In a couple of weeks, I will begin a new learning curve in my medical career, even as I am slowing down. I will be working part-time in a Substance Use Disorder (SUD) Clinic, offering medication-assisted treatment in an intensive outpatient setting which includes group and individual counseling. In my training for this role, I have learned a lot about the neurobiology of addiction.
One of the things I’ve learned is that, in the natural course of the illness, relapse is an expected phase. The stigma and judgment attached to relapse, though, are immense. If someone with diabetes or asthma or high blood pressure has a relapse after being well controlled, there is much less of a tendency to blame the patient.
The same is not true of substance use, and the judgment comes from the substance users themselves as much as it does from society at large. The mentors and trainers who are teaching me stress the value of forgiveness and persistence.
They tell me never to give up. Patients will achieve sustained success even if it takes years, even if it takes multiple attempts. Eventually, they attain enough maturity and insight to succeed.
The Virtue of Self-Forgiveness
Writers, too, struggle with self-forgiveness. Recently, a fellow writer posted on an online forum, a safe, supportive group of writers and writing coaches. He confessed that he hadn’t written a word in 25 days
He’d had an inordinately busy month, yet he was castigating himself for not taking 15 or 20 minutes each day to write. The outpouring of support and understanding from other writers was amazing. One person offered a link to Elizabeth Gilbert’s blog which included this quote:
As for discipline – it’s important, but sort of over-rated. The more important virtue for a writer, I believe, is self-forgiveness. Because your writing will always disappoint you. Your laziness will always disappoint you. You will make vows: “I’m going to write for an hour every day,” and then you won’t do it. You will think: “I suck, I’m such a failure. I’m washed-up.” …The other thing to realize is that all writers think they suck. When I was writing “Eat, Pray, Love”, I had just as a strong a mantra of THIS SUCKS ringing through my head as anyone does when they write anything. But I had a clarion moment of truth during the process of that book. One day, when I was agonizing over how utterly bad my writing felt, I realized: “That’s actually not my problem.” The point I realized was this – I never promised the universe that I would write brilliantly; I only promised the universe that I would write.
In the natural course of the writing life, relapse to procrastination and self-doubt is an expected part of the process. I should be at least as forgiving and persistent with myself as I am with my patients.