Sometimes Accepting Mediocrity

How often we get caught up in this idea of “should.” I had a patient – a young man in his 20s, in recovery from drugs and alcohol.* He was early in his recovery, so it was fragile, which we spent a lot of time discussing meant both very precious and very tenuous. One weekend, his roommates were out of town, leaving him home alone for the first time since he had been at his in-patient program. When we met the following week, he told me all the “shoulds” that had been going through his mind: he should be able to make it through the weekend totally sober, totally easily. He should make the utmost use of this limited solo time. He should enjoy every moment, use the weekend of solitude to grow as a person in his newly sober state. He made plans to write poetry, paint, connect with old friends, cook elaborate meals, go on a hike. This was going to be a glorious weekend of self-discovery.

And what happened? He relapsed. Crushed under the pressure of the “shoulds,” he slept in on Saturday morning, felt immediately guilty for not making the most of his first day of freedom from addiction and roommates, and ordered a pizza for lunch. He had asked his roommates to lock the liquor cabinet, but knew immediately where to find the key. By 4pm, after binge-watching his favorite show, he went for the booze, and the rest of the weekend was a blur.

By the time we talked, he had regained his sober state, and expressed his frustration at the way AA makes you go back to day one no matter how much emotional and psychological progress you have made. This is what we considered: What if he hadn’t started out with all the “shoulds,” but rather an open mind, curiosity about how the weekend would go and what emotions would come up? I mean, what the hell is wrong with sleeping in on Saturday morning?

I once read an interview with a celebrity in a magazine who was quoted as saying something like “Every night when I go to bed, I make sure that I feel that I’ve lived the day to the fullest, and that I’m as happy as I can be, and have no regrets.” And I just thought, what a load of shit. And what a god damn way to make the rest of us feel awful about ourselves. Some nights I go to bed feeling that I’ve had a full and happy day, and other days I fall asleep with a tinge of regret that I didn’t call that old friend I’ve been meaning to call, or fold my laundry, or have dessert. And you know what? Then I breath, and I fall asleep, and I wake up the next day and keep living.

*These details and all future details about this patient have been significantly modified to protect confidentiality.