Tuesday, September 9, 2014

The Addict's Reality Distortion Field

In our addiction we do a lot of damage. When we do things we promise we won't do, we turn our back on a lot of people--Jesus and the commandments; our spouse and our covenants; our family and their expectations; ourselves and our sense of integrity. We don't want to turn our back on these people because we love them and want what's best for them. In order to not become the bad guy, we need to justify our disobedience and selfishness, and that's where some mental contortionism comes in. I call it the reality distortion field. (Quick caveat--in case you didn't pick it up from the sketchy name ("isn't a reality distortion field something on Star Trek?") I have no training whatsoever, and I base this post strictly off of my own thinking and things I've heard in support groups.)

The reality distortion field is like a fun house mirror for the way we view the world--every problem that comes our way is bent to take an optimistic, beneficial shape. With this ability I can twist any unfortunate fact that makes me look bad into something that appears to be outside my control or unfair or not as bad as it is. For example, my "addiction to compulsive sexual behavior to deal with my character flaws" was actually only "a small problem with pornography that I'm never going to do again, I promise." Facts about my performance in my parenting, marriage, jobs, etc. have all received a similar whitewashing through the years.

As I've written and rewritten this post, I've come to the conclusion that addicts don't have a monopoly on the reality distortion field. A woman whom everyone thinks is beautiful may consider herself overweight and hideous. A parent who's pressuring their near-tone-deaf child to try out on American Idol may be convinced their child is a musical genius. A person investigating the church may decide it's completely unreasonable in the kinds of behaviors--tithing, standards, weekly meetings, callings, etc.--it requires of them (I experienced this last one a lot on my mission in a Scandinavian country). The common ingredient between all of these--in particular addicts--is pride. Here's how a guy in my support group put it: each of us have a throne inside of us, and either we can sit in it, or we can let God sit in it. And God is a pretty cool guy, because if we want to sit in it, he'll stand aside and say, "No, go ahead. You sit there as long as you want...let me know how that turns out for you." It never turns out well, though we often optimistically tell ourselves it will.

I believe in optimism. "The gospel" is literally "the good news"--if we focus on the gospel, we're focusing on the good news. Faith, including having faith that we can change, is the first principle of the gospel. If we didn't have hope for the future and that things can be better, why would we do anything that we do? However, there's a difference between actual faith linked with a resolve to be and do, versus unrealistic expectations for the future based on overconfidence in our own ability. There's a difference between hope that we can overcome our addiction and become pure through the atonement versus false hope in ourselves coupled with a willful ignorance of how the gospel and repentance works.

False optimism is often the heart of the addict's reality distortion field. I can't tell you how many times I told myself, "this is the last time"...probably every time I acted out. Was it a lie? Not completely--I genuinely thought that the motivation I felt when I committed to be better was going to keep me safe when temptations came along later. Every time I acted out my self disgust was so focused, my resolve so clear, that it looked, in that moment, like finally I had solid ground to base my recovery on. Of course, I was forgetting that I had those same feelings EVERY TIME I had acted out. Why do we forget? Because this is a forgetting disease. Satan's lies or our own twisted brains keep us from realizing that we aren't actually trying anything different to change the outcome, so there's no possible way it will turn out differently. Our pride--sitting on our throne, trying to solve our problems in our way (or asking God to solve our problems in our way)--blinds us to the reality of our situation.

Like the stereotypical used car salesman who only has good things to say about his cars, we develop ways of portraying our situation that minimize our guilt and excuse our behavior. We HAVE to use porn and masturbation to numb our feelings because we're under extra pressure and deserve a break. And if we aren't under extra pressure...it's because we're bored and deserve some excitement. Or it's because we don't get enough love and support at home. And if we DO get enough love and support...it's because we're smothered by too much positivity. Or it's because of our upbringing, or the culture we're in, or ...(ad infinitum).
The reality distortion field is the biggest barrier to recovery for a few reasons:
  • Recovery requires hard work. And notice it's called "recovery work." It's not called "recovery thinking" or "recovery talking." When we're in the midst of our own delusions, especially if we have some sobriety, we start to feel like we've got this recovery thing down! Our genuine excitement distorts into a false confidence that we can lighten up. We tell ourselves we're working when we're actually more concerned with seeing what we can get away with as we coast, not with doing whatever it takes--fearless and tireless action--to overcome our addiction.
  • It's impossible to recovery without brutal honesty--both with ourselves and others. When we're in a habit of sugarcoating, blame-shifting, whitewashing, qualifying, justifying, backpedaling,  minimizing, and straight-up lying, how could we possibly hope to overcome the problem, let alone even know what it is?
  • We can't recover without thorough accountability. The reality distortion field is a defense mechanism, which is inward and isolating: "I don't need help; nothing's wrong and I'm doing fine!" Recovery is outward and open: "I'm out of control, and I can't do this on my own." Recovery necessarily involving others--especially recovering addicts.  They know how to keep us honest since they've told all the same lies.
In this life, we "see through a glass, darkly" (1 Cor 13:12). We don't know the whole context of our actions. Everyone is forced to interpret their perception of reality, in ways that are inevitably inaccurate. However, I'm convinced that with a concerted effort, we can reshape our opinions and attitudes to be less accommodating to our fleshly tendencies and closer to the way things really are. 

No comments:

Post a Comment