I recently ran across an old TV clip from Two and a Half Men, back when Charlie Sheen still starred:
The character Jake is kneeling at the toilet, throwing up after drinking.
Charlie says, “You know, your body is sending you a message… that alcohol is poison.”
“Then why do you drink?” counters Jake.
“Because,” says Charlie, “I have things inside of me that I need to kill.”
Isn’t it amazing how profound truth can creep into something so banal as a TV sit-com?
Technically, alcohol is poison, which is why you can die from over-drinking. But I was even more struck by Charlie’s explanation for why we pursue self-destructive compulsions: “I have things inside of me that I need to kill.”
It’s one of the great paradoxes of addiction. On the one hand, it’s characterized by the pursuit of pleasure at any cost, and it reeks of self-love. On the other hand, every binge, bong hit, or burger bender proves nothing so much as that we hate—and want to hurt—some part of ourselves.
During my drinking days, I didn’t understand this. I knew that I hated myself because of the things alcohol made me do. But I couldn’t see how my drinking itself was a manifestation of the very self-loathing I drank to drown.
For years, I starred in my own sit-com rerun, except it wasn’t funny: See Heather hate herself. See Heather drink to feel better. See Heather hate herself even more…
How did I ever escape the vicious cycle?
I recently revisited this question when a desperate alcoholic pleaded with me in an email: “Heather, if you have the ANSWER, please share it!”
For a second there I actually racked my brain. Like there was a simple solution I forgot to mention.
But all I have is my story. All I know is that one ordinary morning back in 2007, hung-over and horrified by what my life had become, I fell sobbing to my knees by my bed and made my full surrender, something I’d genuinely tried—and failed—to do so many times before.
So what got me across the line this time? In some ways, it’s a still a mystery to me. But here’s what I know for sure. It wasn’t my enormous self-hate; if anything, it was an experience of God’s overwhelming love in the face of my shame.
We often remind each other in Christian circles, “It’s God’s kindness that leads us to repentance.” But I’m not sure we really believe that it’s true. Instead, so many of us try to hate ourselves sober—only to experience the talons of addiction digging deeper into our souls.
If you’re one of those people who feels stuck in an endless cycle of trying harder and praying longer and repenting until you’re blue in the face—only to fall on your face again… you might try this. Instead of struggling to let go of your substance, see if you can’t let go of self-loathing.
If you can, get on your knees by your bed. And then in your mind crawl across those sharp rocks of shame to where a waterfall of God’s mercy thunders down without reason or measure, and put your head under it until nothing else makes sense.
Cry out for help like a person dying—because maybe you finally are.
Maybe this is what it takes to kill what you hate—not more hate, but an encounter with Love so great that you can’t receive it without letting go of everything else, including your life, your will, your way.
When you finally get up off your knees, let God wrap you in a towel and be quiet with him for a while.
Then go to a recovery meeting. Or check into treatment. Or tell a friend.
In a very real sense, your life has just begun.
***
P.S. If you’re one of those fortunate folks who is already in recovery, I have some something to say to you, too.
Self-hate can’t keep you sober any more than it can get you there. And nothing will drag you back into the ditch of addiction faster than listening to the voice that says you can’t change, you’re not doing it right, and you don’t deserve to be sober.
Resist that voice, friend.
Find the waterfall again. And let God’s kindness lead you forward on the path of grace.
***
Since this post is already way too long, I’ll close with this from the Psalm 145: 8-9
The Lord is gracious and full of compassion,
Slow to anger and great in mercy.
The Lord is good to all,
And His tender mercies are over all His works.
And this poem from the 13th century poet, Hafiz:
Once a young woman said to me, “Hafiz, what
is the sign of someone who knows God?”
I became very quiet, and looked deep into her
eyes, then replied
“My dear, they have dropped the knife. Someone
who knows God has dropped the cruel knife
that most so often use upon their tender self
and others.”
A truly wonderful inspiring post Heather! I love the quote from Two & a Half Men! Fabulous! Thanks for sharing that..Plus the idea you shared of placing your head under the waterfall of God’s love until you can’t hear anything else is just mind-blowingly beautiful and profound!! Blessings to you!
nailed it. wow.
thank you for your vulnerability. your words are pure light.
Just stumbled across your site today and this post struck me so deep! Thank you for sharing!
xo TJ
I seem to agree with almost everything that was put into writing in “How to Fall Out of Hate
With Yourself – Heather Kopp”. Thank you for pretty much all the tips.
Thanks a lot-Connie
When we feel ugly, we have a hard time being around those whom we believe care about that stuff. (Remember high school?) Your post reminds me God doesn’t see ugly. He just sees me. He doesn’t see me as a rebel, but as a bleeding person. If God looked at me from the self-interested, judgmental perspective of a high schooler, I’d be finished. He doesn’t, though. Your picture of One who wraps me in His care is powerful. Thank you.
