Claudia came to Families Anonymous with a broken heart. A family member’s addiction had filled her days with pain, shame, guilt, and anger. Years later, she regained her composure and now shares her story so that other families know they can also ask for help.

Their story intersects with those of Rosario Lozada and Manuel Ponce. All three arrived at the same place, driven by the addiction of someone close to them. Over time, what they received began to flow in the opposite direction: today they accompany, guide, and lend a hand to those who come after them.

A chain reaction is formed. One person helps another; the one who manages to get back on their feet can later become a source of support for someone who is still trying to understand what happened within their family.

Addiction also affects the family

Claudia did not use drugs. Nor did she come seeking to recover from an addiction of her own.

“I was full of ignorance, but above all, heartbroken and in enormous pain for not knowing what to do,” she recalled.

There was shame, pain, anger, and guilt. Claudia described that period as a “Russian roulette of emotions.” Her life began to revolve around what the person using substances did or didn’t do.

In Families Anonymous, she began to see the problem from a different perspective. One of the slogans she found in the program summarized a boundary that until then she hadn’t been clear about: “You don’t cause it, you don’t control it, and you don’t cure it.”

Rosario Lozada knows that feeling from a different perspective. She currently presides over Families Anonymous in Mexico and receives people who arrive wondering how they can save their child, partner, sibling, or some other loved one.

Families Anonymous has been present in Mexico for 40 years and functions as a self-help program for family members and friends of people with problems related to alcohol, drugs, or certain behaviors. It offers in-person meetings and, since the pandemic, also remote sessions.

Those who walk through the door are usually worried about someone else. Rosario explained that, as the process unfolds, many families discover that they, too, need to reclaim parts of their own lives.

“We came here, in a way, because of a family member’s addiction problems, but we see in this environment that we are the ones most affected,” he said.

The desperation to help can change the dynamics of a family.

Money is handed out, problems are solved, situations are covered up, or every move is controlled. The decisions stem from the intention to protect, although some may end up facilitating the continuation of certain behaviors.

For Rosario Lozada, one of the lessons is to distinguish between accompanying and taking responsibility for what corresponds to the other person.

“It’s about setting limits, about learning that we can provide more support, as long as we become more familiar with the program,” he added.

Claudia had to go through that process.

According to her account, her recovery no longer depended on her family member changing. The focus then shifted to her, her reactions, and regaining the peace of mind she had lost.

Among the tools she found were meetings, literature, a mentor, and the 12-step program. One of her reference books is “Today, a Better Path,” comprised of 365 readings, one for each day of the year.

Of all the slogans she encountered during that process, one ended up particularly resonating with her:

“Let go of the reins and give them to God.”

The change that Claudia describes did not happen around the person who brought her to the group, but within her own life.

“Today I can say that my life is slowly recovering, and today I have peace. I have peace in my heart. My heart is slowly being rebuilt.”

Manuel Ponce also didn’t come to Familias Anónimas thinking he needed help.

His partner decided to address her addiction, and he supported her through the process. One day after she entered the treatment center, Manuel attended a session for family members.

“For me it was a terrible blow. I had to spend several days crying, furious, asking myself: ‘Why me? Why my partner? Why…?’”

She also began to identify her own behaviors that, from her experience within the program, she related to codependency.

“More than a struggle, it has been a journey to learn and to be able to live life as it should be,” Manuel said.

Over time, he understood that wanting to help doesn’t necessarily mean knowing how to do it.

“We want to help, but instead we get in the way of our loved one’s recovery,” he explained.

Therefore, in addition to the support of others who have had similar experiences, Manuel recommends seeking therapy when the situation warrants it. Self-help groups are not a substitute for professional help.

The difference between accompanying, controlling, and rescuing thus became one of the lessons that run through the three testimonies.

From receiving help to lending a hand

Manuel’s story could have remained in those first days of crying and questions.

After receiving help, she began participating in the promotion of Families Anonymous and the distribution of its literature. Today, she provides materials to people seeking to learn about the program and understand what they can do in a similar situation.

“My role here is to help a lot in the dissemination and sale of literature, which is very, very important so that people get to know it and have the tools,” he explained.

His experience allows us to observe the other end of the chain.

First, he needed someone to explain what was happening. Then he learned to live with a reality he didn’t understand. Now he’s the one who welcomes others and shares the tools he found when he had to ask for help.

Claudia traveled a similar route.

She arrived with shame and guilt. Today she uses her own testimony to speak to those who are still going through that experience.

“I invite you to let go of the shame, let go of the guilt, and seek recovery. Not for my family member anymore: recovery for myself, for my peace and my health.”

He doesn’t speak from outside the problem. He speaks from the perspective of someone who once came seeking answers.

Rosario also remains involved in that network. As president of Families Anonymous in Mexico, she participates in a program supported by people who understand the consequences that addiction can have on those who use drugs.

The help received does not necessarily end with the person who receives it.

A network that continues to add links

This support will have another meeting point on October 23, 24 and 25, when members of Familias Anónimas celebrate their twenty-second convention in Boca del Río, Veracruz.

The meeting will bring together members of the groups and others interested in learning about the tools used by the program. The convention is part of the activities through which its members share experiences and continue working on the 12 steps.

For Claudia, Manuel, and Rosario, however, support also occurs outside of a convention.

He is in a meeting, on a call, in a book handed to someone who has just arrived, or listening to a person who still doesn’t know what to do.

Manuel sums it up in three words:

Claudia arrived heartbroken, and today she speaks of peace. Manuel arrived wondering why he was going through what he was experiencing, and now he provides tools to other families. Rosario continues to welcome those seeking to learn how to offer support without losing themselves along the way.

Thus, an experience that began around an addiction takes another direction: the one who found a hand when he needed it can later become the hand that someone else was looking for.