By Matt Shedd

Those unfamiliar with the language used in 12 Step communities may have never heard the term “emotional sobriety.” But this, perhaps more than anything else, is the goal we have for our clients at MARR.  

The term comes from the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, Bill Wilson, who refers to emotional sobriety as going beyond mere abstinence from alcohol. In emotional sobriety the person begins to cultivate what he describes as “real maturity and balance…in our relations with ourselves, with our fellows, and with God.”

Like most processes of spiritual growth, the path to emotional sobriety is one of letting go: letting go of our ideas of who we think we are, what we deserve, who we think others think we are, and anything else that blocks our acceptance of our lives as they are. 

The spiritual maturity that Bill described is not typically achieved by the means that we anticipate. It is not usually found through the heroic fantasy we may have envisioned of helping to “save the world” and showing everyone how wonderful we are. It is found through heartbreak, failure, and loss–a shattering of the false ideas of who we think we are. The good news is that if we trust the path, the losses and failures that we thought would destroy us become the firm foundation of a new identity that is not subject to constant change.

The path to emotional sobriety can seem like quite the opposite for the person who is on it. It can feel like a path to emotional chaos.  It usually starts with the feeling that the whole world is falling apart. All the firm grips and footholds we used to have on our lives are no longer there. That is why the mentorship and guidance of a sponsor and others further along in the 12 Step process is so essential. This support provides the connection outside of one’s own feelings that can sustain us through these emotional rough patches. 

External Crisis

An external crisis often precipitates the process of getting into recovery. With our clients coming into MARR, they are often facing the consequences of years of substance abuse. These consequences can take many forms: ultimatums from family members, legal consequences from the court, the threat of losing a job or professional license, or the possibility of losing custody of a child, to name just a few possibilities. 

These consequences are often dramatic, urgent, and loud. They are circumstances that demand immediate attention. The consequences are so disruptive to “business as usual” that they can summon an uncommon willingness from our clients to take the dramatic step of checking into long-term treatment.

Although painful and shocking, this external crisis is usually only the preface to a more significant internal crisis where lasting recovery can actually begin. 

Internal Crisis 

The external consequences are often necessary to get people to the place where they have a genuine spiritual crisis forcing them to question their identity. 

Once they are in treatment, MARR clients are no longer able to rely on things outside of themselves to give them a sense of their identity. Separated from their jobs, houses, families, and daily routines, they no longer have easily ready answers for who they are.  Although not as dramatic as the chaotic circumstances that usually cause people to check into treatment, this crisis can sometimes be even more painful. 

The person at this stage of their recovery can begin to see the discontentedness that has been underneath the alcoholism or addiction.  

In the treatment environment at MARR, the client no longer has the constant activity of drinking, using, and cleaning up of consequences. The causes underneath the continued substance use can now be exposed. 

Normal life is now the problem, and the client gets the opportunity to see this up close. The person in early recovery can now see what Bill Wilson calls the “false dependencies,” which get in the way of emotional sobriety, specifically “a demand for the possession and control of the people and the conditions surrounding me.” 

When these dependencies on being able to control people and conditions were threatened previously, drugs or alcohol served as an effective balm to cover over the pain of not having these expectations met. Now, without the temporary distraction of substances, clients can see how frequently these attempts to control people and circumstances undermine peaceful, contented living. 

Unrealistic expectations make it impossible for one to stay emotionally balanced and weather the ups and downs of daily living. For this reason, much of the treatment at MARR focuses on the daily emotions our clients encounter in the small things: grocery shopping, negotiating car rides, making weekend plans as a community, to name a few. 

Our clients practice negotiating these situations in a protected environment where the stakes are lower, so when they leave they are better prepared to handle weightier matters.

Outgoing Love

Bill Wilson describes the basis to longstanding emotional sobriety in the following way, 

“This seems to be the primary healing circuit: an outgoing love of God’s creation and His people, by means of which we avail ourselves of His love for us.”

