Bad Choices and the People Who Forgive Them

God help you when you botch it…because a surprising amount of your friends won’t. I remember when my mother, a battling alcoholic, would phone me drunk sometimes and I’d cut her off and tell her to phone me back when she was sober. And then I’d put the phone down in her ear. I imagine that hurt her deeply, but I was determined not to tolerate her bad behavior and add to her delinquency by allegedly condoning it.

My ex, that heroin addict I mentioned last article, used to come home from three-day drug binges and clutch at me to help him through the repercussions of seventy-two hours of mainlining and drinking. I’d lie on the bed and read a book and shove him off my ankles and treat him like he wasn’t there.
When my friends would insist they were going to give up drinking, I’d be delighted with their decision. Being an ex-alcoholic who stayed sober for six years, I encouraged them heartily to pursue their choice and offered my support if they were struggling.
And when my friends messed up and made bad choices, I was disappointed with them. I couldn’t believe they’d let that happen. I’d be horrified at such pathetic decisions on their part.

But when I botched it myself recently, I guess I was hardly surprised at the anger that boiled up from a couple of my friends. Not that I’ve told that many people, but I’m amazed at how the fact that I slid off the proverbial wagon has made people who I could phone at 3am with a broken heart or toothache suddenly so angry at me. I got the bitter taste of what I have no right to give.

I have a friend who gets really angry whenever I’m ill. I don’t take it personally. It’s just his way of dealing with the fact that I’m sick. Maybe that’s it regarding my slide back into addiction. Worry about me manifesting itself as anger at me. I’d like to believe that.

My theory from experience in a ministry with addicts still stands…the people you want to talk to when you’re trying to scratch your way back up the slope to sobriety beyond the hideous withdrawal that keeps clawing at you to come back down? They are the ones who’ve been there. The ones who get it. The ones who don’t judge you. The people with the patience to talk you through it, make you laugh, tough love you, make you think about something else, whatever it takes. Those are the people you can still pick up the phone to. Granted, being one of those people myself, that tolerance count has its limits. But you can discern the people who mean business. The ones who’ll come right, who might mess up again in the future, but their hearts are in it. It’s a battle of the flesh and no one wins. Only with Jesus Christ can we overcome. He gets it. He knows we are fragile dust.

Who listened to me this time?
My “spiritual” dad, a man who has battled weakness with pornography. He gets it.
My “spiritual” mom, a woman who has overcome her own battles with drinking and smoking and people issues.
A good friend of mine who, the moment I fessed up, begged me to stop. And kept at me until I did.
And a childhood friend, one of my oldest friends in the world. A deeply analytical, sometimes suicidal melancholic just like me. We grew up together and watched each other struggle through the drug and alcohol years, which most times overlapped. He’s the guy who talked me through last night’s battle through withdrawal, using up his last airtime to do it. Because he’s been there. And with a few words of knowledge from his own experience, I felt better already. He even had me laughing my way out of the foetal position. No judgement. No sarcasm. No awkward silence.

The hard thing about people being angry with you times like these is that lead weight feeling you bear that you have no right to be angry back at them. Like a disobedient animal, you feel obligated to keep a low profile and give them the time they need to trust you again. And you have to trust them to take you back and remember you might do it again.

Otherwise, I can only surmise that every time I slip up, I’m going to have less and less friends. I’ve got some work cut out for me there in that case. Because it’s not the first time I lost it. And as sure as God brings addicts out of the pit, it won’t be the last time I probably try and crawl back into it.