Episode 53: A Guy Walks Out of a Bar…

 

Addiction is the kind of topic where judgment is easy, and empathy is hard. Shame is at the core of addiction. It thrives best in secrecy when we feel most alone, and keeps stories like these hidden in the dark.

Lucas spent years, bouncing and skidding off the bottom before sobriety. But you know what they say: every unconscionable low point has a silver lining. 

Before long-term recovery, you could find Lucas on the road climbing full-time. He was the guy who could wax poetic around a campfire about all types of beverages of any kind, any continent. While the conditions that preceded him to drink were probably always there, living out of his truck and reducing his life to just climbing and nature made him realize he was empty on a different level.

Advisory: This episode that talks about alcohol and addiction talks about, well, alcohol. This story is told through the lens of Lucas Roman, and it isn’t meant to be comprehensive of everybody’s lived experience.

Take care of yourselves while listening and reach out for support if you or someone you know is struggling with substance use disorder and addiction.

For the Love of Climbing is presented by Patagonia. Additional support is from deuter USA, Allez Outdoor, and Ocún.

Music is by Chad Crouch. Additional music is licensed by Music Bed and Blue Dot Sessions.

Photo courtesy of Nathalie Boustani.

Catch up on podcast (pod-Kath?) updates and general life things: @inheadlights

This podcast is sponsored by BetterHelp. Because therapy is for everyone.

FLC is public media which means we’re supported by listeners like you. Donate or become a patron.

EPISODE TRANSCRIPT:

(KATHY KARLO): This podcast is presented by Patagonia. Not bound by convention, Patagonia’s in business to save our home planet.

- It’s 2023, and modern climbers are more accomplished than ever, and we don’t just mean on the wall. Patagonia has always seen the value in being bold, whether it means pushing highpoints or having the audacity to demand more for our planet.

So, what’s it mean to be a “strong climber”? Full commitment to the sport and to our communities. It means not just working towards futuristic first ascents but also, a better future. And we aren’t going to get there alone.

For Patagonia’s 50th year, we’re looking forward, not back and together, we can prioritize purpose over profit to protect this planet. Get involved, read stories to get you out there, and join a community that values what we do off the wall as much as we do on. Because we’re Bolder Together. Find out more at patagonia.com/climbing.


- We get support from deuter, one of the leading backpack brands that will help you hit the trails with confidence and comfort, but most importantly—your snacks. Founded in 1898, deuter believes in fit, comfort, and working in the long term to offset CO2 emissions by teaming up with Climate Partner to invest in social and climate offset projects worldwide for select product—including their Guide and Vertrail climbing packs.

deuter packs are PFC-free—meaning no forever chemicals and they honor their Promise Lifetime Warranty since their packs were meant to be on your back, and not in landfills. So, you can focus on way cooler things like puppies, pocket bacon, and gettin’ sendy—whether at the crag or in the alpine.


(FEMALE VOICE): Today we’re going to talk about “allez”. “Allez” means “come on!” in a way, or to encourage. Ok! We are done with the simple and normal uses of “allez”, now let’s cut to the chase:

(KK): Allez Outdoor Personal Care products are made by climbers for those who love the outdoors. Their rich and repairing ingredients for their skincare collection are inspired by desert landscapes, and their simple and recyclable packaging makes them eco-sustainable. Allez commits to protecting the open spaces that we love by partnering with the Access Fund and 1% for the Planet. That’s Allez Outdoor: “A-L-L-E-Z”). Allez Outdoor—made by climbers, for those who love the outdoors.


(KK): Who is Ocún? More than prolific crack climbing gloves, Ocún has been making innovative gear engineered for climbing to improve your performance since 1998. Their climbing shoe designs are all original, developed and manufactured in Czech Republic and completely, one hundred percent gender neutral. Beyond their sticky rubber, Ocún is renowned for their hardware, harnesses, and the biggest lightest crash pad on the market. Find your new favorite climbing shoes and accessories at Backcountry, Moosejaw, CampSaver, and Amazon.


(LUCAS ROMAN): You know, most alcoholics* have sort of this invisible line in the sand—you couldn’t totally define when it was. But there would be days where, you know, I’d just be at a bar with my buds and not getting wasted but having a few beers.

But even the fact that I would hide it from my girlfriend at the time because—this goes back to that early childhood like, always wanting to be in people’s good graces. I think mostly, I was just afraid of being judged. And so, I would just start to hide what I was doing.

(KK): Since we’ve started this show, we’ve had a couple episodes that explore addiction from a few different angles, and how it impacts those who experience it.

Addiction is the kind of topic where judgment is easy. Shame is at the core of addiction. It thrives best in secrecy when we feel most alone, and keeps stories like these hidden, in the dark.

It’s a chronic disease that changes both brain structure and function. But it’s not a sign of a weakness or character defect or metric of worth.

And it’s stories like this one that give us more people-centric focus on recovery, and remind us that our capacity to recognize experiences of shame runs parallel with growth.

(LR): And, at that point, I don’t think it was drinking alcoholicly. But I was getting the unfortunate “skill” (which really isn’t a skill), but I was learning to lie about it. And then, once you start doing that, of course, with any form of dishonesty, it just sorta feeds itself.

But there were times, even in those years, where I remember thinking, “Well, I should take a couple of weeks off drinking,” And I think I did a few times, but you’re “restless, irritable, and discontent” —is the terminology we say. And especially without the chosen vice, right? Usually, you’re ok when you’re on it, but really—your problems begin when you stop.