This may sound more “religious” than some of our clients might feel comfortable with, but what this looks like in practice does not have to be “religious” at all.  The general sentiment of emotional sobriety happening through “outgoing love” begins to show up in the relationships they have with the therapeutic community they are living with here at MARR.

The power of community provides the possibility of basing one’s identity on something bigger and more stable than one’s own constantly changing feelings. 

Life is no longer about having to figure things out on one’s own, which is an emotionally volatile situation to be in. They are now able to rely on the protection of the community. 

With the shift in focus to thinking of the wellbeing of others, the individual starts to experience a sense of their own wellbeing on a deeper experiential level. They are no longer simply doing damage control around the consequences of their own actions, but are actually looking out for the welfare of others, who are in turn looking out for them. 

It is in the practice of daily life with the therapeutic community at MARR that our clients experience what Bill was talking about when he stated, “My stability came out of trying to give, not out of demanding that I receive.”

Source: 

Bill Wilson, “Emotional Sobriety: The Last Frontier.” The Grapevine, January 1958. Accessible at http://silkworth.net/pages/aahistory/general/emotionalsobriety.php

Interview with Talitha Klingberg, LCSW

Can you tell us a little bit about how clients come to the professionals program at MARR? 

If someone has come to the attention of a professional board somewhere because of their substance use, or maybe they’re just self-reporting that they have an issue, once they get to MARR they’re going to need advocacy with that board.  So I am a liaison between them and the board. I help with the documentation that they’ll need for their treatment. And sometimes they have ongoing paperwork that they might need to file with that board. That paperwork can last up to five years after treatment for the physicians and the nurses. So I handle that for our professionals, and I help to demystify some of that.

And some professionals might not have a licensure board making them come to MARR, but they might still need support from the professionals program. Some employers send their staff here for treatment even when there is no license involved. Or sometimes entrepreneurs might need help, like “How do I stay in recovery when I work without a lot of accountability as a business owner and when I have a lot of cash that comes through my hands?” So the professionals program provides a place where you can talk about the specific pressures of your profession. 

What themes have you noticed with professionals in treatment at MARR? 

A lot of the professionals come in and they have worked really hard for their careers. Their careers might be the last thing that they let go of during their addiction. They might have lost their family to their addiction, but they’re trying their best to hang on to that licensure or their job because they’ve kind of lost touch with who they are outside of it.

Sometimes they cannot separate who they are from what their job is. Part of the treatment is helping them re-engage with who they are as an individual and redevelop their identity. We help them to see they are not the same person they were when they started grad school. Their addiction has changed them. Their addiction actually traumatizes them in some ways. We help them find out who this new person is. 

Also, as a professional you learn to keep a lot of things private, to not tell your feelings, and to state things factually. A lot of times when people come into treatment, they’re so used to dealing with facts, they’ve lost touch with their heart. And so to say “I’m afraid” is a huge leap. You don’t say that on your job as a professional. You’re still sort of acting like you’re not afraid and that you have everything in control so that your clients will trust you. 

A lot of the professionals have had such incredible stress on their jobs, dealing with the stress of their actual work and also maintaining the unmanageability of addiction at that same time, that they haven’t been sleeping. They might have started drinking to sleep because they work seven days a week. Now with texting and email, an employer may contact them on Sunday afternoons or whatever their off time is. And so sometimes people really don’t have time off in their professional lives.  By the time people get to MARR, they’re psychologically, spiritually, and physically exhausted. 

What is something you would want to communicate to potential professional clients coming into MARR? 

A lot of times professionals can feel like it is just “my problem” or “my secret.” And then they’re amazed when they come to the ARP (Atlanta Recovering Professionals) group that we have on Tuesday nights.

They go to that group, and they find out “I’m not the first doctor in recovery.” Or they find out, “this person has gone on to find new employment.” So it helps them realize that there’s a path forward. They get to see other professionals that are not just surviving in recovery but actually thriving. They will hear other professionals say things like, “I am a much better person than I ever was before treatment.” So it can give a sense of hope that there’s an actual path forward. 

