The Cruelty of Addiction
Audio version now available.
When the gifts are purchased and wrapped, the dinner is planned, the tree is trimmed, and the cookies are baked, I might grind the gears a little as I down shift out of my hussle-culture existence, but I can get slowed down into holiday mode. Now, in the week between, I’ve got to check my own pulse to make sure I’m alive.
As a drinker, and in early sobriety, I sought an elusive perfection in the holiday season, and always started the new year disappointed. Now I seek peace and contentment, friendship and family. I’ve surrounded myself with people I love this past week. I want to carry this warm feeling with me as I shift back up through the gears into business as usual. Business as usual, but with a lingering feeling of love, and a foundational knowledge that I’m blessed and everything will be OK.
But even as I lounge in my living room and stare at a slowly browning tree, I’m worried. I’m worried that nothing will linger and there will be no sustainable sense of assurance.
It’s hard to hang on to peacefulness in a country dominated by cruelty.
I promised a reader, a financial supporter of our nonprofit organization, that I wouldn’t take shots at President Trump that are not directly related to our mission and our areas of expertise. I also understand the Michael Jordan doctrine: “Republican’s buy sneakers, too.”
The thing that makes this presidency different than any other in my lifetime is the overt cruelty that is even more glaring during the holidays. And it is resulting in strained family relationships, a lack of confidence in the future of our democracy, and an underlying ambiance of hopelessness among the American people that is exacerbating the epidemic of addiction. In alcoholism recovery, we talk a lot about the fuck it moments when, as drinkers, we drop our resistance and white knuckling and drink with wreckless abandon. Our country, regardless of political orientation, or political idolatry for that matter, is experiencing a collective fuck it moment. Just try having a happy new year.
I have heard the counter arguments when Trump’s penchant for dishonesty is highlighted. “All presidents lie,” his MAGA defenders say. And they are right. Reagan lied about the Iran Contras. Bush the first did, in fact, raise taxes despite demanding that we read his lips’ commitment to the contrary. Clinton lied about Lewinski. Bush II was, at best, ignorant about the lack of WMDs. Obama promised to close Gitmo immediately upon inauguration, but some president-level information changed his mind. Biden promised not to pardon the son he pardoned. They lie. They all lie. Sheer volume aside, Trump is not worse than the rest with his detachment from fidelity to the truth.
But none of them were cruel. Trump is cruel. As an active alcoholic, I was cruel. I said despicable things to my wife–things I would never dream of saying (or even thinking) in long-term sobriety. Trump is an addict. His poison is not a substance, it is power. More specifically, he is addicted to receiving external validation in the form of compliments and admiration, even when the adoration is obviously observed by rational witnesses to be manipulation intended to soothe his non-existent self-esteem. Let’s refer to it as a power addiction to keep it simple. He has a toxic addiction to power, and his cruel behavior is evidence.
Until his murder a couple of weeks ago, I had no idea the degree to which Rob Reiner had touched my life. I did not share his political views. I am a fiscal conservative with enough understanding of history to know that when empires carry debt that exceeds their productivity, empires fall. Just ask the Romans. Or the Greeks. Not the current Greeks, the ancient Greeks who are extinct because of their debt.
But I digress. I’m just sick of being called a progressive every time I call out Trump’s power addiction. I am a fiscal conservative who was cruel when I was an addict.
Cruelty is a clear indication of addiction.
So while I didn’t share Reiner’s politics, I am forever grateful for his exquisite abilities as a storyteller. Until his death, I did not know he directed arguably all of the most important movies in his genres. Of course I knew he directed This is Spinal Tap because he was a supporting actor in This is Spinal Tap. I did not realize he directed the coming of age movie for my generation, Stand By Me. Or the pinnacle of all romcoms, When Harry Met Sally. I am a sucker for movies with great speeches, and I was shocked to learn he directed my favorite political drama, The American President. And of course, his fantastical classic, Princess Bride, is a favorite in my family. Until the tributes that followed his death, I did not realize the extent to which Rob Reiner was woven into our cultural fabric. I never thought of Meathead as important. Now I know he was a legend that impacted my life. I’m not in the habit of worshiping Hollywood stars, but I am mourning a little bit. Our country should be unified in a little mourning, or at least compassion for his family.
