on m o y e r 's  m i n d

Hopelessness or Hope

 by William C. Moyers

Out of options. When it happens to people ravaged by addiction, sometimes all I can offer them is my own encouragement. "It’s never too late," I tell them. "Don’t let go of hope."

I can’t help it. What else is there to say when a child or a spouse or a parent is drowning in alcohol or sinking into the mire of illegal drugs and there is nothing anyone can do? Hope is free, and I’ve got plenty of it, in part because of my own despair so many years ago, just before I finally got clean and sober. But I know there are times when I’m guilty of irrational exuberance, as if my own willpower somehow could prove to be the antidote to the inevitable reality that some people just aren’t going to make it.

Such is the reminder I got in an e-mail from a woman who reached out to me hoping to help her friend.

Dear Mr. Moyers:

I don’t have an addiction problem. But I’ve seen firsthand what alcoholism can do to someone. It’s not a pretty sight. This woman I know was a friend of mine for many years before I realized she was an alcoholic. I tried to help her, but she was taken to rehab and then was declared mentally incompetent and put in a nursing home. She won’t give me the time of day now; she’s angry at me for whatever reasons she has. It’s sad in a way, but I find I could not care less anymore because she has no good reason to be angry. I wonder whether she is in denial about her alcoholism and doesn’t want to take any responsibility for it. What do you think?—Sarah L. in Huntington, Ind.

Dear Sarah:

Sadly, your experience with the alcoholic in your life is not unique. Often family and friends of someone who’s in a crisis would do anything to help but suddenly discover they get nothing in return but anger or rejection from that person. That’s a wicked edge to the pain of addiction.

The denial is such that helpers are driven to hopelessness because of their inability to stop the insanity. I am sure that your friend would feel differently if her illness were cancer and you had pushed hard to get her help. It appears you can do nothing now, so step back and take care of your own needs. Your best intentions cannot overcome her inability to see the truth. While alcoholism isn’t her fault, she has no one to blame but herself if she isn’t prepared to accept responsibility for getting help. You are powerless to change her.

I recently wrote about a woman from Virginia, Anne N., who has struggled to find any joy in her life after a year of sobriety. She even was contemplating getting drunk again.

In response, Kim O. in Kenosha, Wis., asked me to pass this along to her:

"Anne, I couldn’t help thinking back to my first year of sobriety. Like you, I felt life wasn’t fair. I quit drinking, so how come nothing was going my way? My bills were still there; my family and friends still kept their distance; and I couldn’t find a job. Life seemed no better. Nothing had changed except the fact that I didn’t drink. Sobriety didn’t seem worth it. As you approach your sobriety anniversary, consider how much you already have given to addiction — everything that seems to have mattered in your life. But you still have plenty to lose: the courage, strength, willpower and time you already have put into your sobriety. What is more time going to cost you? Sobriety is worth it, and you are worth sobriety. Even a bad day sober is better than a good day drunk. I pray that you, too, will smile again. I celebrated my first year with lobster and steak; it cost less!"

As Sarah underscores, hopelessness carries a steep price. But Kim reminds us that hope is free and invaluable.

William C. Moyers is the vice president of external affairs for the Hazelden Foundation and the author of "Broken," his best-selling memoirs. Please send your questions to William Moyers at William@WilliamMoyers.com. To find out more about William Moyers and read his past columns, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.COPYRIGHT 2009 CREATORS SYNDICATE INC.