But, yeah. So, I think I knew I was [heading] in that direction probably long before. You know, we’re talking about living a rock climbing life where you’re outdoors all the time. But I was out there and it was clear to me. You know, I was still not really happy. I could chase all the sunsets in the world and climb whatever my limit of climbing was, and it wasn’t gonna fill a void.

And most people in recovery will tell you that even the use of alcohol itself is sort of just a topical thing for a much deeper condition. And so, the conditions that preceded me to be someone who drank alcoholically were probably always there in my life. 

They just really got exposed when I started living on the road because you kinda reduce your life to just nature. And you would think that’s enough to fill the void, and when it’s not, you’re like, “Oh, shit.”

(laughs)

If you got me around a campfire with a bunch of climbers and I’m the guy, of course, being obsessed—over the years, I became a certified sommelier. I was a home brewer. I could talk to you all day long—still can!—about all types of beverages of any kind, any continent, and the process to make it, et cetera.

So, if I could wax poetic on that shit while at a campfire, it was like—come on! I wouldn’t even say I was pressured in any way by that culture to further that tendency of behavior. If anything, I probably put it on people—

(laughs)

You know, people are out there wanting to go to bed early so they can climb well the next day, and I was the guy being like, “Let’s just sit by this fire and empty another bottle.”

So, that’s my experience. I do think that the party lifestyle—a bit of a rebel culture—is innate to the climbing culture, especially in the early days. And we may collectively be moving a little bit into a more expanded point of view these days, as a community.

But, yeah. No doubt, there are gonna be people, and there have been people, I think, whose situations in life or vices—the climbing life can empower those. And I think it sorta did to me, but I wouldn’t abdicate. Ultimately, it was all my choosing, for sure.

But I do think it’s a lifestyle that enables people to live that way—if that’s what they’re prone to in the first place.


(ALEX HONNOLD) (to himself): Ok, I’m Alex Honnold. You’re listening to the love of climbing podcast. It’s a funny, sad, somewhat uncomfortable podcast—

(louder)

I was like, “Wow, this is the opposite of my podcast. But, you know, here we go!”

(laughs)

(upbeat music)

“I’m Alex Honnold and you’re listening to For the Love of Climbing—”

—is it “to the”? Or “to—“ Do you say “to For the Love of Climbing Podcast”?

“I’m Alex Honnold and you’re listening to For the Love of Climbing Podcast.”

Yeah. Yeah, I see it.

You’re listening to For the Love of Climbing Podcast. This is not a climbing podcast. Well, sorta. It’s a funny, sad, and somewhat uncomfortable podcast about choosing vulnerability. Here’s the show.”

Easy cheesy!

(KK): Hey, a quick heads up. This episode that talks about alcohol and addiction recovery talks about, well, alcohol. This story is told through the lens of Lucas Roman, and it isn’t meant to be comprehensive of everybody’s lived experience.

Take care of yourselves while listening and reach out for support if you or someone you know is struggling with substance use disorder and addiction.

- The year is 2023. Booze has been around since circa the late Stone Age. But a lot has changed since then.

The science community, along with many others, has been rejecting terms like “addict” and “alcoholic” and recommend non-pejorative, person-first language with the hope to increase better recovery outcomes.

These terms can carry a lot of cultural baggage and stigma. This podcast recognizes that there are more appropriate and clinically accepted words, and we’ll try and utilize them when we can.

Inevitably, with new understanding will come new language, and this episode is meant to focus on how we can better understand and support people in long-term recovery.

(LR): So, my name is Lucas Roman. I am currently living in Orange County—Costa Mesa is the city. And I am a student in nursing, rock climber, sometimes I do writing, and anything else I can do to help other people, I suppose.

Within my arc and my development as a person, I have had plenty of low points and misbehaves—

(laughs)

—quite a bit.

So, these days, it’s a very important part of my life to pursue a whole-hearted kindness and honesty within my relationships. It’s like a point of pride. My life goes better when I have a certain amount of discipline and structure and honesty and all that as a part of it.

My general background—I’m not sure how it all works out. I think you’d call me first generation—maybe? ‘Cause my parents came from Mexico. So, it was definitely a big part of our family’s identity—our Mexican culture. At the same time, my parents grew up in an era where they were—

(pauses)

—maybe partially persecuted for what they represented as immigrants. And so, it was a decision they made together to raise my brother and myself and my younger sister speaking English as a first language.

So, we did lose quite a bit of that from a culture point of view. But I think with food and family holidays and traditions—we’re still quite Mexican. I think the slang term you’d say is: “pocho”. So, [I’m a Mexican] who’s lost his culture.

(KK): Lucas had a good childhood. And when he was around twelve, his parents divorced.

(LR): It was difficult at the time, no doubt. It was an uprooting of identity. And it probably didn’t make us any more Mexican—back to that point because—

(laughs)

—you know. You lose more culture when your nuclear family sorta dissipates. But all that said, my sense of identity was never that attached to any one ethnicity or country.

I can’t say—and I don’t mean any disrespect to anybody who is deeply American and has that sense of patriotism, but I didn’t come from that culture in terms of having a family that appreciated being proudly American, nor was it Mexican.

So, I’d never really had an attachment to like, “Am I this?” or “Am I that?” I never felt afflicted or persecuted for being either, but neither celebrated—if that sort makes sense. Just kinda floated through it.