What are some things that clients will receive at MARR that they might not receive elsewhere? 

People here are not just creating relationships with the staff like some other places that use the medical model. Our clients are also creating relationships with their community. You might have a professional come in who’s just used to dealing with people in their particular profession. Like say you’re in the medical field, you only deal with people in the medical field. So then you end up becoming all medical. And so then they come in here, and they’re dealing with a housewife or a young adult that has never really worked. This helps them re-engage with who they used to be before their career. It also helps them to recognize that the medical field isn’t the whole universe. 

The therapeutic community model we use at MARR is very important for professionals. If you have to negotiate grocery shopping and whether you can get your yogurt or not get your yogurt, it changes the dynamics of your communication.  If you’re a professional, you are used to saying something like “take this three times a day,” or whatever it may be. It’s different when you are part of the therapeutic community and you have to go to your community and say “Can I get my yogurt?”  It teaches humility and different communication skills that you might not have used for a long time. 

Our legacies outlive us. Our stories will continue to touch people and places long after we are gone. Our struggles and strength will inspire others when our journeys have come to an end. This is the power and beauty of true community.

Anna Webb Stone came to MARR’s Women’s Recovery Center after several years of struggling with addiction. She became addicted to prescription pain pills in her early twenties when they were prescribed to her after a dental surgery. Her mother, Sandra Webb, went to church with MARR’s founder Donnie Brown and his wife, Sue. The Browns encouraged Sandra through the process of getting her daughter into treatment.

At the age of 6, Anna developed juvenile Type 1 diabetes, and her family was told that she was expected to live for 30 years after the onset of the disease. Although this proved to be a struggle for Anna and her family for her entire life, she was always resilient.

Anna came to MARR in 2009. She finished phase one of treatment and learned a lot about her addiction and about herself. She had a true desire to overcome her addiction and be a better mother to her son. She moved to three-quarters and got a part-time job while still at MARR.

Meanwhile, Sandra participated in MARR’s family workshops to learn how to best support her daughter. She attended a family support group that is still led by Doug Brush every Wednesday night. She says that she truly believes that addiction is a family disease, and family members and their addicted loved ones must each work their own recovery.

Anna eventually made the decision to leave MARR and return home. Her disease continued to progress and she continued to fight. Anna Webb Stone passed away on August 8, 2015 due to complications from a heart attack that she had a few months prior. She was celebrated as a beloved mother, daughter, and friend.

In 2018, Anna’s mother, Sandra Webb, made a generous donation to MARR’s Women’s Recovery Center in her honor. This donation allowed us to expand the main group room and update the kitchen at the WRC.

On May 16, 2019, we dedicated the Anna Webb Stone Room. This space creates an environment for healing and community. Environment is so crucial in treatment. It demonstrates to our clients that they are worth it. This space is for them. Pictured are Cailey Binkley, Director of MARR’s Women’s Recovery Center, and Sandra Webb outside of the new Anna Webb Stone Room.

As part of the ceremony, Jim Seckman read some passages from the Big Book chapter entitled, “Women Suffer Too.”

I went trembling into a house…filled with strangers and I found that I had come home at last.

There is another meaning for the Hebrew word that in the Bible is translated “salvation.” It is: “to come home.” I had found my salvation. I wasn’t alone anymore.

That was the beginning of a new life, a fuller life, a happier life than I had ever known or believed possible.

I had found friends, understanding friends who often knew what I was thinking and feeling better than I knew myself, and didn’t allow me to retreat into my prison of loneliness and fear…

Suddenly, I could accept myself, faults and all, as I was–for weren’t we all like that?

As MARR staff, volunteers, and clients gathered to honor Anna and dedicate the room, there was a sense of purpose in the air. In the midst of despair, there was hope.

For many years to come, women will walk through the door of the Anna Webb Stone Room and discover a place of acceptance, community, and healing. Her legacy will continue to touch lives and inspire others in their journeys of recovery.

