Recovery Reading: I Grew Up in an Alcoholic Home and Learned Not to Trust Others, but a Ladder Brought Me Back

Here’s the eight-rung system that saved me from a lifetime of loneliness

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This topic may seem silly to most readers, but it was deadly serious for me. I grew up in an alcoholic home where trust and honesty were starkly missing. Developing a method of trusting others saved me from a lifetime of loneliness and lack of intimate relationships. Let me tell you how I got there.

Starting point: isolation

Trust is a process that takes time, exposure to other people and their traits, and gradual self-revelation. I grew up in an alcoholic family rife with emotional abuse. I was an introverted child with a sensitive nervous system. Secrecy, broken promises, inappropriate boundaries, and abandonment all contributed to my lack of trust. I learned I wasn’t supposed to tell others the truth about what was going on at home. Maintaining those secrets discouraged me from reaching out for help, thus further contributing to my trust issues. I was left isolated with only myself and my own private hell. I eventually developed suicidal tendencies and, later, an eating disorder.

The “trust pendulum”

I started recovery (Alateen) when I was about 18 or 19 years old. I also started working with a therapist. If I think of my total lack of trust and isolation as the far right, my “trust pendulum” then swung to the far left given these supports. I didn’t yet have the capacity to self-regulate and attend to the nuances involved in growing to trust another human being. My pendulum usually swung far to either side—either gushing too much information (and then feeling vulnerable and scared) or completely clamming up again and self-isolating (and then feeling alone and hopeless). I eventually learned that this back-and-forth method of developing trust and intimate relationships wasn’t working.

The pendulum stopped swinging when I got a ladder

Now, far into recovery and (basically) finished with therapy, I think of the trust process as a ladder. Here are the rungs I “climb,” with the option at any given rung to end the relationship.

Rung 1: Is the person a compulsive talker?

Compulsive talkers talk incessantly with almost no breaths or breaks in their monologue. They don’t leave room for me to jump into the conversation. I don’t come across them very often (only twice so far), but when I do, it’s an automatic deal-breaker. Not a compulsive talker? Check. On to the next rung.

Rung 2: Does the person talk about others?

My definition of gossip is talking about someone when they aren’t present. If the person talks about others, they’re going to talk about me. This trait may require a few interactions to discern. Doesn’t talk about others? Check. On to rung three.

Rung 3: Does the person respect my boundaries?

Do they listen fully when I speak or do they bait me with questions and then push me to change my mind? That’s invasive behavior, and I won’t tolerate it.

Rung 4: Does the person know how to perform reality checks, or are they willing to learn?

Reality checks are a major tool in my communications arsenal when building a new relationship. If the other person doesn’t know how to do that — or, worse, isn’t willing to learn how to do that — it’s unlikely we’ll be able to share any kind of meaningful relationship. I may not end the connection, but I’ll put it into a different category.

Rung 5: Does the person take responsibility for themselves?

Do they constantly and consistently blame others for their problems? On this rung I pay attention to the person’s use of pronouns when they speak. Do they use “I” language or “you” language? “I” language indicates ownership, whereas “you” language can represent anything from personal distance to actual attack.

Rung 6: Does the person only vent problems with no interest in changing what they can?

I’m happy to be a sounding board for their issues — in fact, I’m very good at it — but don’t bore me with an incessant stream of problems with no interest in taking responsibility for their part of them.

Rung 7: How does the person respond to the people around them?

I look for patterns before I make a judgement on this question. That’s the only way I can truly determine the person’s reaction patterns. I’ll give a person three or four chances. If they respond with scorching fury to every irritating situation that comes along, I go down the ladder.

Rung 8: Can the person throw the conversational ball back to me?

If the person talks only about themselves, that can be almost as bad as compulsive talking. If there’s no room in the conversation for me, I get bored very quickly. Sometimes, if I really like the person, I’ll speak with them directly about this matter and give them another chance.

Conclusion

What I’ve described here sounds like an interminable process, but it goes quickly in relatively little time. Much of it involves my gut feelings: Sometimes I get enough red flags early on that I don’t pursue the connection any further. Other times I can gauge several rungs in just one conversation, at least enough to decide whether or not I’ll continue climbing. I’ve encountered a few situations in which I’ve had to take the “long view”: Despite having several years of healthy interactions with another person, sometimes something is said that triggers an old, painful memory and I have to remind myself to look at the whole picture of the relationship, not focus on just a fragment of it.

The irony isn't lost on me: a person who once couldn't trust a soul now has a small circle of deeply trusted friends. The ladder made that possible.