You know, if it’s sort of more in the collective awareness of people these days to be inclusive in the outdoor arenas or in life, in general, I think that’s a super good point of progress. When I started, there definitely wasn’t as much ethnic diversity in the sport as I came into it. But also, like I said earlier, I never really felt like that was the measure of acceptance or not.

So, I don’t think I was even as aware of how little inclusiveness there was in the collective community until it started becoming a little bit en vogue to focus on it. I’m like, “Oh, yeah! This is totally kinda one-dimensional,” in terms of demographic. But I can’t really say that I felt separate or different or not a part of the climbing community.

I’m really happy to see where it’s going and where it’s gone, and I am even more happy when I do see people of ethnic backgrounds and diversity, or particularly people of Latin backgrounds, at a crag. And if I get a chance to share an element of culture, whether that’s music or language or a discussion about food or whatever, it’s really nice to feel that freedom to talk about all topics that you otherwise wouldn’t get if that people group wasn’t a part of it.

I didn’t carry a great awareness to feeling like an outsider at all. I think I was really treated well by everybody. Like, the day I first walked into a climbing gym, there was a handful of kids that very easily could have been exclusive and not welcoming, and they were anything but.

And for that stage of my life, it was, I mean—incredible. So, I guess I was fortunate to walk into that.

(emphatically) Gosh. I was—who was I? A lost little fellow.

The real roots of me getting into climbing were predicated on that story I told you about my dad. You know, we’d go outside as kids. We weren’t super poor, but we were not wealthy by any measure, as well.

So, you could go out to nature and just pull off on the side of the road. And the few times a year there’s snow in southern California, you can ride an inner tube or a sled down. You don’t need to buy a lift ticket. And that, for us, would be a quality outdoor experience.

And, you know, a hawk might fly by and my dad would just be like, “Hey, mijo—check this out.” Like, somewhere in there, we’ve got forefathers who respect this sort of biology and life cycle in nature—and it was profound. And so, I think I always wanted to connect to that. 

I didn’t have any sort of an outdoor activity in that avenue until high school when I started surfing. But also, surfing can feel pretty urban and not necessarily very natural if you’re doing it in Newport Beach or Huntington Beach and you turn around from shore, and there’s a bunch of buildings. It’s not like you’re out in the wilderness.

So, climbing came about because my dad and my uncle teamed up, and I think they went to an REI class and learned how to build a top rope anchor. They bought a very small, three-piece rack with some nuts and stuff, and they went out to Joshua Tree a handful of times when I was in junior high.

And, for all I knew back then, they were going to some distant corner of the earth. I would stay at home. This was just something Dad would do—and probably only no more than a handful of times. But when you’re a kid, this imagination runs wild.

Somewhere in that time, my dad got a subscription to a Rock & Ice or a Climbing Magazine. And one day, I came home from school—of course, young and naive. And I opened up the mailbox and on the cover is—I believe it was Thomas Huber on El Cap—the Salathe roof pitch.

And, you know, he’s hanging off one arm by a piton and [there’s] just all this exposure beneath him, which just blew my little childhood mind away. And the seed was planted there.

(KK): Lucas did a little bit of climbing at a local gym at various points during high school, but it didn’t really turn that corner until somewhere in early 2007.

(LR): Somehow, that image of Thomas Huber came to mind and I was like, “Well, there’s a climbing gym not far away.”

I went in there and I just knew right away. Like, that’s what I’m gonna do this year. And this was 2007. And so, I think I cleared out my checking account which, at the time, couldn’t have had more than five or six hundred dollars and that was the cost of a year membership.

So, I just paid it in full and said, “Let’s do this.” I walked in and met those people and, of course, once that happens, you’re gonna plug into the community. 

And so, by spring or June of 2008, me and a few guys were trying the Salathe Wall and we were twenty pitches up and had an amazing experience. But we didn’t summit!

(laughs)

We got totally shut down! So, that was within fourteen, sixteen months [that I went from beginner] to doing whatever I could to going outside and then, going for longer trips outside. And at first, that starts with your local crags. You know, Southern California, Joshua Tree, Taquitz, Suicide.

And I didn’t really hit the road as like, a decided road trip living out of my truck and being itinerant in place-to-place until the fall of 2008. And I would say, from the fall of 2008 until fall of 2010, most everything in my life was ordered around: how could I work as little as possible and climb as much as possible?

I was looking for a new direction in life, but also, it probably would have been good to have a check-and-balance—and I didn’t.

Until I met my significant other, I probably couldn’t have been more self-centered. Which again, I can see how useful that life has been now that I’m, hopefully, not living on that pathway. But it woulda been nice to have a few anchor points to sorta pull me back.

And I mean, in no way am I even near carrying a halo over my head. I’ve got plenty of defects of character but largely, I live a way better life and a life that I’m proud of that is honest and moral to my version of what that is.

I definitely wasn’t living that way back then, although I wasn’t doing anything egregious. Like, it’s just climbing. It’s not—

(laughs)

—illegal! Or anything like that. But it wasn’t just climbing prowess and getting some grades ticked. I’ve just always had this deep desire for beauty and a connection to it. And back then, it was primarily my means to find connectivity, and rapture and revelation was in the outdoor experience. 

So. It was a great thing to have done but, obviously, we can get into imbalances if all we’re seeking is—not just the next climbing grade, but the next sunset that we’re chasing. Because while those are beautiful and they do connect you, they don’t give you purpose alone.

