Addiction

It Is for Freedom

Crystal Renaud — Fri, 20 May 2011 10:17:41 -0700

From Roe v. Wade to lesbianism to birth control, women’s liberation movements have made it their platform to give women a right over their own bodies.

Some good and some not so good have come out if it. But fast forward to today, and we see that women are once again in a fight for liberation.

But this time, it is a personal fight and one that is more often fought all alone. In the last ten years especially, our culture of sexually provocative advertising and media have aided in the trans- formation of women from sexually submissive into sexually aggressive...and sexually obsessed.

As such, this is resulting in a rapidly growing addiction to pornography and sexual promiscuity among women today.

In the New York Times last year an article was written about me, groups I lead, Dirty Girls Ministries, and this whole issue of women’s addiction to pornography.

It struck a chord (or a nerve rather) and left some people saying, “Is this Crystal Renaud an antifeminist? Masturbation, sexual exploration, and pornography use is normal. She is setting women’s lib back a hundred years.”

You can read the comments for yourself. But questions and comments like these could not be further from the truth.

What is liberating about a woman being in bondage to her own perverse sexuality?

Nothing.

I know the bondage of pornography and compulsive sexual behavior firsthand, as I spent eight years of my own life in this addiction.

And what is liberating is taking back ownership of what we see, what we hear, and what we do. And as a result, living lives free from the things that can keep us in bondage.

That, my sweet sisters (and brothers), is liberation.

Liberation that only biblical sexual wholeness can provide you. “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery” (Galatians 5:1).
_______________________________

Excerpt from Dirty Girls Come Clean by Crystal Renaud.

Addicted, Depressed, Voiceless Grace

Abbie Smith — Mon, 17 May 2010 08:44:21 -0700

I’ve woken to a cloudy disposition and wearied motivation today, feeling body deep in a pocket of depression, whereby compulsions feel like my only way out. Feasts on narcotics of control, productivity, food, release, sleep, isolation, and so forth, feel like my only saving grace. And yet, God seems to be drawing me toward something more—or maybe less.

By His grace, I can only surmise, I’ve lost my voice. Never before plagued by such a condition, it’s a new state of depravity for me, as one prone to words, and “explaining” my way out-of, into, or through modes of my true self, and situation. Who am I without my voice? How do I represent myself? How do I show who I am to people, or talk my way through the pains of my soul this hour? Or could it be, that there really is another way—that really is an I beyond me without a voice, or me as an addict, or depressed saint?

I’m reviewing a couple books* on addiction and depression this month, which has shared a timely personal coinciding with some areas of addiction and depression. Not sure if one initiated the other, or vice versa, but the combination of feeling the contents I’m reading, as well as reading the contents I’m feeling, for the most part has seemed helpful (at other times, combined weights of linguistic explanation, plus experience, has seemed too much.

Depression (and its sister, Anxiety) are nothing new to me. Parts of my make-up, I would say, have battled them since I was a young girl. Given outlets (/addictions/dependencies/false lovers/idols) of hiding though (long-distance running, eating disorders, people pleasing, busyness, perfectionism…), I kept them under wraps. Given (usually virtuous) “fig leaves” of covering (see Genesis 3), I kept them at bay. By the grace of God, however, my bay hit up against an ocean not too many years ago and all prior frameworks were stripped—all previous mechanisms of strength shattered. Apart from my salvation, I’m not sure such any such collision has found me more Grateful.

Painful though it was to come face to face with realities of my soul, and true self, the more prevalent sensation was relief. No longer did I have to hide my unsteadiness. No longer did I have to inwardly defend conflicted associations with addiction, depression, or self-condemnation. No longer did I have to run from, or “run-off” the likes of exhaustion, or inadequacy, nor harbor the weights of an inward lie. As if born anew, I got to (re)start the journey of life learning to be who I really was—a saint saturated by addiction, a depressed stranger searching for Home. In the words of Gerald May, I began to realize, “To be alive is to be addicted, and to be alive and addicted is to stand in need of grace” (“Addiction and Grace,” p. 11).

Could it be that I am Loved here, forgiven here, and invited here, to a glory untold? Could it be that such silencing is a grace…such sorrow an unveiling of newfound contents, and newly experienced surrender? Could it be that where I am, just as I am, voiceless, addicted and depraved in my sainthood, is just the place Christ wants me…just the posture by which Arms have space enough draw Near…just the ineptness for which Grace has room enough to save…

For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God… Ephesians 2.8

Further Resources I’ve found helpful on these topics:
*No Stones": Marnie C. Ferree; "Addiction and Grace": Gerald May
"Acedia and Me": Kathleen Norris
"Kingdom Triangle": J.P. Moreland
"The Return of the Prodigal Son": Henri Nouwen
"Abba’s Child": Brennan Manning

So I'm an addict...then what?

Abbie Smith — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 07:41:47 -0700

My friend told me she was an addict today.

I was so proud of her, not because she confessed some profane form of activity, but because she cooperated with some unpleasant part of being human.

None of us escapes addiction. And though some are more identifiable, like porn, food, or shopping, others are heinously scripted into our DNA, like self-promotion, ease and vanity.

My friend and I realized that to sever her addiction altogether would mean severing parts of her that were good, like desire. And yet, fully submitting to its patters didn't feel right either, so we decided there must be an alternative route. Seems like we can either turn away from our addictions, or we can face the truth of them, and hope to God love exists in that vicinity.

