By Rob Tonkin, author of Asshole: A Memoir
At the suggestion of my therapist at the time, I started writing to find catharsis. I brought pages I’d written to our sessions, which detailed past wounds, stories, and even dreams that triggered strong emotional responses. This writing became the foundation for highly effective EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) sessions. For those unfamiliar with it, EMDR is a therapy that helps the brain process and integrate traumatic memories, reducing their emotional impact. The process involves focusing on a traumatic memory while engaging in bilateral stimulation, such as eye movements or tapping.
There were times when therapy left me feeling like a lost and hopeless case. Oftentimes in those moments, I felt deep shame and blame, even over things that had nothing to do with me. My doctor consistently suggested that I join a twelve-step group, but I balked at the idea. “Those are for people with real problems,” I’d think to myself, clinging to a misguided sense of superiority. I’d heard whispers of cult-like practices, of trading one addiction for another, and the whole concept scared me. I was afraid of what I might find lurking in the shadows of my own psyche.
It took three and a half years of stubborn resistance before I finally relented during a period of intense personal turmoil. That’s when I discovered a fellowship founded in 1978—the same year my childhood was imploding. This program builds on the principles of the twelve steps and their traditions. Many members come from other twelve-step groups and appreciate that the program delves deeper into healing emotional wounds that trigger unwanted behaviors by providing tools for a better life. It hosts over 2,750 meetings globally.
There are millions of unwitting “adult children” in our society today. By offering a platform for individuals to share their experiences of growing up in abusive, neglectful, or traumatic environments, the program acknowledges the profound influence these experiences have on our lives. In recovery, I found a nurturing environment to confront my childhood pain, reflect on myself and my family honestly, and address and heal from deep-rooted traumas. The program promises liberation from shame and abandonment, guiding individuals to become compassionate caregivers to themselves—a process I now understand as reparenting my inner children. It’s an intentional practice of providing myself with the healthy emotional care, attention, nurturing, safety, support, structure, and love that was lacking in my childhood.
Despite my initial resistance, after attending meetings for two years and completing all twelve steps, I noticed a positive change in my life and found immense value in this community. This fellowship has been a cornerstone in my healing journey, and I happily recommend it to those seeking healing. However, a word of caution—while rewarding, recovery requires time, perseverance, and dedication. In other words, it requires “painful fucking work!”
One of my biggest triumphs on the path to healing is that accepting the truth is becoming easier. If an automatic thought pops into my head such as, “I should not have spoken like that,” or “Rob, you always seem to stir up trouble!” I am now able to recognize them as the inner voice of a critical parental figure or an upset child. With this recognition, I can change the inner dialogue and respond to myself—and the young boy who lacked attention, safety, love, and support—with compassion and understanding.
Other improvements have included an ability to stop blaming myself and others. Although this sounds simplistic, achieving it continues to take wrangling. Manipulating situations to gain what I subconsciously desired—control—was standard behavior and a way to keep myself safe. I was always looking ahead and preparing, planning every way to avoid falling. But now, I am choosing to let go, take the falls, and let life take me where it may. I have also grown to believe that all the answers to my questions are within me, and when I quiet my mind, I can hear them.
Since the age of ten, I’d danced with alcohol, cocaine, and marijuana addiction. At the mature age of fifty-seven, I decided to stop using drugs and alcohol to gain clarity. Marijuana, in particular, had become a crutch for me. I used it to feel normal in everyday situations like work or client meetings. I now realize how absurd this was. Like the rest of society, I’d become conditioned to seek the quick fix: take this pill, smoke this, drink this, snort this. It was 2019 when I stopped, realizing there was no fast track to getting healthy.
Eventually, I comprehended the significance of enduring hardship. It dawned on me that life isn’t always meant to be perfect. How I handle highs and lows plays a crucial role in my well-being. While embracing positivity is valuable, solely focusing on “Good vibes only” can lead me to a spiritual bypass of the true essence of life. I have successfully embraced sobriety, quitting cold turkey after a life of substance use and occasional binges of abuse. Although I was compulsive, a workaholic, I never saw myself as an addict or an alcoholic. Regardless, I am proud to say that I have no urges to partake in any of those acts again.
Rather than avoiding the wounds, I’ve leaned into them. This journey of recovery and self-discovery is one I delve into further in my book, Asshole: A Memoir. In it, I share how I buried myself in work and had to dig myself back out, detailing the life-changing steps that facilitated my transformation. Anyone wishing to find out more about the program I’ve discussed can go to the help desk on my website, www.robtonkin.com/help-desk, and be guided to more information.