And I’m not giving back to others or to the earth if I’m just taking all these beautiful pictures of it or something. I think with enough time, everybody will ask questions of purpose and direction. And I had to make some discoveries through time. 

(KK): Lucas did what so many dream of—he initiated van life and chose the dirtbag existence in order to climb full-time.

(LR): On the trajectory, I think I got exactly what I needed from those two years. Because within six months, it was clear on the nights that I was by myself in my tent:

Those open solitary spaces were all I needed to realize I was probably empty on a different level internally—that I was chasing something through climbing and through nature that I couldn’t necessarily fill.

And I didn’t wanna accept that realization at the time, but I was having those moments of clarity where like, “Ok, there’s some misconnection or deep loneliness within.” And I think my tool that I always used was to just drink through that and to use alcohol as a means chase further euphoria and revelation.

But, looking back, that’s probably when I started using that more than just a casual person’s way to do it. And yeah, probably some of that was genetic. There’s a lot of alcoholism in my family’s history and many economically challenged people’s histories, as well.

So, whether it’s a function or nature of nurture, or probably both, I would look back and say that my alcoholism was starting to really thrive in those years when I was on the road. Because if nothing else, it was something I could turn to and it would be a temporary, I think, delusion that I was fine and connected and felt spritzy and lovely and in unison to both the earth and my fellow man. 

And when I came home and decided to be a part of a relationship, it was really difficult to sort of domesticate myself, having spent a few years out living freely and wildly. So, that’s when, of course, the drinking went way further because, well, now I’m living in a normal city like common folk and I just didn’t have skills to live well.

And so, I drank my way through it, which quickly went from a thing I did every day to just an uncontrollable obsession. And I guess a way I would put it is—primarily, what I was chasing through drinking was the connection I always craved through the outdoor experience.

It gave me a version of that, or a delusion of that, and a euphoria and a chemical buzz that I probably interpreted as the “good life”. Inevitably, I got obsessed with chasing that feeling.

And then, that obsession led to a physical addiction. And probably in that order, although, whether it’s genetically influenced or not—I think if you feed somebody enough of what I was drinking for a long enough period of time, you’re gonna get hooked on it.

And so, yeah. That led into a very—

(slight pause)

—rough…

(trails off)

—you know, my poor partner, man. She really dealt with some tough stuff, ‘cause I didn’t have any skills for life. I could not be honest. I didn’t know how to do anything that incorporated other people that wasn’t thinking beyond myself and my selfish needs.

And I think I worked at restaurants and I made attempts to keep climbing here and there, but largely, I lost the discipline for climbing. I couldn’t climb outside due to just always being someone who’s chasing, you know, the next buzz.

(KK): At some point, in many but not all trajectories, people with alcohol use disorder stop drinking for a chemical buzz alone.

(LR): Once you’re really in the addiction, physically speaking, you’ll have a couple of withdrawal experiences that are just terrible. The scientists can spell those out. And so, that window for each person can be a various amount of time. For me, that was probably like, I’d say anywhere from 2012 to 2014 when I finally found a sense of sobriety.

Those two years were just like, drinking every day until you could go to bed. But really, you’re not trying to get buzzed at all. It stops kinda working that way. And, you know, nobody can live a life that’s that dishonest to their selves and their significant others and have a clear conscience.

And when I tried to turn my life to an “ordered life” that most people would say is a “good” thing. You know, you wanna live for and with another person and build a life together—that’s when I found I was totally incapable. And then, of course, the drinking ultimately took hold.

(KK): Lucas considered himself fortunate to have hit a low point that he found unconscionable because eventually, this low point would give him the gift of sobriety, he says.

But before things could move in a better direction, the things he cared about the most suffered the consequences.

(LR): I think there was a period where it was going ok—

(sputters)

Performance-wise, I was never drinking that much during the day where you would say it was a liability and: “This guy’s drunk on the wall!” or anything like that. There was a period of time that it probably worked to quell a little bit of fear and to center my ability. And I think that it was a short window, but—it was there.

And then, it very quickly, though, did digress. Eventually, I couldn’t really climb outside—especially what I loved to do—you know, multi-pitch, bigger endeavors. Something where you’re on the wall all day. You’re out in nature. You’re gonna just sorta get into that state of depravity and dehydration.

And that’s like, I mean, go back to Doug Robinson and the climber’s visionary. That’s like, in climbing history. There’s this spiritual quest in our pursuits and we go up there for a realization, revelation. That’s what I wanted from climbing from day one—and probably from alcohol, too.

And so, I would, at times, be on these multi-pitch climbs with partners and I’d bring a little flask. And yeah, sometimes you know, like, “Come on, it’s for the summit!” and it wouldn’t be judged. But ultimately, I just had to stop all the kinds of climbing that I liked to do the most because it meant that I’d be further separated from drinking and withdrawal.

Also, when I was on lead, I was in a divided mind. I was totally not comfortable with myself. Am I in balance? Have I been honest with the people I care about? Is there any imbalance? Like, should I be climbing today? Or should I actually be home, helping to do the landscaping that we gotta do or something?

For me, if I can answer those questions appropriately, things just line up. In those days, everything was not lined up and I was dishonest to everybody. I wasn’t showing up for my duties as a son, as a significant other, as an employee—whatever.

So, the sum total of the tension that I carried and the sense that my body was screaming to not leave the alcohol source for any extended period of time—I couldn’t be a part of those situations. It took away. I wouldn’t say “it” took away. Like, “it’s” not the issue. It’s the condition within me that creates the issue. 

