Connection is the Cure
In his excellent book on addiction, Chasing the Scream: The First and Last Days of the War on Drugs, Johann Hari describes a set of scientific experiments performed in the late 1970s and 1980s that have come to be known as “Rat Park.” Rats had previously been used to establish the addictiveness of various drugs, where they were placed alone in a cage with food, water, and a bottle of some type of drug. With each test, the rats would find the drug and then drink it. Then they’d drink more. And more. Eventually these rats would neglect all else, including food and sleep, until they died. Scientists pointed to this experiment to show how destructive addiction can be in someone’s life.
But, in the Rat Park experiment discussed by Hari, the scientists made an important tweak. Instead of placing the rats in solitary confinement with the drug, the rats were placed in cages with other rats. These rats still had access to the drug, but they also had access to community. These experiments showed that the isolated rats consumed five times more morphine than the rats living in community. Building off of this experiment, the scientists then placed rats in solitary confinement with the drug, to ensure that they became adequately hooked. Then, after 57 days alone with the drug, the rats were moved to Rat Park. Stunningly, in community the morphine-addicted rats stopped using.
The Rat Park experiments suggested what so many others have learned through experience in 12-step groups and other fellowships—connection is the cure.
When I was in active addiction, my life—on the surface—appeared to be full of connection. I had friends I spent a lot of time with. I was involved in a church. And, my wife and I spent a lot of time together. But, the problem was I wasn’t known. My lies had put me in the equivalent of solitary confinement. In my interior reality—where my fears and shame lived—I was utterly alone. I let no one in.
I have discussed elsewhere the importance of getting into groups to break out of this isolation. But, based on my observation, the single most important thing that distinguishes those who find sobriety and those who do not is making phone calls.
Meetings help break you out of isolation and shame, but they are just the beginning. Until you pick up the phone and reach out to someone, until you go back-and-forth with someone about what is really going on inside of you real time, you are not getting the full benefits of connection. When we are triggered, when we are emotionally flooded, when we are confused, we are vulnerable. Being vulnerable is what we have been running from, but it is also the place where we are the most open to connection. It is in these times we need to make a phone call.
I know how difficult this is. When I was in treatment, they told us that in early recover it was a ten-thousand pound telephone. Truer words have never been spoken. But, the more you pick it up, the lighter it gets. And, there is a beautiful reward on the other end of that line. The fact is that when we are at our most vulnerable (triggered, flooded, confused), we can bring in a different voice than the voice of shame in our head. In the process, we can have the healing experience of being heard and loved in that place.
