Spiritus contra spiritum

Don't you hate oversleeping? It really sucks when such extended snoozing makes you late. Wednesdays are the day the kids and I sleep in, when nobody goes anywhere, and I only work a couple hours at night. Normally this means the coffee mug's in hand by 7 and Maclane's usually on my tail. But today? While Marty shoved off around 7, both kids and I didn't crack open the ol' eyelids until 9:30!!! And when I sleep that late, it's just too much! Unless I'm going to lag around in jammies all day and have only myself to be concerned with. But when I get that much sleep and I've got a couple of kids to man, it just blows. And what blows even worse? Dreaming about WORK! And not just a normal day at the office, but work involving a loved one.

Yesterday I received a phone call about getting a friend into alcohol detox. The previous evening I'd been with this person and was baffled by her behavior--uncontrollable tremors, nonsensical muttering, bizarro stuff that I assumed was some weird residual effect from a bout with cancer she'd had a few years earlier. The phone call told otherwise. By Tuesday, she'd been 3 days off the booze and the hallucinations were setting in. I didn't know she drank.

Despite my work in the field of drug addiction, I froze like a deer in headlights. WTF? I suddenly didn't know the protocol, my only thought was that she needed detox and NOW. Fortunately the caller, her sister, simply needed support and confirmation that what she was seeing was a medical emergency. She took the bold move and called 911. That was the absolute right decision, but not the popular one. Refusing visitors, my friend is sitting in a detox unit as family mulls over their options.

It made me think of a recent episode on This American Life where a man takes care of his mother and likens her alcoholism to that of the possession of Regan from The Exorcist. In our cups, we say and do ANYTHING to cover our ass and get what we want, which is usually 2 things: a) more booze and b) to be left alone. And when we don't get those 2 things, we're horrible to be around. And seeing my friend tonight, I could see the wear and tear. Guilt is setting in as her sister refuses to see her, accusing her of betrayal.

My heart aches for the family because this is nothing new. It was nearly 5 years ago that their brother was found dead in his car. He'd finally drank himself to death, having dragged the family through decades of his alcoholism. He'd had loads of opportunities to get well, but when the question was put to him: "How would you live?" He said, "I'll drink." And he died.

As my friend faces this question, my prayer is that she find a flicker of hope to take one big, giant leap and fathom a reality without booze. It's so scary, that fucking question. So stark. There's no running from it. And it's not answered just once, we must dig deep and answer it everyday, in all that we do.

In his writings to Bill Wilson, co-founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, psychologist Carl Jung wrote of the strange impact alcohol has on our spiritual core. He termed it "spiritus contra spiritum." Spirits (liquor) against Spirit (soul), a great window into why this is such an ass kicker. . .