Yeah, you just—eventually, you’re incapable [of doing] anything good or consequential in life. Climbing, of course, would be also one of those things.

And so, I was full of fear. I couldn’t comfortably lead. I didn’t have a good self-concept, and all of those things put together made climbing just terrible. Which meant, you know, the easiest way to do that was just to not go climbing anymore.

You could convince yourself that it was responsible, but ultimately, it was a distraction. So, my climbing suffered greatly, as did many things—my relationships to other people, my relationship within myself, and to the outdoor experience.

(KK): Lucas still had some ambition, though. And he and his partner would try climbing in the gym a few days a week—with a few requisites in place.

(LR): I wound insist: “I’ll drive—my car,“ —‘cause I’ve got bottles stashed in there. I had to take alcohol everywhere. It would be on my person or in the men’s bathroom, so that if my partner wanted to climb—in just the fifteen minutes that she’s lead climbing and I’m belaying her is enough for me to go to the men’s locker, take a drink of my flask or whatever, and then, go about.

So, there was just nothing I could do without having that present. Being the kind of person that you and I would probably agree we wanna be in terms of someone who can really push ourselves outside and come to our limits—I was so incapable.

I mean, I couldn’t even walk out the front door without having a panic attack if I didn’t have alcohol. In recovery, we call these all ‘war stories’. At the end of the day, though, we also learn in recovery and sobriety that those things are not standout at all.

And maybe not everybody who’s in a recovery situation is also a rock climber, and therefore, doesn’t have the exact stories of alcoholic behavior that I do, but you go far enough down the path and you just can’t do anything without having a drink or a drug close to you.

You can’t sleep for more than a few hours. You wake up with it by the bed. You know, you take a couple shots—whatever to quiet your mind and fall back asleep. And usually, in the morning, you wake up with an impulse to vomit or dry heave. And then, you take a drink as quickly as you can to stop your shakes.

And then, hopefully, make a goal to carry through to three or four in the afternoon to not have a drink. But, of course, the moment any shakes or withdrawal symptoms came in, I was having a drink. And maybe you’re not on the hard stuff yet—and maybe you are, depends on the day.

And then, by four o’clock, I’m getting ready for the restaurant shift and, of course, you need a few just to get you loose enough to operate. And then, you come home and you do it all over.

I mean, it’s not so much how much you had. It’s about what it was doing to you. But I’d say it’s pretty common practice for most people to be at that stage where drinking a full 750-milliliter bottle of any hard alcohol substance—vodka, whiskey, whatever.

That’s a guarantee you’re probably hitting that, and then, a few things on the side. Some cups, rather than glasses—like, cups of wine or beer or whatever.

But that’s also not to say that if someone’s listening and they’re thinking, “Well, am I or am I not an alcoholic?” 

Like, just ‘cause you’re not drinking that same amount, it’s probably not a justification if you know in the inner corridors of your heart that you’re not living the way you want to. You know, the honesty comes in other ways. And so, it’s really not about the amount. It’s about why we’re doing it we’re doing it.

KK): We had a few questions about the difference between “binge drinking” and “alcohol use disorder”, so we turned to a professional to help us break it down.

This is Pete Murphy. He’s a licensed chemical dependency professional and has been working as a trauma and addiction therapist since 2010. 

(PETE MURPHY): Hi, Kathy. Thanks for having me on.

So, binge drinking is considered to be four or five drinks on the same occasion, and that’s according to SAMHSA, which is the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Service Administration. It’s not terribly uncommon for most people who choose to start using alcohol to have at least one episode of binge drinking in their life according to those parameters.

For binge drinking or any alcohol use, to cross over into a diagnosable alcohol use disorder, the use has to have met certain base criteria, and this is according to the DSM, which is the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

So, without listing out all the criteria, it mostly states that if your use more than once in a twelve-month period has resulted in you drinking more than you intended to, a lack of control over your use, preoccupation with drinking, cravings, impacts at work, home, school or relationships, increased tolerance, and presence of withdrawal—you may meet the criteria for an alcohol use disorder. And again, this is just coming from medical model.

From a humanistic model, I would say that if you do an honest examination of your use of alcohol or other substances and think about the criteria I just listed, you need to decide if your alcohol use is harmful to you. The big scary question is: can I always drink in safety?

So, you can always check with a therapist, the SAMHSA website, or even a primary care physician. They can give you a basic screening if you need more guidance with sorting that out

In regards to the term “addict” or “alcoholic”, they’re not medical terms and, for some, they can be seen as hurtful, derogatory, and shame-inducing—especially “addict” unless you identify that way. 

I think it is up to you to decide if you identify as an “alcoholic”, and that term was most popularized by Alcoholics Anonymous.

Even seemingly quiet struggles with substance use can be horrific experiences for people, so I think how you choose to talk about it or identify yourself in relation to it is really very personal. 

(LR): Because it’s a universal language and a safe space, I’ll go to a little bit of the recovery talk. And so, the terminology we use is that you’re in a state of “incomprehensible demoralization”. You know, you’re restless, irritable, and discontent. And that’s the daily life experience.

And so, if your operating system is that bad—you can’t even step behind it or above it to look at it—you don’t really have the chance to analyze it as you would today with maybe a mindfulness practice. I mean, nine times out of ten you’re so distracted by just trying to live the next moment. So, it’s just this constant experience or barrage of just trying to get yourself out of the shit you’re getting yourself into.

