photo by Cathy Connolly of the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation
A few years ago in a community located inside of Florida's Ocala National Forest, residents noticed a bear cub wandering behind its mother and sibling with a plastic jar stuck on its head. The bear family had obviously been eating out of the garbage bins, and now one of them was in trouble. Wildlife biologists, realizing that the cub would be unable to drink or eat, tried to trap the mother and rescue the cub. Residents dubbed the cub 'Jarhead' and called authorities whenever he was spotted. Mama bear proved elusive for ten days, but she was finally shot with a tranquilizer so her cub could be relieved of its headgear. The biologists then relocated the whole family into a deeper part of the national forest.
Like the bear cub, we can run around with our thinking completely obscured by our addiction. Caught in an endless loop of harmful behavior, we attempt to look and act normal while trying to manage our obsessions and compulsions. We may minimize ("I'm not as bad as..."), blame ("It's how I deal with the pain of..."), or rationalize ("This helps me..."). At some point, our habitual patterns usually make us miserable enough to see through our denial and realize we need to change. Yet like the bears who continued to run, we may not be willing to accept help: shame may make us feel unworthy or pride can convince us to do it on our own. But relief can be found when we admit we are powerless - that we simply don't have the knowledge, resources or supportive environment needed to stop this cycle. Regardless of what our ego (mama bear) might try to tell us, help isn't as awful as we might imagine. Just ask Jarhead.
For more information on powerlessness, see this post.
