There’s a story about a man who found a butterfly struggling to emerge from its cocoon. The opening was so small, and the butterfly was beating itself against the walls, exhausting itself trying to push through.

The man felt sorry for it. So he took scissors and carefully cut the cocoon open to help the butterfly get free.

The butterfly emerged easily. But its wings were shriveled and weak. It couldn’t fly. And within hours, it died.

What the man didn’t know was the struggle to push through that tiny opening is what forces fluid from the butterfly’s body into its wings. The struggle is what makes it strong enough to survive.

By “helping,” he’d actually prevented the very thing that would have saved it.

I think about that story constantly in this work.

Because recovery is the same. And most families don’t realize that recovery happens as we move through hard things. Most people help their loved ones in ways that aren’t actually helpful.

Not on purpose. Not with bad intentions. But the outcome is the same.

Let me tell you about a mom I worked with, let’s call her Lee.

Her son was 28, actively using, living in her basement. Every morning, she’d check if he was breathing. Every night, she’d lie awake wondering if tonight was the night she’d find him dead.

She paid his phone bill “so we can stay in touch.” She bought his groceries “so at least he eats something.” She gave him gas money “so he doesn’t run out of gas somewhere dangerous.” She paid his car insurance “so he doesn’t drive without it.”

She was terrified. And she was doing everything in her power to keep him safe.

Here’s what I asked her.

Who’s on your Board of Directors? Who are you actually working for, the addiction or the recovery?

She started to cry. Because she knew. Every single thing she was doing was making it easier for him to keep using.

The phone bill? He used that phone to contact his dealer.
The groceries? Meant he didn’t have to choose between food and drugs. He could have both.
The gas money? Went directly to drugs.
The car insurance? Let him keep driving to get drugs without consequences.

(IMPORTANT SIDENOTE: I am not saying to not give the above, when we work with someone one on one, we guide what things are helpful and what things are not on a case by case basis.)

She thought she was keeping him alive. She was actually subsidizing his addiction.

Think about it. If your loved one can use drugs AND have a place to live, AND have food, AND have their bills paid, AND have transportation, AND have a phone, AND have your emotional support absorbing their chaos… why would they stop?

From their brain’s perspective, a brain that’s hijacked by addiction, they’re managing just fine. Sure, you’re upset. But THEY don’t have to feel the full weight of their choices. You’re carrying it for them.

Most families don’t see this pattern because they’re operating from fear.

Fear that if you don’t help, something terrible will happen.
Fear that if you set a boundary, they’ll overdose.
Fear that if you stop being involved, you’ll lose them forever.

So you keep helping. And helping. And “helping.”

And the addiction keeps winning.

I learned this in my own recovery.

People helped me in ways that allowed me to keep drinking. They made excuses for me. They covered for me. They paid for things. They absorbed the consequences so I didn’t have to feel them.

And you know what? I kept drinking. Because I could.

So here’s what I want you to think about.

Take inventory everywhere you are spending resources. Money, time, energy, emotional bandwidth.

Ask yourself, Is this helping them get closer to recovery? Or is this helping the addiction continue?

This isn’t about cutting them off cold. It’s not about being cruel or abandoning them.

It’s about learning to become present to what YOU are doing. 

When you protect them from the mess, you protect them from recovery.

The hardest part?

You have to become stronger than your own fear. You have to be willing to let consequences happen. You have to trust that the struggle might be exactly what saves them.

Just like the butterfly.

In my next email, I’m going to teach you the skill that makes this possible. How to separate what’s yours to manage from what’s theirs. Because you can’t stop “helping” until you can untangle yourself from their chaos.

Talk soon,
Kate

P.S. If you’re realizing you’ve been subsidizing the problem and you don’t know how to stop without everything falling apart, that’s exactly what we help families navigate in our treatment program. You don’t have to figure this out alone. Visit tippingpointrecovery.com to learn more.