But those few moments would come and, of course, those periods were terrible because I had no tools to live. Any time I could actually reflect on my position or stead in life, man—it was just like, you’re not proud. You’re demoralized. To levels that you couldn’t comprehend.
If I would have said, “Well, check back in a month from now,”— a month from now, I guarantee you I would have been like, “There’s no way I could wake up, look myself in the mirror with this much self-loathing.”

And, sure enough, you go ahead a month and you’re like—

(laughs)

—“Oh, my god! I feel so much worse about who I am. I’m a terrible person! I’m lying to everybody. I’m stealing. I’m doing—“—like, anything you can, by hook or crook. Yeah. It’s a bad place to be. I’m glad—

(laughs)

—I’m glad we’re out of that one.

(both laugh)

I’m so happy about all of it now that [I’m out of it]. I’m just—damn. I’m blessed. You know? But it is not pretty when it happens—for anyone with any sort of addiction or “ism”, if you will.

You gotta get to a breaking point and usually, you gotta go through quite a few of them because when shit really hits the fan, we’re really good at lowering our standards to: “Ok—I guess I never thought I’d be doing this, but I can go a little lower.” 

So, yeah. I had to hit a bottom. What mine looked like is not gonna be what the next guy’s is. But it was enough time living in that daily “incomprehensible demoralization” and lying and cheating and stealing [from] every person and institution around me, that I just couldn’t handle it.

At the same time, the alcohol was so bad that as much as I had to drink just to not be in withdrawal was also destroying my liver and my body. Like, at that point, I was checking into the hospital probably every couple of weeks. Like, you can feel, one hundred percent, that your body is failing you—that it cannot take the demand you’re putting on it.

Combined with that moral or mental illness and just all those dark corridors that you’re living in. So, it’s a combination of a lot of those things.

And then, my significant other also came to a point where she had to move out, and she did it very lovingly and made it very clear. She came to a realization for herself that she always is the type who would wanna fix other people, and do so from a really beautiful and pure heart. But she had to admit her own powerlessness.

No amount of goodwill and love could change my course, and that was really hard. But it was also, I think, liberating for her because it’s toxic. It’s terrible, to anyone, to suffer being the significant other of somebody who’s actively in the pits of that despair.

So, she moved out and that was one of those points where I understood how helpless I was, because it wasn’t as if I was being productive or paying rent. At this point, she’s probably carrying everything financially. I probably couldn’t even cook my own food most days of the week. I have no idea how I even got through these days—which is probably why I was always in the hospital.

I can’t even remember because, near the end of your drinking, you start to go on these progressive binges where it’s just like, six to eight days of—whoa. You’re so lucid that it’s almost like hallucinating.

And so, these benders or binges just kinda get longer and longer. Somewhere in the middle of one of them, as often happens, there’s kinda this moment of clarity. At least, enough to reach out. And so, I think I called her or my dad—or both.

I agreed to go to a detox and rehab facility. I would love to say that that was the cure-all, but what I learned from that was that—Oh, if you actually get a medically supervised detox to stave off the withdrawal, you get some benzodiazepines or something.

It’s a shitty way to get straight. But really, what you’re getting—in recovery speech is—you’re getting “dry”. Like, you’re getting that shit out of your system, but you’re not getting a solution on how to live. If you’re not actually having those tools to live correctly, life’s gonna get the better of you.

And you’re not actually sober. You’re just kinda—what we say is “dry” or “on a dry drunk”. You’re not in the solution of living. And so, I had a good summer of that where I was reaching out for help, but not willing to really do what was required.

And people really get roadblocked there a lot, I think.

(KK): Lucas had spent a summer sort of bouncing and skidding off the bottom. And it happened again, and again and again—where he’d check himself into a detox or rehab center, stay a week or a few days, check out, and then, back in again. 

(LR): In that stage as a total newcomer, I just wasn’t ready for the social setting of being around alcohol yet. And so, I went to a friend’s wedding where I was supposed to be the best man and I just told myself, “Well, I gotta honor my duty,” and made it this duty-bound thing when really, I knew I was gonna drink.

Up until the point that you really declare that you’re an alcoholic or whatever “ism” you have, you kinda have this naivety, but once you claim it and you know there’s a solution, you’re fully responsible. Right? A huge part of recovery is just sharing it freely with other people.

Up until the point that you really declare that you’re an alcoholic or whatever “ism” you have, you kinda have this naivety, but once you claim it and you know there’s a solution, you’re fully responsible. Right?

A huge part of recovery is just sharing it freely with other people. And so, it’s really just to let anybody who may listen understand that, wherever they’re at, if that’s something they’re dealing with—there is so much opportunity and hope, just a phone call or a handshake away.

I think it’s important to paint that landscape so somebody can understand that if that’s the make-up of their day-to-day life, there’s such a good solution on the other end of it. So, hopefully, that helps in some way for someone.

There’s a lot of people who have taken the basic, simple premise of what those steps in recovery fellowships are and they have sort of complicated them. And I think—it’s been my experience—that the closer you stay to the source and do it through the literature as it’s indicated, with a sponsor or a guide, I think that’s where you get the best results.

So, with that said, in the steps themselves, you have an inventory process where you really uncover all your shit from your entire life. And it’s this beautiful thing; it’s literally a spiritual experience.

