Intervention

Have you watched the show on A&E called Intervention? It isn't the staged insanity of today's reality TV shows. Each episode tells the story of a person with an addiction of some sort, from the addict's point of view, their family's point of view, and with footage of the addict's behavior. I shouldn't watch it in its late-night timeslot.

The addicts think they are participating in a documentary about addiction. But the addict's family has arranged for an intervention from, well, an Interventionist. During the intervention at the end of the show, the addict's loved ones tell the addict how much the addict's behavior has hurt them, but how much they love them and want them to get healthy. The addict is offered entrance into a treatment program, usually with a plane ticket leaving the next day. So far, I haven't seen an episode where the addict refuses the offer, but I figure that happens occasionally.

As the episode ends, statements flash on the screen telling updates about the addict's recovery progress. Let's just say, I've had to get over wanting consistently happy endings.

Watching the show is making me ponder all sorts of unanswerable questions, like why do children have to go along for the ride as their mother drinks mouthwash as fast as she can, throws up in front of them, sprawls out in the yard, and gives them none of the care they need?

I know that the child can get counseling, but nothing really undoes what's been done to him. Statistically, he grows up, has a family of his own, and when things get stressful, he stops for cocaine on the way home from work. As an adult, he can't sufficiently explain to his wife what happened to him during childhood and how it effects him now. The pain in his past can be enough to ruin their marriage and his relationship with his kids. And so the list grows with more people who must live with the consequences of choices made generations ago.

I want everyone to turn out okay. But sometimes they don't. In fact, it seems like they usually don't. And that bothers me.

It bothers me that when you grow up and meet me, you don't believe me when I tell you that you're valuable and deserve good things.