Observation from the Frying Pan: Don't Glorify Your Victimhood

Friends, 

These last six months have been the most difficult time of my life.

A family member in my home has been going through addiction. It's thrown our home life into disarray. During this time, I've been repeatedly lied to, gaslighted, betrayed, manipulated, taken advantage of, had kindness thrown back in my face. I've spent tens of thousands of dollars to help this person and have little to show for it. People I had respected were found to be aiders and abettors that hurt me and my family.

If it continues, I am certain our family will fray, our finances will go into the red, the relationship with our kids will be broken. I'll likely lose my home. Broken family, broken lives, if this continues.

I have good reason to consider myself a victim in this.

But I've found that glorifying my victimhood -- woe is me, "look at all the bad that's happened to me" -- actually makes things worse. 

Maybe you're a victim too. Maybe someone sexually abused you as a child. Maybe your spouse mistreated you or assaulted you. Maybe you were deeply wronged by a close friend. Maybe your business partner took advantage of you. Maybe you have real reasons to consider yourself a victim.

But I would encourage you not to glorify your victimhood or make it a key part of your identity.

Making your victim status a key part of your identity multiplies frustration and anger. It slows down your forward progress in moving beyond the hurt that was caused. It stymies your relationship with God and people.

For me, when I was alone in the car or at home, I found myself rehearsing speeches I'd make to my addicted family member. It never helped and usually made things worse; it'd just build up anger for the person internally. Eventually that anger spills out, as Yeshua told us,

For out of the heart come evil thoughts—murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. These are what defile a person. 

-Matthew 15

I found myself talking to trusted friends about the things that have happened to me. But talking about all the things the addicted family member did grew my resentment for them. My conversations with my trusted friends soon became dominated by my victimhood. I think it was unhealthy for me and for the people I was talking to. I was becoming Judah the Poor Victim.

It's not that we can't talk about the things that have happened to us. It's not that we can't grieve about it before God or with close friends. In fact, I think talking to God about them is one of the best things you can do with victimhood. 

But if you make that victim status a key part of your identity -- Judah the Victim -- then it crosses into an unhealthy territory. What was done to you will never fully go away. If your victim status is a key part of your personality, a key part of you will always be broken. Then the evil done to you has a new foothold and gained new territory: your identity.

Identity built around victimhood is unhealthy.

As for me, bad things have happened to me, but my identity is in the Lord. Yeshua is my identity, and I am a child of God, much beloved and not forgotten. He has seen all that's happened, and He is my reward.

I don't know why I'm writing this post, other than to take note of this observation from the frying pan. Maybe it will help you too.

Dealing with Addiction in My Home

You may have noticed I've been a bit quieter here on the blog and in my various ministry projects (Messianic Radio, Messianic Chords, Etz Mitzvot). The reason is, I'm dealing with addiction in my home. A family member is suffering with a longstanding substance addiction.

The family member has agreed to check-in to a 30-day substance abuse recovery program. Right now, I'm just trying to keep my head above water, give 100% at my job, while dealing with this addiction and fallout in my home.

I keep reminding myself to have grace for myself. I'm going to fall behind on various projects, chores, and duties. I can't do it all, and I can't cover everything for the addicted family member. It's OK -- expected, even -- to fall behind on some of these things. I can't do everything, and I can't do 2 full-time jobs forever. I will inevitably forget chores, forget duties, forget to do some responsibility in the home, mess up on some of them. It's OK. I need to have grace for myself during this time.

This week I was driving my daughter to school (30 minute drive) and when we arrived, I realized we had forgotten her school backpack and lunchbox. I was angry at first. At my daughter and at myself. But I remembered to have grace. With the additional workload and burden, there will be things that get forgotten. I need to have grace for myself.

For my family members too. We're all frustrated, feel betrayed, feel estranged from the addicted family member. I need to have grace for them too.

The rehab clinic gave me several books to read. They're books about how family members of addicts can help the addict heal. They talk about how family members make things worse by enabling the addict, hiding addictions, keeping the truth hidden, covering for the addict, being willfully ignorant of the addiction, cowering instead of confronting. I have been doing some of those things for years. 

One helpful thing the books taught me is to separate the addiction from the person. The addict is acting out and treating you terribly because the substance has warped their mind. It truly turns them into another person. It is like demonic possession in a way; that's not the person talking, it's the addiction.

Addiction turns people into demons. My addicted family member became a serial liar. I caught them in so many lies that I couldn't trust a word they told me. Nearly every interaction with the family member became dark and negative: an argument waiting to happen. During Christmas eve, when we had some family activities planned, the addicted family member started picking a fight about some triviality. I said, "It's Christmas eve, no fighting." The addicted family member was then angry and trying to fight with me over the next two days. I now see it's the addiction doing that, not the person. I want the person to get well, and checking into a recovery program is a step towards that.

The books have helped me understand that addiction is a lifelong thing. People can get on the road to recovery. But there will always be the temptation of the substance. Always a possibility of relapse. The addict, once in recovery, has to be vigilant for the rest of their life.

The recovery center has given some lectures to families and patients. At one of the lectures, the counselor said, "Alcohol addiction is hard, because buying and abusing it is legal. Wal Mart is a drug dealer, selling hard liquor. So is Costco and Target and your favorite restaurant."

My addicted family member has now been in the rehab program for 14 days. Being away from the family member for all that time has given me mixed emotions. On the positive side, it's been relatively peaceful. But it's also felt like I'm going through the meat grinder. The family member called me multiple times the first week, begging, pleading, crying, bargaining to get me to pick them up. I had to refuse. Because of that, the addicted family member said hurtful things to me and has for the most part avoided me when I've come to visit them in rehab.

One helpful thing is praising God. I'm reminded of Leah, the unloved wife of Jacob. She kept doing things to make her husband love her, even naming her sons with names that would imply that love. But after birthing several sons, and still feeling unloved, she had another son named Judah. She named him that because Judah means praise:

Then Leah became pregnant again and gave birth to another son and said, “This time I will praise the LORD.” For this reason she named him Judah. Then she stopped having children.

Praising God has been helpful during this time. In the car this morning, after dropping my daughter off at school, I just started praising God. I'm stressed and I'm doing 2 full time jobs and I'm short on sleep and I threw out my back yesterday (damn, I'm old). But I praised God anyway. It's almost a kind of holy defiance: No, I will not give up. No, I will not throw in the towel. No, I will not whine and complain and say woe is me. No, I will praise the Lord.

Please pray for us.