And it’s amazing because the end result of the fourth and fifth step where you then, really kinda disclose all of your shit—there’s a level of honesty that you are required to submit to that frees the fuck out of your mental state. It’s the best way I can put it. 

You’re dishing all of your dirtiest shit to somebody and you think, “I’m gonna be so full of shame.” But there’s a power in declaring your position and all those things. And it’s hard to summarize all the beauty and the magic in each individual step, but just trust that there is a pathway to be free of guilt and shame.

And a part of that is also amending that past. So, I’ve definitely made mistakes as you’ve heard, and other ones that you haven’t that I’ve had to make amends for. Others that I’m actively making amends.

And so, by all intents and purposes, if I meet that person again, I’m so excited to do the best to give an honest and sincere amend. And that’s not just an apology, but that’s doing anything I can.

But I think that when you’ve spent years living in that depravity, and then you start to adopt a behavior—and, at this point, it’s been six or something years for me. You build this resumé if you will, or this catalog of good living, of esteemable action. And you’ve amended. You’re paying it back actively, in installments in my case. 

Any of those things give you a sense of esteem for where you are in your process that I think totally trumps the guilt and the shame. Because you realize that redemption’s a process. You don’t get absolved from that shit overnight. It came piecemeal for me, but there was a sense of peace and a freedom from that shame and that guilt that came pretty quickly—just from not drinking. Just for being sober.

I was taught very quickly that there’s more to this whole thing than just not drinking, that’s for sure.

(KK): We’re gonna take a short break—so don’t go anywhere. Or…we’re a podcast. You can take us everywhere.


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(LR): I would just say those two-step experiences—like, the inventory and the declaring that—the fourth and fifth step—and then, the eighth and ninth where you really make amends—it scared the shit out of me! I’m not gonna lie. And I just knew in the pit of my stomach—I gotta start this process and I’ve been kicking this can down the road.

And, of course, the moment I started on it, there was a grace and a freedom that came through the interaction with the person. A humility, a brokenness, a vulnerability—all of that stuff, man. It was a fucking moving experience. And, man. That—nobody does that in normal life unless you have to, right?

Like, when you’re an alcoholic* or any “ism”, if you know your life depends on doing these things, then, yeah. You’re going to have the willingness. But that I see as a gift of this condition because most people don’t have a condition in life that forces them to live that way.

I am not an honest guy by default, but with a set of tools and enough time, I’ve learned with grace how to move in that direction. And so, it’s just something that’s been really practiced.

(KK): Lucas’ life looks a lot different these days. He graduated nursing school, wrote a couple of books, and he still believes in being a student of life. And if you meet him at the crag or in the mountains, chances are you’ll share a few laughs rather than a few drinks, and he’ll treat you like you’re an old friend.

He’s still writing, running, and climbing through life, a little lighter, a little wiser—and with a lot more joy.


(LR): Today, climbing is a fundamental part of my life. I would say, more a perspective than an actual activity. To me, that’s how it should be. It’s something I’m always thinking about and operating with. I just love climbing completely:

The ability to be outdoors on those few occasions I get them. To move my body through space and gravity in a way that’s thought-provoking, that’s in tune, synchronized, and harmonious. The dance, itself, is fantastic. And it’s great when you can do it without a guilty conscience.

Because in the past, I would go to climbing maybe to run away from life. And these days, it’s sort of like the last little treat to adorn your dessert or something. Life is full and it’s beautiful—without climbing. But these days, when I get to, it’s just like that additional thing. I don’t take it for granted and I’m very happy.

I definitely love the performance aspect to always try hard because it forces you to engage with failure, and there’s a beautiful relationship you can have with growth and failure if done, I think, appropriately, that’s not demoralizing, but that’s super empowering.

And then, of course. I love the community, so I keep it close. It’s been the mark of my time in sobriety. Being able, as a storyteller or writer, to share those stories of people and what climbing does for them. It’s basically just outward-facing. Like, I’m always gonna love it and try hard.

But climbing and my relationship to it these days is: it’s just a beautiful tool that keeps me plugged into others and allows me to, hopefully, share other people’s stories. That’s where I get the most inspiration from.

I just heard a few interviews that ol’ Largo did recently. We’ve had correspondence, so I don’t mean to speak for him or anything, but it seems like he’s kind of coming a little bit formally out of a closeted space with his conditions and where he’s been in his past.

I think, when you have a pillar like him and what he represents in our climbing history expressing that, it’s extremely powerful. I don’t think I have much influence or reach on the community. I just am happy to stay right-size and influence my circle of friends in life and be outward-facing with what my condition is.

As a community, with our pursuits toward better inclusion, equity, and representation. I’m optimistic for all of that. I mean, I’ve only got my experience and I’m glad there’s a lot of others—with other conditions and other points of view that can help.

But I’m super optimistic, ultimately, because my experience with people in sobriety is that those who stay sober and practice it continue to get lives and evolutions of themselves, or iterations of themselves, that are just mind-blowingly good.

(laughs)

(exhales)

My relationship to that process of being broken and finding recovery has made me very much aware of other people who are struggling in life—with anything. I don’t know if I consider myself a writer, but all the stories I’ve come to tell have been usually about people who have had hardships.

And I think that when we go through and get through those hardships in life, we are so much more equipped to navigate them with others. We almost long for other people.

The mark of my life is that the longer I’ve been able to maintain sobriety, which I see as a gift, the more I’m able to be useful to others.

