February 27, 2004

• Road Work

  
  

  It is tempting, and quite easy, to see “the road” as a metaphor for progress, for the process of the “work” Greyfox and I  have been doing this year.  All last summer I traveled that road alone at least twice a week while he lived in a tiny cabin at Felony Flats and worked his roadside stand there on the edge of Wasilla, fifty miles from here.  When cold and snow closed him down for the winter he moved back up here to this end of the Susitna Valley.  Since then, most of the trips we have made to town have been together.  We go in twice a week unless the weather and road conditions are horrible, for Narcotics Anonymous meetings.  He has made a few trips without me, when I was ill, or when it was strictly business that took him to town, and no reason for me to go along.

  
  

  We talk on those rides up and down the valley.  We do “therapy”, confrontational talk therapy for his NPD.  Those conversations usually happen in the mornings or early afternoons, on the way into town.  The nighttime conversations on the way home after meetings are usually about addiction and our Addicts Unlimited project.  There is no plan to this, we don’t set an agenda or say ahead of time that we will discuss something on the road.  Talk happens.  At home, he has his crossword puzzles and videos and I have the PS2, my games to occupy my mind and distract me.  On the road, with no distractions, we talk.

  
  

  The things we get done that way are significant, impressive enough to make me wonder how much we might get done together at home if we didn’t allow ourselves to slip into our separate pastimes.  But I don’t think either of us would welcome a lot more of that sort of intense confrontation we engage in going down the valley.  I, myself, certainly would not enjoy all-day, every-day immersion in my therapist-role.  As for the AU planning, plotting and discussions, that arises spontaneously from the things we hear and observe at meetings, and the hour or so that we have on the road to discuss them seems sufficient.  After we are home, one or the other of us writes stuff down and bit by bit the Addicts Unlimited thing comes together.

  
  

  Tonight on the way home, we had a little bit of talk, discussing the obvious NPD we had observed among the addicts at the meeting.  Narcissistic Personality Disorder is often seen in conjunction with dependence on various substances.  Published expert opinion varies on whether it’s the narcissists self-medicating or whether drug dependency fosters NPD, but for us there’s no question:  the NPD came first.  In recovery, NPD becomes a complicating factor.  It can make meetings “interesting”, for one thing, when two or more narcissists clash, vying for attention and narcissistic supply, or when one (usually quite inadvertently, even innocently) gives narcissistic injury to another by failing to grasp that the one whose ego becomes injured is the rightful owner of all authority and attention in the group.

  
  

  We talked a bit about the narcissist who had dominated tonight’s meeting.  Then we rode quietly for a while.  About halfway home, Greyfox spoke quietly and said he had something to report.  He described a situation he’d encountered today when he went to post a flyer promoting his booth for an upcoming gun show sponsored by the Lions Club.  This one particular bulletin board contained a notice to see the store manager for permission before posting anything.  The manager refused, saying that if it were for the Lions Club it would be acceptable, but since it was advertising the one particular vendor, he would have to say no.

  
  

  Greyfox told me, with quiet satisfaction, that he accepted it without an argument and without resentment.  Then he went on to say that once, not very long ago, he would have gotten angry.  He would probably have put up an argument, and tried to convince the man that he should make an exception for The Great Greyfox.

  
  

  I recognized the truth in that, and responded, “There have been many times that either Doug or I would look at the other after one of your NPD moments and ask, “Who the fuck does he think he is?”  He chuckled ruefully and said, “Now you know who:  The Great Greyfox.”  Then we laughed together.   This is progress.  That’s The Road, our road work, tonight’s version.

  

  • 3:04 am
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