Issue link: https://read.dmtmag.com/i/37509
“Th e name Alcoholics Anonymous pretty much says it all,” quips Sarah Carpenter. A no-nonsense public relations pro who devotes her free time to elevating the issue of alcohol abuse, Carpenter isn’t shy about putting it frankly. Th ough passionate about the plethora of health issues facing the community through her work with groups such as the Breast Cancer Recovery Foundation and Madison Area Rehabilitation Centers, it was a long history of exposure to alcohol- ism that nudged her toward local organiza- tions battling substance abuse. It’s been the experience of serving on the boards of the Recovery Foundation, which helps raise awareness and funds for those who can’t afford treatment, and the Aaron J. Meyer Foundation, which funds a local recovery home for young men, that has opened Carpenter’s eyes to how the stig- mas surrounding alcoholism prevent many women from seeking treatment. “Unfortunately, we don’t have compas- sion for [alcoholism] like we do for breast cancer and other diseases,” Carpenter says. As she pointed out, even one of the most well-known support groups for the issue, Alcoholics Anonymous, is founded on the premise of remaining anonymous. “People, women especially, are re- ally afraid [to admit they have a problem and seek help] because their employers or friends might fi nd out. People gossip about them…they just don’t want everyone to know,” she adds. Shelly Dutch, a mainstay in the Madison community of counselors and advocates, agrees. “It’s the shame [that] keeps [women] in a perpetual state of abuse,” says Dutch, founder of the Recovery Foundation and owner of Connections Counseling, a sub- stance abuse and mental health outpatient clinic specializing in mentor-based ser- vices for addicts. Th e added layers of pressure many wom- en face to be the best in their careers and at home are magnifi ed when dealing with a problem like substance abuse. Th ere’s a fear of seeking help, of admitting you have a problem, as Dutch details. But then there’s the fear that even after, your life will never be the same. “You’re viewed differently than men,” Linda says fl atly of the stereotypes she’s confronted. “Men just have a ‘drinking problem.’ But if you’re a woman and you had a problem, all of the sudden you’re a bad mother in everyone’s eyes.” Th e diffi culty that surrounds both ini- tially reaching out for help, and life after treatment is one that Dutch understands intimately. A Madison native, she spent her early 20s hooked on cocaine and other drugs, hop- ping across the country in an attempt to fl ee the addiction and spare her parents the humiliation of having hometown acquain- tances learn about the problem. After entering an inpatient treatment facility, Dutch had the epiphany that might have saved her life. “I realized I was a sick person trying to get well, not a bad person trying to get good,” Dutch explains. It’s coming to this realization, she says, that’s at the heart of really understanding the battle against substance abuse. “When you have that fi rst drink and the euphoria hits…you’re like a gerbil in a wheel. You start and you can’t get off,” Linda says, describing how, every time she drank, her brain would send the same, fi x- ated signal to have more. Her account follows a pattern for disease evolution that’s just as predictable as with many other illnesses, complete with risk factors (depression and anxiety), symp- toms (cravings, loss of control and physical dependence), diagnosis (confi rmation that the problem is beyond a lack of willpower) and treatment (usually with counseling and group therapy). Th e National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism within the National In- stitutes of Health defi nes alcoholism as a chronic, progressive disease that can be fatal. Th e risk factors for developing alco- holism can be genetic and infl uenced by lifestyle. “I realized I was a sick person trying to get well, not a bad person Yet, getting recognition as a legitimate illness—just as legitimate and devastating as, say, cancer—is a struggle for substance abusers. Th e fact that there is an element of control over how it begins doesn’t help its case in the public eye. Th e line of thinking by many? You can’t control that a cell turns into cancer, but you can control having a beer in your hand. But as Linda’s story il- lustrates, nightly cocktails to help relieve stress can, for some, easily spiral out of control. July 2011 bravamagazine.com 57 trying to get good.”