So, if the collective consciousness of a climbing community or outdoor community is gonna take the time to be inward-facing and take that inventory and ask ourselves who we are and who we wanna become, and then, hear more stories and be more inclusive—ultimately, that’s just gonna make us more useful to other people.

So, hopefully, as a collective, I think that as long as the culture is willing to have more conversations about who we really are as humans besides who we are as just climbers, I think we’re gonna make huge strides.

And, sure. We’ve got some liabilities, but the climbing community is, I think, a great thing to be a part of. I think, more than most situations in life, you’ll find that that these communities just want you to thrive.

They want you to surmise your challenges to find success and to hopefully attach to something bigger than yourself. Like, the beauty of the natural world—and or the connection to the people that are also there doing it.

(KK): This podcast is proudly presented by Patagonia. Additional support from deuter USA, Allez Outdoor, and Ocún.

Visit fortheloveofclimbing.com for resources and support, and you can find more of Lucas Roman’s writing at diangelopublications.com.

**Producer’s note: The science community, along with many others, have been rejecting terms like “addict” and “alcoholic” and recommend non-pejorative, person-first language with the hope of increasing better recovery outcomes.

These terms can carry a lot of cultural baggage and stigma. This podcast recognizes that there are more appropriate and clinically accepted words, and we’ll try and utilize them when we can.

Inevitably, with new understanding will come new language, and this episode is meant to focus on how we can better understand and support people in long-term recovery.


Additional Resources, and Credible Organizations and Web Sites:

Everything You Need To Know About Addiction

Addiction is not a sign of weakness, a character flaw, or a moral failure. It is a common condition that affects millions of people of all ages, backgrounds, and socioeconomic groups. And while there is no one cause of addiction, there is hope—it can be treated effectively.

Words Matter: The Language of Addiction

A person shouldn’t be defined or labeled by his or her disease or illness, it is something they have. For example: Instead of calling someone a “diabetic,” it’s preferable to use person-first language and say “someone with diabetes.” The same goes with the word “addict.”

SSW grad student in long-term recovery from addiction takes on stigmatizing language: Don’t Call Jessica Lareau an Alcoholic. To Her, Words Matter

National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism | Understanding Alcohol Use Disorder

Alcohol use disorder (AUD) is a medical condition characterized by an impaired ability to stop or control alcohol use despite adverse social, occupational, or health consequences. It encompasses the conditions that some people refer to as alcohol abuse, alcohol dependence, alcohol addiction, and the colloquial term, alcoholism.

National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism | Treatment for Alcohol Problems: Finding and Getting Help

This guide is written for individuals, and their family and friends, who are looking for options to address alcohol problems. It is intended as a resource to understand what treatment choices are available and what to consider when selecting among them.

NIAAA recently launched the NIAAA Alcohol Treatment Navigator. This online tool helps you find the right treatment for you — and near you. It guides you through a step-by-step process to finding a highly qualified professional treatment provider. Learn more at https://alcoholtreatment.niaaa.nih.gov.

SAMHSA’s National Helpline

SAMHSA’s National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders.

SAMHSA’s National Helpline, 1-800-662-HELP (4357) (also known as the Treatment Referral Routing Service), or TTY: 1-800-487-4889 is a confidential, free, 24-hour-a-day, 365-day-a-year, information service, in English and Spanish, for individuals and family members facing mental and/or substance use disorders. This service provides referrals to local treatment facilities, support groups, and community-based organizations.

Moving Away from the Terms “Alcoholic” and “Alcoholism”

Although the terms alcoholic and alcoholism are often used in discussions about heavy drinking, the science community has been moving away from these terms for years now.

“Aperture Alike” written by Lucas Roman

Aperture Alike began when the author first walked into a rock-climbing gym, and soon after, a community, more than a decade ago. A community held up by friends, mentors, and unlikely prophets of the steep, which quickly presented a fantastic, intoxicating path; a lifestyle without equal.

While the sensational, rugged, and itinerant chapters - from high peaks to depraved inner landscapes – of the outdoor life came together, one facet soon became clear. The inner journeys of those friends, mentors, and homely prophets far exceeded any outward feat of will.

Aperture Alike attempts to shine light into the deeper realities, the inner character swings and the unplanned arcs of those who have both devoted themselves to an outside craft, and to defining themselves apart from it. Aperture Alike is a collection of short stories about community, about people pursuing their own immutably holy center point, in the midst of a life defined by trials and tribulation.

“The Greater Fool: Brad Gobright and the Blinding Shine of Originality” written by Lucas Roman

For as long as stories have been told, we’ve had a peculiar fascination with the wayward among us, with those we call the fools. Our histories are flush with those who stand at the edge of reason, of those who see what others cannot.

Among the archetypes, the Greater Fool holds a most special place within the canon. Standing there unphased after the dust and the punchlines settle, the Greater Fool is the one who hangs on when all others let go, the one who turns into the storm when all common sense and foot traffic points the other way.

Where the world around them sees only an empty promise, the Greater Fool maintains there is yet worth to be discovered still. Intrepid and unwitting as they may be, they’re also the ones we need. As irony would have it, in every Greater Fool there’s just enough magic to pull us back in their direction. Just enough light for truth to shine an arc of redemption.

This is the story of Brad Gobright, one such anomaly who shined for us all a most special and unending light.

Thank you so much to Lucas Roman and Peter Murphy for their help creating this episode.

 
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Episode 54: Good Mom, Bad Mom

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Episode 52: My Friend Kris