Tell It Like It Is
A well documented side effect of heroin addiction is the lying and the deceit. When faced with the profile of a heroin addict you immediately think of a stealing, lying, skinny Trainspotting type. I recently looked at photographs of Hannah from three summers ago. She was at the height of her addiction and conformed to the she physical stereotype in its entirety - thin to the point of emaciation, sunken eyes, dirty finger nails, swollen feet, bandaged wrists – the list goes on. With the hugest lie of all exposed and our reaction one of love and acceptance, I hadn’t understood that the deceit would continue.
And I was meant to be drug savvy.
The lies tumbled out of Hannah’s mouth like Rapunzel’s hair down the side of her tower. At first I didn’t realise she was lying because I felt I hadnt been engaging in conversations that warranted a distortion of the truth. What I later found out was that even when talking about what she might have had for supper was reason for her to fabricate a story. I couldnt understand why she did it. It made me so angry. Why couldnt she trust me? As a family, we had swallowed our fear, shown her as little judgement as possible and been open to the harshness of her truth in a desperate attempt to understand and support her. A relationship which is not based on trust and honesty, even with the best intentions, is a struggle.
I have always loved Hannah so much but our relationship growing up was often volatile. I remember being about 22 and walking down the street with her. She had been out the night before and I was interested in how her evening had been. I had only recently realised that my 17 year old sister wasnt a little girl anymore and thought we were probably having similar experiences. I really wanted to become her friend and confident. So I asked:
“What did you get up to last night?” .
“Nothing much, we just stayed in and watched TV“.
I knew she was lying. Why didnt she trust me? It felt as if she was positioning me in the same camp as our parents and I couldn’t understand. I was hurt and consequently angry. I wanted to bond with her but she put up a barrier that rarely came down. I took it personally.
When Hannah was staying with us a few weeks ago, before her relapse, she was in a good place. It felt as if she was on an honesty campaign as Serena and I found out all sorts of things we hadn’t known before. Although the information was often hard to bare it felt good to connect with her. There were, however, small discrepancies in things she said that Serena and I inadvertently found out – how much something cost, where she got something from, what she was doing on a certain day and so on. She would tell me one thing and Serena another for something seemingly pointless. These lies were not serious but they registered none-the-less.
Whilst my parents were visiting last week, it came as a huge surprise to hear that, as otherwise previously believed, Hannah had not been under psychiatric care over the last 18 months. This new information knocked me for six. Hannah had gone into so much detail around her relationship with her doctor. When asked, she could have brushed us off and changed the subject but she engaged in lengthy conversations about her relationship and treatment with her psychiatrist. I felt physically sick for days when I first found out. I was surprised at my reaction – this has, after all, not been the first lie exposed but the thought of Hannah not being looked after professionally when she was at her most vulnerable ,when I thought she was safe, was devastating. That she couldnt reach out to us and that she felt she had to fabricate complex scenarios felt more about our falabilities than her disease.
My mother recently asked why we never believe Hannah when she says something good but always believe her darkest accounts. I suppose the answer to that lies in the fact that over the last 10 years we have found out that there has rarely been any truth to any of the positive stories we have heard. Our family has repetedly wiped the slate clean and after the inital confused reactions abide, hoped again for honesty. I understand that lying is a side effect of her disease and in calmer moments am able to transfer my anger into compassion.
With the best will in the world, I still fight the fact that I will for a long time doubt everything she says. I pray that one day she will be able to tell it like it is.
Nora – thanks for leaving a comment on my blog (Helplessly Hoping). I just visited your blog and wanted to comment on your most recent post. You’re a good writer. And everything you mentioned about your sister’s lies, resonates completely with me. My daughter is a heroin addict. She’s beautiful (or was), well educated (BA from an elite private liberal arts college), smart, charming – and yet, she has always exaggerated, distorted the truth to her advantage, or, down-right lied. I guess that maybe when living in the reality of the drug world, what it takes to procure and use the drugs, lies might not seem so bad to the addict? Lying actually might become necessary in their world – to survive, or get what they need/want. I think that now, lying has become such an ingrained practice, my daughter can’t easily discern the truth. AND, with family, shame plays a huge part in lying and perpetuating the myth that things aren’t so bad, that they are on the road of recovery, or “gonna” do something, etc. I’m not sure if I will ever be able to believe my daughter. I actually feel guilty that I believed her for so long – and that her eventual spiraling down into heroin use was what it took for me to realize the years and years of lies. Thanks for this post.
Dear Peg – thank you so much for taking the time to read my blog. I found yours when I first started writing it and read it regularly – I find such comfort in our shared experiences.
Our addicts relationship with lying is so complex isnt it. Im sure she started to lie when she was younger to boost her self confidence, keep out of trouble and all the other usual teenage reasons but as you say, when heroin came into play the lies took on a different meaning – survival, protection and a cover up for the shame.
I have been so angry with Hannah for lying. She looked me square in the eyes a few weeks ago and said she wasnt using heroin and 2 minutes later we found her stash. Its become such an inate part of her life I dont think she knows that she is doing it half the time. How tiring it must be for her.
I just hope and pray that whilst in rehab she can be honest with herself, her group and her counsellors. It is only by going through the harsh reality of her truth that she will ever have a chance of beating this thing.
As for us – it may be better all round if we dont believe what they say for a while. The highs and lows of discovering we were duped – again – are so tough to deal with. But the love we have for our sister/ daughter probably means we will want to give them the benefit of the doubt again and again.
Thank you for your comments Peg.
and the lying is what makes it so hard to visualise a future with the addict, based on trust. at some point Hannah may want to visit us again and be part of family life again, and I find it hard to see that happening and I know that I have to work hard to get to a place where I can welcome here into our home genuinely. and that is part of what makes me so angry, that I have to work hard at this too…Thanks Nora for your post.
Serena – thanks for your comment. I understand and share how you feel.
Following my conversation with her last night, I fear we may have to be ready sooner than we’d thought.
I feel safe knowing she is in rehab. As her programme is 2/3rds of the way through, we have to start thinking about how we are going to feel when she gets out. ..