings because I believe that on the other side of my anger, rage, loss and grief there is healing, and the promise of healing has kept me on the path to recovery. I must be true and patient with my own healing journey, especially when I am feeling super strong emotions.

Fortunately, I want healing more than I want people in my life. I am committed to experiencing peace and acceptance with myself and my life’s choices, but it took me a lot of time to get to this point. I had to learn how to put myself before others and I am still working on it: sometimes I am not as successful as I want to be because I have been socialized to put the care of myself after the care of others, most women have been taught to do this in personal and professional terms. I also have taken the time to feel my pain and not run from it; I have learned to be aware and mindful of my pain, but I do not let it consume me. Becoming mindful of strong emotions, a practice inspired by the teachings of the great Thich Nhat Hanh, has been a game-changer for me. His Buddhist teachings have taught me “how to handle strong emotions.”

Likewise, to face a powerful addiction, an addict must 1) learn how to put the care of him or herself above their addictions; 2) find new habits and a healthy, supportive social environment; 3) be courageous enough to feel their pain, and 4) stop using substances and behaviors to numb their pain.

Unfortunately, this does not happen as often as we might think it does. Many addicts are too weak in the face of their addictions because most do not know how to cope with the ups and downs of life without their addictions. Far too often this means that the addict will suffer debilitating consequences, even death that is accelerated and complicated by years and sometimes decades of self-abuse.

I sincerely wonder if those who actively remain in addiction ponder their own sense of purpose and being: do they think about how they will be remembered for who they are, or for what, if anything, will they leave behind when this life is over, besides a reputation of being drunk or high and therefore being destructive to themselves and others? Frankly, I do not think that most addicts find themselves in that kind of headspace very often: they are literally too out of their minds to reflect upon their own futures, for indeed, when addiction has control of a person, there is no one home.

Contrary to popular belief, drunks and addicts do not speak the truth when they are under the influence, for example, rather they speak the twisted language of the “committee” that has convened in their drunk minds and usually those voices are super careless and reckless. Rarely, do I trust anything that comes out of the the mouth of a person who is under the influence, and especially not if the person who is speaking gets most of their news or information from social media and unreliable sources (and that is most people these days), and definitely not if they are not doing anything to help themselves.

What my elder friend said truly resonated with me because when it is all said and done…when I have completed my life’s work, I too want to leave behind a legacy that I would be proud of. I want to be known as someone who stood up to false idols and addictions (however messy my standing up might have been). I want to be remembered as someone who contributed something meaningful to the world in which I live. I am very proud of this friend who has become an urban farmer and who gives the food away to the people in the neighboring community. As far as he is concerned, addiction did not have the last word and I truly celebrate that!.

To this day, however, there are people in my life that I love deeply who have chosen to stay active in addiction and, thus, they suffer greatly and they bring great suffering to others. Consequently, I have had to distance myself from them, even when I did not want to, because I learned first-hand that they would harm me, even if they did not mean to do it. It is said that “hurt people, hurt people.” I still love the addicts in my life, but from a safe distance and with the help of recovery programs, most of which are online and free. So while I have lost people that I love to addiction to an extent, I have also gained people who are in recovery and who have helped me (based on personal experience) to navigate my own recovery from the impact of loving someone who is struggling with addiction. I believe that we can all address our addictions by: making healing a priority for ourselves; by mindful living, breathing and becoming aware but not consumed by strong emotions or feelings; and by replacing addictive habits and behaviors with healthy, courageous, and straightforward communication and responses (setting boundaries and delivering consequences like walking away) with those who cause us harm.

If you are struggling with the impact of someone else’s addiction, I recommend finding a group or confiding in someone who knows from experience what it is like to endure a relationship with an addict. Most of my friends who are not in recovery, some of whom I do not communicate with any longer, were not willing or able to let me develop or experience my own recovery or healing process. In a couple instances, I felt that they wanted me to respond to an addict in my life in their way and that was not going to happen. I felt silenced when that happened. Healing from addiction is messy and certainly it is imperfect, but I am the architect of my own recovery, and no one who is my friend should want or try to take that away from me. I am responsible for recovering myself.

We cannot leave meaningful things behind in this life if we let our addictions rule us, or if we stay active in our addictions. In addition, if we allow addiction to run our lives, then we will suffer and cause suffering to others. I do not want to do that. We must work daily at keeping our addictions or compulsions under control. Living sober must become a priority for us all (and please note that for me sobriety is not synonymous with abstinence).

So, how about you? What is your legacy, or how do you want to be remembered? What is the measure of your life beyond the earthly life that we know (and not in terms of children or grandchildren)? What is your legacy? What reputation are you creating for yourself in life? Given the toxicity of the world that we are living in, I believe these are very important questions; this world creates the conditions for addiction and it drives us all to soothe ourselves from the pain that we experience, but that is not an excuse to do nothing. If we are ever to experience transcendence and peace, I believe, we must rise above our addictions by recovering our true selves, which will empower us to live sober and free.

Please feel free to leave your answer in the comments section below. I look forward to your feedback.

© 2023 annalise fonza, Ph.D.

Updated 10/01/2023