By Todd Valentine, LCSW

The Disease of Addiction

Addiction is a chronic, progressive, and deadly disease. It’s a disease that constantly demands more but is never satisfied. In seeking more of the substance, the addict creates a lot of disruption for everyone he or she comes into contact with, particularly within the family system.

The swirling chaos surrounding the addict is the result of trying to feed an emptiness that cannot be filled. The only way to stop this process is the radical shift in perspective and priorities that come through long-term recovery. To help facilitate that shift, the most loving thing that family members can do for their addicted loved one is simple: get out of the way. I should clarify that it’s simple to describe but often feels very difficult to do.

The best antidote to the family disease is setting healthy boundaries. By taking themselves out of the equation, families can stop providing fuel for the chaos. This is the most helpful action a family member can take because it gives the addict an opportunity to confront the reality of his or her disease.

The Effect on the Family

When we think about the miscommunication, constant emergencies, half-truths, outright lies, and continual stress circling around the addict, it’s helpful to use the analogy of a whirlpool. In addition, the brain is thoroughly “rewired” so that the addict is unable to tell the difference many times between self-preservation and self-destruction. Left untreated, the addict’s disease will progress further along in this process.

The change in the addict’s brain chemistry also changes his or her social interactions, centering them around supporting the addiction. This happens in even long-standing and committed relationships.  Consciously or unconsciously, the addict’s relationships will eventually become less important than the substance he or she is dependent on, which will in time become the highest priority.

Don’t Get Pulled In

Another way to put this is that the disease of addiction as it manifests in the addict is a disease of “more.” It demands more of the substance, and to support that overarching need, the addict will demand more money, more emotional support, more time, more of whatever’s available. Everything around the addict gets pulled toward supporting their addiction or getting them out of situations that their addiction has created.

Family members direct their money, energy, attention, and resources toward the addict and their day-to-day emergencies. Sometimes these actions may even seem to help, at least temporarily. But often these resources are not moving the addict toward treatment or a context that allows them to confront the reality of their disease. Rather the family members are helping them move further away from recovery by allowing them to deny the reality and consequences of their addiction.

To return to our analogy, the family members are pulled into the whirlpool of the disease. The entire family system becomes swirling chaos circling an emptiness inside of the addict that everyone is desperately trying to fill. As mentioned earlier, the emptiness can only be treated when the addict enters into recovery. If you don’t understand this process, it makes sense that you would attempt to pull your loved one out of the whirlpool and back on to the shore. But when family members attempt to enable rescue or control, they are venturing into waters that are too strong to go into alone.

By Kirsty D., MARR Alumnus

On August 25, 2008, I walked through the doors of MARR a broken twenty-two-year-old. After witnessing someone close to me die of an overdose and being arrested, my mom bailed me out of jail with a contract that read “I will go to treatment or go back to jail”. I quickly signed the contract and was immediately taken to detox. While in detox, my mom researched long-term treatment options.

I remember trying to persuade my mom to let me go to a 30-day treatment center after she had told me about MARR. 90 days seemed like an eternity! I had my life I needed to get back to. I was facing multiple court charges in several counties, had just been kicked out of my apartment and was in the depths of my disease. Alcohol and drugs were a necessity in order for me to function on a day-to-day basis.

I only agreed to come to MARR to get my mom off of my back and to get my court cases dismissed. I really had no intentions on staying sober. Thankfully, God had a different plan. I completed MARR’s halfway program and decided to stay in their three-quarters sober living. That was one of the best decisions I ever made. I ended up staying at MARR for a total of 13 months (even though 90 days was an eternity). At some point along the way at my time at MARR, I surrendered and decided to give recovery a shot. The little bit of willingness I had helped God work through me and changed my life forever.

Throughout my time at MARR I was given so many gifts. I learned about my disease and was introduced to a 12-Step program that offered a solution. I learned how to feel and sort through the feelings I had been stuffing for years and years. I learned how to have integrity and most importantly, how to have fun without drugs and alcohol. I learned how to love myself and how to be a good friend. My life isn’t controlled by when or how I’m going to get my next fix and that’s a miracle! MARR helped me grow up to become a healthier and happier woman.

