The current treatment approach to the treatment of drug addiction and alcoholism considers these twin phenomena a disease. But chemical dependency is more than a physical condition. It has been aptly characterized as a disease of loneliness, grief, isolation, and shame. And also as a “soul disease.”
Individual hypnotherapy sessions address the core issues that must be addressed by people recovering from addictions to drugs and/or alcohol, as the addiction amounts to a misguided attempt to alleviate the pain of those core issues.
“I wanted to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude for the session we had together during my treatment. I cannot even begin to tell you the sense of relief and strength I feel as a result of this one session with you. I went into the experience with a desperate heart and an open mind and came out whole and at peace. For the first time in my life I feel comfortable in my own skin. I feel that my inner child has gotten a second chance to grow and be free, in a nurturing safe environment. Not only did you give me freedom from the chains of abandonment, but you equipped me with valuable tools I could use if that horrible feeling of emptiness returned, which I am happy to report it has not. Thank you so much, my recovery would not be nearly as stable if I had not been able to go to the core and deal with my most nagging issues.”
– Christina G.
“With Jerry’s gentle and non-judgmental persistence, I have found the voice that had been stifled by a childhood of emotional abuse imposed upon me by my father. In a deep and yet at the same time strangely lucid trance, I am completely present and become able to view myself objectively. I can float effortlessly into areas of my childhood previously unexplored and in dire need of soothing and expression. At a young age I had learned to medicate the pain of the torture endured by this innocent child with drugs. With phenomenal skill and patience, he leads me to the walls that are holding in the pain, the terrible pain which led to addiction to painkillers. We approach the maze of confused childhood memories together. With this team approach, I’m not afraid to go there and see and feel what happened. I strongly recommend taking a ride with Jerry.”
– Jane Harkness, Respiratory Therapist
A True Guide Dog: A story of recovery
Darla, an accomplished registered nurse, has struggled with alcoholism since her teen years, some 30 years ago. She comes into hospital looking like she’s been run over. She was referred by her per diem employer, who smelled alcohol on her breath. It’s clear to the counselors on staff as well as her peers that her surly unapproachability and self-pitying attitude will lead her right back to the bottle when she leaves. Not a good prognosis for a late-stage alcoholic whose life may hang in the balance. Whatever vulnerability she feels she hides behind a hard-bitten “tough mama” persona.
I have Darla in small group with two men who are embracing their recovery. They have a pretty good grip on their issues and barriers to recovery. Darla continues to minimize her drinking problem. She places her attention on persuading her employer to take her back. She’s understandably concerned with the prospect of losing the car and apartment her traveling nurse status provided her. She’s facing homelessness!
I ask Darla if she has a sense of what her core issues are. She says no, except to recall her growing up in a well-to-do family and feeling reasonably secure and happy up till the time her alcoholic father dissipates the family fortune and leaves his wife and children behind.She does say she knows she has to stop drinking.
So I ask her to close her eyes. “…And go back to the moment of your first drink.” It was Boone’s Farm carbonated wine. I asked her to simulate the entire process… taking the first sip, feeling the wine on her lips and tongue, feeling it slide down her throat. “And how does it make you feel?” It makes her feel good (of course—otherwise, why keep drinking?). “And what would feel even better?”
She later tells me that when she took that drink as a teenager, having left her now-impoverished single mother, she leaves home at 16 with her dog Barracuda, a mangy pup she rescued from a shelter. Not long after, cheap wine becomes her other companion.
For years, she battles alcoholism, often succumbing to it, all the while pursuing an education in nursing. And she becomes a nurse, and excels at her profession. And she has periods of sobriety, but is never able to overcome her addiction.
What would feel even better, she says, is petting her dog. She extends her arm as if Barracuda is sitting at her feet. Her expression softens and she begins to cry. “Is there anything that Barracuda wants to communicate to you?” “She says she forgives me and I should stop blaming myself.” (Later Darla says she had to give up Barracuda when she went to jail for a DUI in her early 30s. She never saw her pet again, and never forgave herself for the episode.) “Does she say anything else?” “She says I should stop being so damn stubborn and start listening to the counselors here.” A smile appears along with the tears, flowing freely now. “Does Barracuda say there’s anything else you need to do?” “She says I should go to a shelter and find a dog with no hope and take it home. That’s how I can make it up to her.” We conclude the session. The room is quiet; we feel moved at Darla’s experience.
Darla’s subconscious came up with an apt metaphor. She of course was the one “with no hope,” who, after all, was not hopeless; she could rescue herself after all. Afterward, she told me she used to look at a framed photo of Barracuda, weep and drink herself numb. Now she spoke animatedly of her love of animals. She was willing to let go of her focus on getting her job back and instead turned her attention to finding a clean and sober house to move into and begin a fresh approach to her recovery. The next day she’s the talk of her peers in the program, so dramatic is her turnaround.
This session took place in about 20 minutes.