And that’s why it was heartbreaking to hear Trump attack Reiner for his political activism even before his slain body was cold. The cruelty coming from the one person who occupies the office that we have always looked to for delivery of unifying messages in times of national grief makes me sad. Really sad.
If your knee-jerk reaction to that last paragraph is to ask me why I didn’t write about my sadness when Charlie Kirk died, please unsubscribe from our email list. If that’s what my sadness conjures in you, I’ve lost all hope that we will return to the glory of a country of the boldly curious. You are not listening. I can’t reach you.
My sadness isn’t about Rob Reiner. My sadness is because cruelty is an undiscriminating weapon. Like all of us, I’m the victim of the collateral damage of a man’s addiction. We are victims of the consequences of an addiction suffered by the most powerful man in the world. We all are. The enablers just can’t see it yet.
As they should, as they always do, addiction and enabling make me sad. And it is particularly hard to make the love of the holidays linger when faced with the cruelty of addiction.
If you have left your addiction to alcohol behind, and you are boldly curious about what your growth and recovery might bring, we hope you’ll consider joining us in SHOUT Sobriety. We never talk about politics in our groups, but we do address our own authentic truth.
10 Comments
Thanks for writing about all of this, Matt. I’ll try not to belabor the politics, but will say I was also saddened by Rob Reiner’s death, itself the unimaginable and terrifying toll of addiction. And I was sickened by trump’s response to it. But I was not surprised. The cruelty is the point. It has always been the point.
May I suggest it’s a good time for a Princess Bride re-watch? I’ve already done mine! It’s a balm and a testament to the powers of creativity and positive engagement with the world. And we’ll always have it.
Lots of love to you and the whole family!
Thank you for highlighting the point. Somehow the cruelty gets lost in the red and blue tribal spitball fight. As a guy without a team, the cruelty is a glaring non-starter to compromise. And January and Princess Bride seem a match made in heaven.
Great blog, Matt! I’ve never looked at Trump as addicted to power, but he clearly is. Knowing that Trump doesn’t drink, I’ve thought of him as a dry drunk.
You mentioned his lack of self-esteem. This is so important because without it, you can’t be accountable and humble, so you blame others and end up being very cruel.
You also can’t be happy and content.
My joy and contentment flows up and down with my self-esteem for sure. Good point, Jason!
Matt your framing of Trump as addicted to power, is so simple, so obvious and explains everything. Explains not justifies I hasten to add. It doesn’t lessen the terrifying impact of seeing a power addict at the highest levels of influence but perhaps it offers an opening of sorts in our collective consciousness to stop enabling and colluding with the cruelty.
I hope so. It’s not about policy or politics.
So true for me Matt…yes the lying (regardless of source) used to bother me, but the insults have far eclipsed that. They’d make me lose faith in humans, if I’d let them. The hatred and animosity regardless of circumstance is sickening. He is the extreme version of “king baby syndrome”…normalizing the crazy, the cruel, the lack of filter or sense of adult (not even presidential) responsibility or civility or social appropriateness. Unfortunately, because of his power position and his example, I fear it is beginning to define us as a country/society. Even being a moderate, which I am, seems to engender a little hostility and suspicion from both sides. Easy to feel alone in such an environment. Remembering I’m not alone is feeling connected, and this group – this family, with you as its leader, is doing just that for so many.
I share your concern that our biggest fear should be that we are normalizing the cruel behavior. That is terrifying.
Love your input and writing.
I suspect the outcome of this behavior is out of our control, but it is horrible to watch it play out. We will as people, and as Americans, hopefully choose a better path, sometimes it starts with a small rock, and then the ripple effects start. Apparently, we all need to send out our ripples, and when they meet, may they form into a better one. That is my hope and prayer for us, and our country.
I sincerely appreciate the visualization, and your hopefulness. Thank you for reading and sharing, Marci!