There is a moving episode of the Armchair Expert podcast called
Day 7, where the host Dax Shepard opens up about a relapse after nearly 16 years of sobriety. His co-host and best friend Monica said something I think about a lot. She talks about texting a friend and saying "there are pills missing", and her friend tells her to delete the text before Dax sees it. But Monica decides not to delete anything. It is what she has seen, it is truth. He'd been hiding something from his friends and family. I'd been listening to Armchair Expert because it's fun interviews with a little information about recovery and addiction and mental health sprinkled in. I'd heard that the Day 7 episode was kind of the big one, but I didn't dive into it until one random day on a walk. I had to keep walking, and crying, and walking. It meant so much, and sadly felt so familiar.
I work in technical support. That is also a place where we speak our truth. We try not to accuse users of doing something wrong, because we our relationship to them is important. So we make it black and white. If you do this, the system does this. If you press enter a bunch of times in your word doc, the new page will always move when you add text above it. If you insert > page break, the new page will always start in the same place. There. Done. You're not a bad person. I am not here to say what's right and wrong. I am just here to tell you the truth.
I did this in my job for years without realizing that it is the best way to help people with all other things. Not just technology. You step back to a place of serenity, set your boundaries, separate the person from their actions, share your experience. I didn't realize it until I saw the sign on the al anon wall that this group is for us, we are not here to talk about what's in the heads of addicts, we are here to talk about ourselves. Find that truth. Sometimes it takes some work and looking for it, because when life is chaotic and unmanageable, truth gets lost.