Maybe recovery is less about learning how not to fall, than it is recognizing tools that help us get back up. And maybe strands of addiction will always taunt us, but healing is less about being fixed, than it is being loved, especially in our addictions.

nine woes...part 7

Alicia Britt Chole — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 07:14:05 -0700

woe to those who attempt to outrun their addictions: will we slow down and seek help?

Addictions simply can’t be outrun.

They will not be silenced by noise, exhausted by activity, or intimidated by sacrifice.

Slow down.

Come in out of the noise.

Face the ugly.

Now IS better than later.

Later may be a little too late…for you, for those you love, and for your full potential in this generation.

Pause.

Get help.

Freedom has never been free.

He paid in blood. You may have to pay in tears, postponed dreams, and humiliation.

The fallen would beg you from experience to pay now instead of later.

Process Addictions

Kristen Howerton — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 00:51:29 -0800

I just had my first class for the semester at Vanguard University. I teach a class on Addictive Behavior in their graduate psychology program. It's a fun class to teach, but I've noticed an interesting thing over the past five years since I started teaching.

Every semester, the students are getting more and more zombie-like during class. Every semester, I am seeing more faces staring at their computer screens during class intead of paying attention (probably facebooking or emailing as opposed to writing notes). Or texting on their phone. Or otherwise multi-tasking or engaging in technological brain-numb while I'm talking.

Now I realize that they could be doing this because my lectures are incredibly boring. I''d like to think I'm a dynamic and funny professor, but am humble enough to acknowledge that is a possibility that I just plain suck. But in talking to other professors, this "zoning out" thing seems to be a university-wide epidemic. It's gotten so bad that there was some serious discussion amongst the faculty as to how to deal with it.

Let me point out, again. I am talking about grad students. Not junior highers. Not 18-year-olds. These are adults, with 4+ years of college behind them, seeking a post-graduate education that they are paying out the nose for at $400 per credit unit.

So last night, for my first class, I laid down the law: No staring at laptop screens in class. No typing in class. If you wanna write notes, use your pen. But be present in class. Look at me while I'm talking. Talk back. Participate.

After I gave my "allow me to ruin your classtime social networking party" speech, I launched into the evening's lecture, which just so happened to be an exploration of chemical addictions vs. process addictions. And suddenly I had this epiphany: the trend I am seeing is a growing number of students who are accustomed to zoning out, distracting themselves from reality, and unable to listen to one live person talk for any number of minutes.

Kind of a problem for people interested in doing talk therapy all day.

It makes me wonder how our advanced technology is affecting our ability to listen and to be in relationship with others. (And by relationship, I mean one-on-one, as opposed to Facebook friends). Are we becoming a society so entangled by our computers and phones that we no longer know how to relate in the real world? Is there an emerging generation of computer-addicted young adults who need their laptop like they need air and water?

Is the movie WALL-E coming true??

In my lecture, I talk about the reality of process addictions, and how they can be just as dangerous as chemical addictions. I talk about how people can swap gambling, or pornography, or shopping, or any other number of mind-numbing activities to avoid reality. It's scary to think how many of the kids growing up today will struggle with an addiction to technology, computers, phones, and video games. It's so pervasive that it's even commonplace.

It is enough to give me pause, and to re-evaluate my own time spent at the computer, and the tether I often feel to my activities online. If I'm honest, I know that I am often not living to my values by sepnding time on facebook instead of with my kids, or by texting a friends some funny tidbit while out with my husband, or by letting my son spend too much time on his computer game because it gives me a break. Our technology has given us great advances in connecting with others, and yet the connection at times seems to be growing wider in breadth and yet much more shallow in depth.. I do sometimes think that a spiritual and social shift is happening right in front of us. But are we are all too busy checking our inbox to notice what is happening? Or all we all so entrenched in this process that we don't even really care?

Shout out to the Hurting at Christmastime

Joan Ball — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 12:56:09 -0800

Tonight is Christmas Eve and I find myself facing the first Christmas in recent memory, maybe ever, that I wish was over before it began. I'm not bah humbug, nor am I falling apart sad. I am just not feeling it. Not interested. Indifferent.

Part of it has to do with the loss of both of my parents this year. Those of you who may have read my piece on Stages of Grief know that they died at ages 67 and 65 within 20 days of one another in April. He from a stroke and she from cancer. Loss and Christmas can be difficult to reconcile.

Part of it has to do with watching one of my children struggle with the first sober Christmas and all that entails for the addict that is turning their life around. I remember that feeling from my first sober Christmas a number of years ago and I wish this child well. Sobriety, depression and Christmas can be difficult to reconcile.

Part of it has to do with having spent down the last of our savings and having had to borrow the money for our mortgage and Christmas presents this year while navigating the difficult bridge of having no predictable income or health insurance until January. Financial uncertainty and Christmas can be difficult to reconcile.

And yet, in the midst of all of it, I have many things to be grateful for and there are millions of people on earth who have things far, far worse than we do. I am sitting in a warm home with a loving husband and three children who I love and who love me. I expect the first advance on my book to arrive in the mail any day now and I begin a new teaching job (with benefits) at the end of January, so there are good things on the horizon.

Fortunately, hope and the true meaning of Christmas are not only easy to reconcile--they go hand in hand.

So, this is a shout out to all of the people for whom Christmas festivities are feeling like more of an assault than a gift. Those who are doing their best to go through the motions because of grief, or empty bank accounts or trying to stay away from a drink or a drug. Let's have a Merry Christmas anyway and pray for an even happier New Year.