The voice that says, “You can’t change, you’re not doing it right, and you don’t deserve to be sober,” is the voice of the Accuser. And what makes his accusation so powerful is that it contains an element of truth. The way to resist that voice is not necessarily to say, “No, no, no, that is not true!” Rather it is to bring the truth in the accusation to the waterfall, to say “Yes, but!”
- Yes, on my own I cannot change myself, but I know one who loves me and promises to change me when I come to him.
- Yes, I often don’t do it right, but I know one who forgives me and empowers me to do it more right all the time, in company with my brothers and sisters.
- Yes, I do not deserve to be sober, but I am loved by one who gives me far more than I deserve, all the time.
Brilliant comment, Norm! Thanks so so much.
On Thu, Jan 31, 2013 at 10:47 AM, Heather Kopp
While I was actively alcoholic, my self-hatred made perfect sense. Each new day provided me with evidence that this was a logical response. My secret life, all the lies (whether outright or lies of omission), and the pain I caused for those who loved me. As I began doing the work necessary for recovery, no matter what, it seemed I always fell so short. My sponsor, in her immense wisdom, had me explain to her what personal standards I would need to live up to, in order to release this self loathing. When I did, she asked if I expected others to live up to those standards as well. Of course not, I replied. These were just for me. As my self-esteem was in the basement, I was astounded when she stated “How arrogant! Who are you that you should be living a life of higher standards than anyone else”? Over time, I can tell you that all days are not equal, but my self-esteem grows, living an authentic life, and taking esteem building actions. As always, thank you for your honesty and insight. You are a daily part of my gratitude list.
Martha, I LOVE this! What a great idea. I’m so gonna borrow that! Thanks so much for sharing here with me and being part of my blog. My readers often get more out of comments than the post itself, and readers like you are why. Thank you.
This is the post Dave hated? Makes me happy to be a woman, because I liked it. So there.
Ha. He’ll love that. Actually, it’s a lot better now that Dave’s reaction made me take a step back, post something else–and revisit it. It’s still got everything but the kitchen the sink going on, but it is what it is. I must have needed to write it and maybe someone needed to read it. Thanks so much for taking time to respond here and encourage me, Katherine.
I come from the family side, and that does not mean I medicated any less. It just means that I medicated with other things. My side of the disease was killing me as well… back surgery, high blood pressure, dramatic weight loss, migraines… all kinds of physical symptoms.
The things I learned to do to keep me safe were not working anymore. I could not control and manipulate my environment anymore (the illusion), and wherever I went or whatever I tried, I was still there. Struggling to make sense of myself in this world.
The thing about surrender for me is that I also needed a group of people on the same path to show me how to live a surrendered life… one day at a time.
Thanks for this helpful reminder that the alcoholics and addicts aren’t the only ones who are powerless over these substances–so are those around us powerless to fix the addict or control the progression. The three most important words in your comment are “group of people.” Which is why I write so much about the importance of community. It’s the heart of recovery no matter what you are recovering from! Thanks so much for this note.
So beautifully written, Heather. There is someone special I want to share this with.
I LOVE hearing that Barb. Music to my ears. I always write this kind of post thinking of that someone special who needs it most of all perhaps and who is probably not reading my blog. So bless you for caring enough about this person to take the chance of passing on this piece. I hope it speaks to him or her and plants a seed. Hugs, H
On Wed, Jan 30, 2013 at 10:24 AM, Heather Kopp
Heather…..In my humble opinion, no, your post wasn’t too long it was just right. Thank you for this place, and for opening the door here to God’s healing and grace. I am praying for my dear brother right now and ask that you lift him up. He is destroying himself with his drinking and everyday I wish there was something I could do to convince him that there is something better, that he is worth that something better, and that it will not be the end of his life if he gives up drinking. I really believe that he feels that it will be. Thank you so for your words of compassion. Lori
Oh, thanks Lori! So amazing that you’d say this about your brother, because just this morning I was thinking about how much I want and need to tell the other side of the story–more about what it’s like on this side of recovery, how wonderful it is. That’s something I wanted to hear and know when I was drinking, but all the memoirs I read ended when the person decided to get help, which convinced me that sobriety itself was nothing to write home about. I am SO sorry about your brother! I have a brother who is alcoholic too, but is dry off and on and I’m guessing is way too proud to join us, and I can’t help but wonder if having his sister having already “claimed” this gig of recovery doesn’t make it harder for him to even consider it. I think in some cases, family in recovery is contagious and spreads–but in other cases, it can be harder for the sibling to pipe up and say, “ME too!” I’m praying for your bro right this second. Thanks so much for sharing, Lori.
I love Hafiz reply “my dear…” the entire quote. Love that.
I know it! I hesitated to quote him again since I just did the other day, but I couldn’t resist. That poem was just too perfect.
Home run. (like you couldn’t already tell)
Ha. Thanks Sharon. I don’t know about a home run, but I love that people can appreciate a post that’s a bit all over the board and starts with Charlie Sheen and ends with Hafiz. I lost all my fb repost counts because I changed the title, so I’m especially grateful for comments that let me know it’s going over okay. I try not to care, but I do. And to be honest, this post was close to my heart, in part because it was so difficult to write. Your encouragement means a lot.
