A recent conversation with my 16-year-old daughter, Laura, reminded me of the utility of music in the treatment of clients with the co-occurring disorders of substance abuse and mental health issues. Music is timeless, appeals to all age groups, and its relevance and universality have been studied by sociologists and pop culture gurus. Music can be a key tool of engagement, and the more tools I have for accomplishing development of rapport, the more effective and relevant I can be as a counselor. I’ve observed that many of my clients have a visceral reaction to music and often pinpoint the happy and traumatic times of their lives through the music popular at the time.

So, one afternoon, Laura and I were having lunch at a restaurant whose owner encourages patrons to color on the paper tablecloths. My daughter casually wrote down the names of three bands that were popular in the 1970s — in separate colors, of course — with no prompting from me. Okay, she did need help spelling Led Zeppelin, but had no problems with The Doors and The Beatles. I asked her what music from each of those seminal bands came to mind. She proceeded to name some classics, including Riders on the Storm and Yellow Submarine.

Her reminiscence prompted a realization that I am hopelessly stuck in the 1970s and 1980s musically. It’s not surprising that when I did an independent study proposing five, one-hour psycho-educational treatment sessions during my graduate program, the natural choice was a song from one of my favorite 1970s artists. To illustrate the benefits of viewing life as a journey, I proposed introspection as being beneficial to determine where one is headed, and what they’ve learned on that journey. This theme of being on a journey, a path to health and wholeness, is embodied in the following words in a 1970 song, On the Road to Find Out, written by the artist then known as Cat Stevens:

“Well, I left my happy home to see what I could find out. I left my folk and friends with the aim to clear my mind out. Well, I hit the rowdy road and many kinds I met there. Many stories told me how the way to get there. So on and on I go. The seconds tick the time out. There is so much left to know and I’m the road to find out …Then I found myself alone, hoping someone would miss me, thinking about my home and the last woman to kiss me. But sometimes you have to moan when nothing seems to suit her but, nevertheless, you know you’re locked towards the future…Then I found my head one day when I wasn’t even trying. And here I have to say, ‘cause there ain’t no use in lying …Yes, the answer lies within, so why not take a look now?”

Clients tend to key in on the loss and fear Stevens sings about, thereby providing a natural segue to a discussion regarding the impact of grief and loss on one’s recovery efforts. There are several other examples where music can be used in recovery groups. I recall the day one particular client was discharged from outpatient treatment to serve time for offenses committed while under the influence. On that last morning of treatment he candidly confided that he felt I knew he was getting drunk and high every night during treatment when I played The Great Pretender by The Platters:

“Oh, oh yes, I’m the great pretender. Pretending that I’m doing well.”

I assured him that, while I was concerned that he frequently presented as angry and agitated, I did not know he was using. As a matter of fact, the client never blew numbers on the Breathalyzer and, because of his violation status, no urine samples were taken by his probation officer. He perceived himself as the “Great Pretender”, portraying himself as clean and sober when, in reality, he was using daily.

Have a Coke™ and a trial
During an early treatment group, a client was refreshingly honest in self-disclosing his first experience with a substance he mistook for another, more familiar drug. Sober for a number of years, the client related a story of agreeing to drive a friend to a party. Once outside the apartment, the friend invited the client to “come upstairs for a coke.” The client soon found himself in a circle of men and women passing around a pipe. Against his better judgment, he took a hit from the pipe and said, “WOW, that’s the best marijuana I’ve ever had. What kind is it?” The man next to him told him, “That’s not pot, it’s crack.” In a shocking testament to the stranglehold crack had on him, he reported he buying and selling crack on the streets of New London, Conn., resulting in an arrest for possession with intent to sell a mere three weeks after his first use. That type of anecdotal reality from a client has an impact far greater than that to be derived from a video on the topic. When recounting this story recently, clients responded to my suggestion that we often don’t listen to our own intuition and later regret our choice. The song that I used to illustrate my point was Three Dog Night’s song, Momma Told me not to Come.

What’s old is new
I was pleasantly surprised by a male client’s choice, during a recent group discussion on the role of music in one’s life and recovery efforts. He brought in a Marilyn Manson CD that included the song, Sweet Dreams. Again, for those stuck in the 1980s, you will recognize the lyrics from the original recording by Annie Lennox of the Eurythmics:

“Sweet dreams are made of this. Who am I do disagree…Some of them want to use you, some of them want to be used by you. Some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused.”

He envisioned that song as a revelation of the types of persons he encounters in his daily life — the opportunist, the manipulator, and the abuser.

Changing the words
Lyrics can inspire, sadden and lead to euphoria. For two years after getting separated and then divorced, I cried whenever I heard on the radio Annie Lennox’s song, Walking on Broken Glass. That was exactly how it felt – painful, cutting and desperate. I was experiencing an emotional roller coaster caused by letting go of a 10-year marriage and losing daily face-to-face interaction with my children. Around the same time, a song by Beck concerned me. My now 20 year-old son, Matthew, and his sister were very impressionable and I became concerned that the lyrics from Loser would negatively impact them:“Oh, oh head to toe, I’m a loser baby so why don’t you kill me.”

Horrified by the hopelessness expressed, yet, stunned by how I could relate to his raw expression of wanting another to end his life, I decided to change the lyrics: “Oh, oh head to toe, I’m a winner baby so why don’t you kiss me.” After all, hadn’t I encouraged my children to disavow the dominant Greaney gene of negativity by encouraging them that negativity required creativity to combat and overcome?

So, if you are searching for a timely group, why not ask clients to bring in a song to share and describe what meaning it holds for them. And, while you are in the musical mindset, indulge me as I tick off some of the more poignant songs spanning my lifetime. Cats in the Cradle, by Harry Chapin, speaks to me of the emotionally unavailable, workaholic father. Whereas, Father and Son, by Cat Stevens, fires up the frustration of not being heard or respected for the opinions I hold, and the individual I am.

Billy Joel’s River of Dreams strikes me as his most spiritual effort and calls to mind the resilience one can exhibit to overcome trauma. I Hope You Dance, by Lee Ann Womack, and Mary J. Blige’s No More Drama, nail the intention to live life to the fullest and not engage in old, unhealthy behaviors that only serve to derail our full potential and ultimate destiny.
Music — nostalgic, uplifting, and memorable — forms the soundtrack of my life. I eagerly await the music not yet heard, and the lyrics yet to inspire! What music resonates within you?

Thomas M. Greaney, M.Ed., LADC, is a substance abuse counselor working for the State of Connecticut’s Southeastern Mental Health Authority in Norwich. Tom has worked with young adults, and those requiring intensive clinical case management. He lectures on creative approaches to the counseling process and can be reached by calling 860-912-2944 or at This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it

This article is published in Counselor,The Magazine for Addiction Professionals, February 2006, v.7, n.1, pp.34-35.

Comments

Add New Search RSS

Write comment
Name:
Email:	do not notifynotify
Title:
	Please input the anti-spam code that you can read in the image.

Powered by !JoomlaComment 3.26

3.26 Copyright (C) 2008 Compojoom.com / Copyright (C) 2007 Alain Georgette / Copyright (C) 2006 Frantisek Hliva. All rights reserved."

---