What it means to me to be an Interventionist
About 20 years ago, I found myself waking up in jail, with very little options. Addicted to drugs and alcohol, I had just been arrested for my third drunken driving offense. Unfortunately, I was already on parole, having just served prison time for driving while intoxicated. After bailing out, my attorney informed me that there was a good chance that I would be thrown back in prison. Returning home, I was faced with the overwhelming reality of my life. Sober for that day, I looked at my life. A career as a bartender, a parolee, two children, and a pregnant wife. What had I done with my life? How did I get myself into this mess? How do I get myself out?
I did not enter into treatment for a noble reason. I did not look around at my wife and kids and say to myself “I have decided to turn my life around and become a responsible, upstanding citizen.” In actuality, few people do. I entered into what would be my first and only treatment center because my attorney said that I had two options. One: go back to prison or Two: go into rehab and maybe the judge would let me off for a bit. Interestingly enough, I had to think about it for awhile. Both options seemed to be equally bad to me. It was my first real intervention, albeit a legal one.
Entering into treatment reluctantly, I began to hear things that made a little sense. “Ok, maybe I did drink too much…maybe I did a bit of drugs…maybe I had a bit of a problem.” Those small bits of truth, combined with the leverage the legal system had hanging over me gave me enough incentive to stay. I figured that I would stay in treatment and go to their required recovery meetings just long enough until they got off my back.
Very early on in that treatment center it was suggested to me to pursue recovery as hard as I went after alcohol, drugs, nicotine and gambling. For some reason I never forgot that. I didn’t apply it at the time. But now it has become a lifestyle to me. Today, when I make up my mind for something towards my recovery, I go to it with an intensity. What has followed that commitment has been a path that has led me to be an interventionist.
For a guy who was so adamant against treatment, it’s interesting where my path has taken me. Over the next 19 years I went through 9-1/2 years of therapy, 3 years of group therapy, 19 years of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), 17 years of Al-Anon, 3 years of Adult Children of Alcoholics (ACOA), 2 years of Codependence Anonymous (Coda), 1-1/2 years of Nicotine Anonymous (Smobriety), and 1 year of Narcotics Anonymous.
For someone who was once so selfish and self-centered, it’s incredible that I have dedicated the last 15 years of my life towards helping others. During this whole time in recovery, my guidance has been to help others in each fellowship and I have learned that if I give away to others everything I have acquired through my experiences, good and bad, then I would be able to keep my healthier way of being.
For an ex-drunk, gambler, and addict, who didn’t have faith in much of anything besides the bottle, it’s awe inspiring to me that today I walk a spiritual path. When my youngest daughter went to college, I prayed, meditated and asked for guidance as to what I should do next in my journey. The answer I received was to continue helping others, but to help on the firing lines of addiction…interventions were the call.
Each intervention that I do gives me an opportunity to help an entire core family…to give them a chance to change a generation and stop the insanity that they have been conducting throughout their lives. I thoroughly enjoy planting seeds of hope, possibility, and direction. As an added bonus, I get to help a fellow addict and give them an opportunity to have an awesome life as I was given that same chance.
Arriving and meeting the families prior to the intervention, I sense in them the extreme tension, doubt, hopelessness, and fear, that probably existed in my family as they helplessly watched me self-destruct. Spending several hours with each family gives me the honor of teaching, sharing, and guiding them to a possibility of hope. After gaining this hope and trust from the family and seeing how willing and open most members of the “team” (family) members are, the intervention is such a powerful experience.
Another satisfying piece is being able to connect with the addict. As I look across the room at the addict while the families are reading the letters, I often see myself 20 years ago. Disconnected, lost, and alone. Crying out for help but too ashamed to ask for it.
On intervention day, there is a moment that I cannot describe in words. It is that moment when the addict accepts the treatment being offered. Afterwords, there is a always a silent pause, the family isn’t sure they heard themselves correctly. And then there is a tremendous amount of release, a peace and a calm washes over the room. A peace that I imagine hasn’t been there for a long, long time. And then the tears. I have experienced many amazing things in my life, but few things compare to that moment for me.
When the intervention has concluded and the addict agrees to go, then the addict and I, especially during transport to the treatment center, are able to share many deep and revealing thoughts and feelings. Sensing their relief and their little willingness to try opens up an avenue for them that they closed long ago. It is only a beginning, a beginning of which I, too, had that same opportunity to change…
It is an honor for me to help families in their times of needs, to help their loved ones to accept help. It is an honor to be there to witness the moment of change.
-Phil Kelly, CIS, CCDC, CADC
Interventionist for Intervention Services