“So what got me across the line this time? In some ways, it’s a still a mystery to me. But here’s what I know for sure. It wasn’t my enormous self-hate; if anything, it was an experience of God’s overwhelming love in the face of my shame.”
I can relate to this to the letter.
Love hearing that. Thanks for taking time to tell me!
I’ve never struggled with addiction or substance abuse per se, but my self-loathing spirals into depression, anxiety, perfectionism. Oh, and “checking out” by surfing the Internet. Maybe those things are forms of addiction. I love the God’s words when Jesus was baptized: “You are my beloved child in whom am well pleased.” I hang on to those words when I spiral into self-loathing.
Karen, you so right that addiction isn’t issue–self-hate is. But since I write to so many in recovery, I tend to sort of lean into that angle. I love that many of my readers aren’t in recovery and they still totally relate. That’s what I hope for! These are all human problems not addict problems. I love the words you cling to. I too cling to the knowledge that I’m God’s beloved and impossible as it seems, he’s actually pleased with me.
I love that poem. And the illustration, I find inspiration in a lot of different places. Stephen King’s stories hold some of my favorite inspirational quotes. Oddly enough.
That was an amazing post. Thank you.
Cathy, thanks so much. Means a lot.
Absolutely love! The writer of that particular Two and a Half Men episode had some experience, eh? What a great reminder that nearly every indulgence (I can think of) really does stem from a lack of really knowing our true self, let alone loving what we find there. Kudos. Have a blessed day!
Amy, the part you said about lack of knowing our true self is something I wanted to write about here–what is it we hate in us?–it’s that constructed, false self that is led around by the nose by our ego. But that’s a whole other post and this one was already overloaded… So I love your comment. Its amazing how I can count on my wise readers to fill in gaps I leave! Love that.
Thanks for this, Heather…like, really. (It made me smile as well…I remembered what you said about in your previous post.)
Yeah, I kind of set myself up there, didn’t I? And you see, the waterfall is still there… It’s an everything but the kitchen sink post, but it’s what I wanted to say. And Dave’s response was great because it gave me the delay I needed to figure out better what that was. God is always at work–even through Dave, especially through Dave.
Indeed. Go, Dave.
Again! So fitting. Hate didn’t get me sobe, it can’t keep me sober and it won’t do a damn thing for me on my journey of healing from abuse either. More hate, more abuse, will never heal the hurt. I need to remember that when my students try my patience. Anger and indifference aren’t going to help. But a kind word or one gentle moment can.
Marjie, I’m so glad you resonated with this. I love your response–and it’s so true that this principle extends so far beyond recovery.
So helpful, Heather, and so dead-on…This is my year of surrendering, more and more, to God’s love. Thanks for the encouragement along the Way.
Oh thank you, Lisa! I think Surrender is one of my favorite topics of all time. Seriously. Almost every problem I ever haves back to that as an answer in some way.
Self loathing flourishes in the soil of shame as we grow trees of addiction, performance, selfishness and self absorption, hedonism, materialism, power through control, and so on. Some trees look ugly, and others can look attractive to uninformed outsiders, but these trees bear the fruit of destruction, of self and others.
Not too long ago, I heard someone say that many of the truths of life (reality as God sees it) come to us as seeds. If we plant them in the soil of His love and acceptance, a process ensues in the atmosphere of grace that grows that seed into a giant oak, a tree planted by the water…..
Tom, what a lovely response. I love the idea that we plant seeds in the soil of his love and acceptance. That just makes so much sense. Thanks for your insights this morning.
I’ve been pondering Louise Hay’s quote, “Never ever criticize yourself for anything.” Your post is more of the same and just what I need. Thanks, Heather.
I’m so glad you liked it. I never heard Hay’s quote before. Interesting. I want her to expound! I appreciate your encouragement so much. I lost ALL my fb likes when I changed the title of the post and silly me, I rely on those little signs that people like a post–but I do still have all my comments. Why should it matter? When will I get over caring how many people like a post? At least I don’t EVER check my stats anymore. That was a real invitation to my ego to screech and stomp and obsess. Sigh. I’m still growing, right?
Oh, she expounds, Heather, in her book titled “You Can Heal Your Life.” Hay talks all about self-acceptance, self-love and more.
My like is still up there so I guess I pressed extra hard. Let me know how long it takes to get over wanting other’s approval. I’d love to know.
Im gonna check that book out. Thanks so much!
On Wed, Jan 30, 2013 at 9:08 AM, Heather Kopp
My soberversary is February 9, 2007. I see that your beginning was also the same year.
Cool! I’m telling you, 2007 is a lucky year to get sober. Thanks for reading.
OMG! We’re kin! I so appreciate your candor. I made a decision to go off Ambien , therefore it’s 3:14 am in Pensacola. Your post came at the perfect time!
Oh man, that’s early!! Good grief. I hope you get to take a name, Teresa. Hugs, Heather