Body Health & Addictions & my story (part 2)

As I mentioned before, there are many ways in which we get addicted. I think you can be addicted to almost anything.

We usually think of being addicted to substances, like alcohol or drugs. But you can also be addicted to food, television, sex, sports, our smartphones or work, just to name a few. We will see that – seen from the point of view of the Enneagram – we are even addicted to our personalities, our perspective on the world.

Gurdjieff, who has brought the wisdom of the Enneagram to the West, called this tendency to get addicted “the devil of self-calming”. (Naranjo p. 35) Claudio Naranjo further describes this tendency as a “laziness of consciousness [that] may be expressed either as spiritual sloth or more broadly as psychological sloth: a not wanting to know what is happening, not wanting to realize. It is expressed as a chronic self-distraction from oneself, accompanied at the same time by paying exaggerated attention to the outside world.” (p. 35)

It seems to be the case that we are always – consciously or unconsciously – trying to find balance through any means, whether they are healthy or unhealthy:

The need to feel regulated, at ease in our body and in our life, is so important that when we are in a state of dysregulation, we attempt to find the regulation we need, often at any cost. For example, the need to feel regulated is so strong that people smoke despite the fact that they know it is damaging to their health. Smoking seemingly functions as an emotional regulator because nicotine reduces anxiety and, for a short while can relieve depression. Dysregulated individuals smoke to gain a sense of relief even though they know smoking can kill them. Attempts to stop smoking or give up any sort of self-destructive addictive substance or behavior, such as drugs, alcohol, hypersexuality, overeating, or overworking, often fail because it is very difficult to give up a means of self-regulation even when it is unhealthy until it can be replaced with a better form of self-regulation.” (Heller et.al. 2012: p. 7)

I have only this past year, in 2020, realized how much addictions shaped my life. I would not have called myself addicted in any way. I did drink too much alcohol in my twenties, something that is totally culturally accepted, maybe even expected in Germany, especially Bavaria with its rich beer culture.

Looking back, I often wondered how some kind of addictive substance can be so culturally accepted while others – like marihuana – are so stigmatized. Still, I was never really addicted to alcohol as I went without it for long periods but often drank too much in social situations, especially going out to parties and barbecues. At other times it’s maybe more dependencies than addictions, for example in relationships, I have often adjusted myself too much to another’s way of living. Being an empath that comes with the territory and it took a lot of life experience to see the inner workings of how that played out in my life.

As I said before, I did not find any way to fundamentally change with any of the modalities that I tried. I think we need to understand ourselves at a very deep level and we need to be deeply compassionate with our human experience.

Joseph Bailey (1990) confirms my impression that we are not really getting anywhere with the usual methods and therapies and that we are not creating any fundamental change in this way:

Conventional wisdom had it that recovery was a lifelong, often difficult struggle. Clients needed to face the many issues they had avoided through their addiction. Most of my clients were overwhelmed. They clung to me and/or their support group while they tried to wade through these issues. Some gave up and returned to their addiction. Others developed a new compulsion to replace the one they had left behind. Still others developed emotional problems such as depression and anxiety. I became adept at “fixing” their problems or referring them to the appropriate specialist. Thanks to many workshops, I was proficient at diagnosing codependency, adult children of alcoholics, incest victims, and others. The goal of helping my clients to realize mental health or happiness became obscured by my preoccupation with their problems. The negativity was overwhelming; I felt burned out. Most of my colleagues were experiencing the same stress, so I thought I was normal. We gathered in support groups to commiserate about our profession and try to come up with ways to cope. I learned to meditate, keep a journal, do guided imagery and yoga. I exercised regularly. None of these cures had lasting effects. I knew something was missing. I kept searching. I tried to improve my skills as a therapist by learning new techniques and strategies, reading books, and attending seminars. I considered finding a new profession or doing less direct client work. Looking back, I had put a cap on what my clients and I could expect from life. I didn’t believe it was possible to enjoy continuing mental health or serenity. That would be denial! (pp. 41)

It took me incredibly long to see that “franticness of the struggle” as David Hawking (2012: p. 251) calls it. To avoid our inner emptiness, we distract ourselves through:

novels, magazines, television, and websites. Or, the emptiness is avoided by the constant going to parties, escaping through drugs, numbing out with a few drinks, watching movies, and pursuing other amusements. We tend to do just about anything to avoid facing that feeling of inner emptiness. There is nothing wrong with any of these activities, in and of themselves. What we want to examine is only the state of consciousness, the state of awareness, and the manner in which the activities are perceived, pursued, and experienced. In a state of inner freedom, these same events and experiences take on a totally different significance. (p. 251)