When it's hard to hope

Have you seen the John Oliver clip about the opioid epidemic?  He provides statistics, (30,000 people in the US die each year from an overdose), he analyzes the pharmaceutical companies’ role, and he skewers their misinformation about how addictive prescriptive painkillers can be.

The sad recital of these facts always raises a bigger question for me—Why? Now that I work with young adult addicts who are in the earliest stages of recovery, I’m feeling the weight of this epidemic as well as the need to understand the context. In her newest book, Tears to Triumph, Marianne Williamson contextualizes individual problems within our society and challenges us to ask connected questions. She writes, “Someone is depressed over a child having died of a drug overdose. The collective issue is, what kind of society have we created where so many young people are rushing to drugs to begin with?”

Of course, there’s some need that draws a young teen towards drugs— wanting to belong, soothing a pain, or numbing abuse by trusted adults.  But I too wonder about the spiritual vacuum in this society, the lack of community, and stratification by age that prevents us from weaving a safety net of connection.

It’s heartbreaking to hear about someone dying of a drug overdose. It’s heartbreaking to hear of the relapses that happen in early recovery, for every one of those is a potential death. As a spiritual director, I find it challenging to offer comfort to people who often have no belief system to make meaning of these untimely deaths.  Would it help to see this as part of a larger cultural failing?

Growing up, I had plenty of adults in my life, teachers I looked up to, people in church, neighbors, my parents’ bridge partners, my friends’ parents, and the shopkeepers in our small town. I remember my dad and I discussing drugs when I was 15. I found comfort in his saying he hoped he knew me well enough to recognize when something was different. I felt known and truly seen, and I think that helped.

This is not about assigning blame. This is an inquiry into what avenues of hope are available to a generation that is dying way too young. I want to demonstrate that recovery can provide a good and full life. But I’m old, I’ve been sober for many years, and my drugs were not opioids, so when I tell my story it’s hard for them to find parallels.

I hope every single young person in recovery knows how necessary you are.  Any outreach you do at treatment and detox centers, schools and gathering places helps. I hope you sponsor as soon as your sponsor says you can. Your story is the one that resonates. Your strength lights a path, and your joy may be the best seed of hope for us all.