Meet the Committee:
(A Committee of One)
Do you think people with cancer wake up in the morning and the disease tells them they don’t have cancer? Not likely. Do you think people with heart disease wake up in the morning and the disease tells them they don’t have heart disease? I don’t think so. Do you think people with diabetes wake up in the morning and the disease tells them they don’t have diabetes? Hardly. But this is exactly what addiction does to the addict. Every day of your early recovery, the disease acting as the “committee of one”, speaks to you; gnaws at you; cajoles; reasons; pleads; demands; ridicules; demeans, and in every possible way tries to undermine your efforts to build clean time. Why? Simple, your addiction has a mission. And its mission is to see you dead. And it will not rest until it has succeeded in this mission. How does it do this? What does it say to you? Listen. Does any of this sound familiar?
- “You’re not really an addict. Although you have had years and years of consequences and problems, now after a period of clean time, you really do know how to handle your pills. This time it will definitely be different.”
- “Many of the problems you had when you were using pills really had nothing to do with the pills. Now that those problems are no longer around (your wife, your job, your girlfriend), you will be able to use normally.”
- “Under pressure from others, you’ve really magnified your memory of the problems you had. It really wasn’t as bad as everybody is making it out to be.”
- “Let’s be honest. You will never be able to go your whole life without some kind of illicit drugs (I don’t care what those people say about ‘a day at a time’) so why are you torturing yourself. You’re going to use at some point. That point might as well be today”.
- “You’re really too sick to stay sober: too much water under the bridge. Recovery might work for others, but it will never work for you. They’re not as sick as you.”
And this is only the stuff that your disease tells you regarding your drug use. How about the stuff about resentments, insecurities, perceived slights and rebuffs, the problems of the world, (“everything is so screwed up – the only reasonable response from a ‘caring’ and ‘concerned’ citizen of the planet is to use drugs, and let everyone go to hell”). Then there’s your own extreme sensitivity (“pills are my only armor- without them I’ll die- or commit suicide- so by using pills. I’m actually saving my life”).
The voices of the committee are very persuasive and very insidious. They know our deepest fears and weaknesses. They know which messages will resonate and which won’t. If you don’t share with a counselor or family member what the voices are saying to you (which of course the voices are telling you not to do- “don’t tell anyone what you’re thinking. They don’t care. They won’t understand. They’ll think your nuts. They won’t like you”), the implied truth and credibility of the voices will grow. The voices will seem reasonable; you will have very little defense against their perceptiveness.
Never underestimate the power of the illness. In addition to being cunning, baffling and powerful*, it has another killer characteristic: It is patient. It has all the time in the world. It’s not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere. It’s willing to wait as long as it takes. It will never be happy that you’re in recovery, and it’s willing to appear dormant and disarmed in order to lull you into the complacency it believes will be required to get you back. Never underestimate the power of what it is you’re up against. On the other hand, building recover is doable. It’s been done by others, and will be done by you. Just give it the effort you gave your using.
* Credit the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous.