I remember sitting in groups with alumni that had years of sobriety thinking how impossible it felt to get that much time. I wondered how I was going to get through my wedding without alcohol or go to a concert without getting messed up. They shared their experiences and gave me so much hope. I moved out of MARR into a house not far from the Women’s Recovery Center with three of the girls I lived with in three-quarters. Everyone joked and called our house four-quarters. We remained very involved with MARR for years.

Throughout the years, I still try to stay involved with the women in MARR. I have volunteered in the Thursday Spirituality Group up until I had my daughter 8 months ago, and I took a year off after I had my son, too. It was such a big deal for me to see the support the alumni gave me when I was in MARR, I really try to do the same. I want to show the new lady walking in, broken and sad like I was, that recovery is possible and a beautiful life is waiting for her if she is willing to do the work.

I got married in 2011 and had a DRY wedding. It was so much fun, filled with people in recovery. We danced the night away and alcohol wasn’t even a thought in my mind. I have two beautiful kids, who, God-willing, never have to see me drunk or high, as long as I continue to do the things I was taught when I first came in. I’m learning how to balance being a mom, a wife, an employee and a friend and none of that would be possible if it weren’t for MARR. As long as I make my recovery the top priority, my life will continue to be great. It’s like “they” say, my life isn’t always rainbows and butterflies, but I know today that a drink or drug will never make anything better, always worse.

I know, without a shadow of doubt, if it weren’t for MARR and the staff at the Women’s Recovery Center, I wouldn’t be where I am today. MARR saved my life and I will be forever grateful for their program.

Addiction is an isolating disease. Although drug and alcohol use may begin in a social setting, chemical dependency eventually results in isolation. To keep up with the demands of the addiction, a person necessarily detaches from family and friends. Seclusion triggers loneliness and depression, and the addict suppresses these painful feelings with drugs and alcohol. The cycle is relentless.

Clients are brought out of isolation as soon as they come to MARR. Our counseling staff helps the clients learn to facilitate healthy relationships through the use of the community model. Community members share their life stories with one another, assist housemates in developing a contract of personal goals, and attend 12-Step meetings as a group. 

Even seemingly insignificant tasks take on a therapeutic dimension. Grocery shopping, cleaning, or figuring out transportation provide opportunities to practice honest, respectful communication as a way of life. The constant practice the clients receive through navigating daily community life at MARR allows them to carry these skills back to their families, professional settings, places of worship, and any other communities they participate in.

We want our clients to take the relationship skills they learned at MARR into their lives outside of treatment. But that transition is painful and also frightening for the client. The bonds that clients form during treatment are strong. They create a sense of safety.

Fortunately MARR maintains a strong alumni network and clients frequently maintain their relationships with fellow alumni and counselors after completing treatment. But what those relationships look like will change when they are no longer in treatment. Their counselors and community members will still be available to them but will not be the constant presence that they were in treatment.  

Acknowledging that the relationships they have formed are going to look different as they transition out of treatment is a difficult process. But rather than avoiding that pain and allowing clients to slip out unannounced, we emphasize the importance of saying goodbye.

We believe meaningful goodbyes at the end of treatment honor the healthy relationships that have been established. Thoughtful, intentional goodbyes allow for reflection and an appreciation of the importance of connection in their recovery. Goodbyes also provide necessary closure for the recovering addict and community members. Emotional wounds surrounding abandonment are common among addicts and alcoholics; therefore, verbal farewells appropriately acknowledge the relationships and the connections made.

During Goodbye Week, the clients address each person (including volunteers and counselors) in every group throughout the week prior to successfully completing the program. Once the client reflects on what that individual has meant to him or her during treatment, the addressee reciprocates. Both parties feel a sense of loss but also liberation from the meaningful exit.

Life is full of changes. To the recovering addict, change yields fear; fear can lead to relapse. Saying goodbye is an important part of relationships. MARR offers the opportunity for clients to experience healthy relationships and goodbyes, both of which are vital for lasting recovery.