You awaken with a start, drenched in sweat, heart racing. A quick glance at the clock tells you it’s 2:18 am. You begin to piece together the events from the night before. One glass of chardonnay turned into two, which turned into a bottle. The way your head is pounding and your stomach is churning you know that it didn’t end once the bottle was empty. You remember picking a fight with your partner over something stupid and then flipping on the TV (loudly) when he wouldn’t engage. Then….nothing. You can’t remember what show you watched or how you got into bed. The rest of the night is erased.
The voice comes next. You know the one. The voice that tells you you’re a failure for drinking again when you swore you wouldn’t. The voice that reminds you of all the times you’ve failed before. The voice that convinces you that you are broken in a way no one else on this planet is broken and makes you believe that you will never be free of the chains this substance has wound around your life. You know this voice well. It’s the same voice that’s been telling you for years that you’re weak-willed for not being able to get it under control. Every time you’ve tried to make a change or do something bold, it’s told you that you’re too stupid or too proud, too heavy or too thin, too loud or too quiet. It speaks in extremes and it seeks to destroy your confidence and self-compassion. It tries to beat you into submission. It tries to keep you small. And you listen because you believe that this is the only way to get better. The only way to improve is to berate yourself until you feel so badly about yourself that you magically transform. Except you never do transform. Or if you do, it only lasts a day, or a week, or, if your resolve is unusually strong, an excruciating month.
The world around us seems to corroborate the story we’re telling ourselves. It tells us we should be able to “drink normally.” It tells us that we should rely on alcohol to celebrate, grieve, manage stress, alleviate boredom, and connect with one another, but don’t go so far that you rely on it or people will think you have a problem. Our partners and friends may echo the same sentiments. Telling us we need to buckle down and try harder. Just do it and quit drinking already.
Many old recovery paradigms echo this “just do it” sentiment, urging individuals to power through challenges with sheer determination, moving people “forward” with whips of guilt and shame. More modern approaches, thankfully, have begun to place a strong emphasis on self-compassion, recognizing the need to love oneself through the journey. Personally, I think the road to sustainable recovery lies somewhere between the extremes of “just do it” and “just love yourself.”
There are many valuable things to take from the more traditional recovery modalities. We need to remember the times when alcohol took us down a dark path. We need the voice in the back of our minds reminding us of the guilt and shame we felt from our drinking. There is value in hearing that we have to take action to get well. Sometimes it’s helpful to hear, “Just do it already.” The problem is that guilt, shame, and shape-shifting are fickle motivators.
There are also valuable messages in the modern paradigms that encourage us to hold compassion for ourselves no matter what. It’s important to recognize that we aren’t failures for getting addicted to an addictive substance. It’s imperative to know that, generally speaking, we’re doing the best we can in every given moment. And seeing our recovery as a path, a process, rather than an “on/off” switch or a destination, is vital to our success. The challenge of this “just love yourself” approach is that it can be missing some much-needed accountability.
The middle ground of compassionate accountability holds onto the best parts of each of these models of recovery. It honors the need to learn from our past and make bold commitments to take care of the future. Simultaneously, it allows for slips and missteps to occur without making it mean we’re terrible human beings.
In practice, compassionate accountability involves setting realistic and achievable goals, acknowledging that progress isn’t always linear. Instead of a rigid “Just do it” mentality, it encourages us to commit to actions that align with our recovery goals. These commitments, however, are made with an understanding that life is unpredictable, and setbacks are a natural part of the process.
Another aspect of compassionate accountability is the cultivation of a positive inner dialogue. Rather than berating ourselves for perceived failures, we learn to speak to ourselves with kindness and encouragement. This involves recognizing that everyone faces challenges and that setbacks don’t define us. It’s about fostering self-compassion, understanding that growth often comes with moments of stumbling.
Finally, and most importantly, compassionate accountability embraces the power of learning from slips. Instead of viewing a slip as a failure, we explore the factors that led to it, gaining insights that inform how we handle our next craving. This approach transforms setbacks into valuable lessons, emphasizing that this is a journey and we’re evolving along the way.
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