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Comedian Laura Clery gets candid about coparenting with an addict

Editor's Note: This story discusses addiction and its impact on families. If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction, the SAMHSA’s National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders. Call 1-800-662-HELP(4357) for assistance.

Coparenting after a breakup or divorce can be hard, especially if the relationship didn't end on good terms. But sometimes, it's not just the relationship ending that causes coparenting to be difficult. Sometimes it's something that directly impacts the wellbeing of the children you have together: substance abuse. Major cultural differences and parenting styles can be hard to overcome, but substance use can affect the mental and physical safety of the children you both love.

Comedian and actor Laura Clery has been open about her own previous struggle with addiction, and has remained sober for more than a decade. The YouTuber got married, welcomed two children, and has since gotten divorced since then, maintaining her sobriety the entire time. But her ex-husband, Stephen Hilton, has had very public relapses since their divorce and, in a recent joint podcast, they shared that one of his relapses contributed to the breakdown of their marriage, leaving Clery on the rollercoaster of coparenting with someone in active addiction.

At the filming of the joint podcast, Hilton, a film score composer, revealed he's been sober. Unfortunately, it was shortly after the filming that he relapsed again. Since clearing the air about their struggles with Hilton's addiction to narcotics, (including fentanyl), Clery has been very vulnerable with sharing what it has been like to coparent with someone in active addiction. Their young children, Alfie, seven, and Poppy, four, are accustomed to seeing their father regularly, and Clery has aimed to continue this normalcy as much as possible even through Hilton's active addiction stages.

In a recent video, she explains how she found out he was in active addiction again and the boundaries she enforced when the producer relapsed.

When speaking about their coparenting relationship, she says, "It's feeling good. It's feeling functional...and I just feel like wow, everything is good. You know, even in his life, he's gotten some music opportunities that are really exciting, and I feel like I'm getting some opportunities with my podcast and making progress on my book. It's just, life is feeling good and then I open up Instagram three days ago to a video of him talking about he's in active addiction, and he's using and he's documenting the whole thing" she adds. "And my heart is broken. And I feel so stupid, and I feel so angry because you were just picking up my kids from...our kids from school."

The best-selling author continues to express disbelief as she recounts all the time he's had parenting the children alone while simultaneously documenting his relapse on the Internet. Clery explicitly states that she still loves Hilton and her goal isn't to bash him, explaining that she views addiction "as a cunning, baffling, powerful and progressive disease. So I don't think he's evil or bad. I think he's sick right now."

Clery explains later, "I guess it just makes it a little trickier when you've got kids in the mix and it's really f***ing sad to me because again, he's such a good dad, especially when he's clean. He's so loving, he adores them and we have so much fun together and yeah, my heart just breaks for the kids." She starts tearing up thinking about boundaries she has to put in place to keep them safe. "Yeah, like over the weekend he was supposed to have them on Saturday. It's like no, you're not seeing the kids. You're on drugs, you're not seeing the kids and they ask for 'daddy, daddy, daddy' and it's like 'no we're not doing daddy's house this weekend, you know, he's busy.'"

In another video uploaded to YouTube, Clery explains that, since his relapse, she holds a firm boundary that he cannot be alone with the kids. She has to be present to ensure safety, which she admits is hard as she says it feels like solo parenting all the time while he's actively using. Thankfully, Hilton has restarted his sobriety journey though it's unclear if he's sticking to it—which was a topic of their most recent joint podcast together.

In the joint podcast, Hilton admits to planning to do "controlled using" where he has periods of sobriety and periods of active use saying, "I've got a feeling that I'm not going to get away with this for very much longer. I feel like I'm walking a tight rope, like my original plan was to stop for 30 days and start again. Cause my point was that I'm blowing my life up anyway. I live on my own, there's nothing to lose. My kids don't live with me, I don't have anything to lose."

Hilton admits to struggling with depression which leads to him feeling the desire to use drugs. While Clery continues to reinforce the boundary around visitation with the children, she remains supportive throughout the episode. At one point she offers up a program that brought him joy in the past: when he was telling his story to people in hospitals and prisons who were struggling with addiction. It's clear that the composer wants to do the right thing and Clery wants him to be better for himself and their children, but boundaries are still required until longevity in sobriety is achieved again.

Family

What to do when you're the child of an alcoholic

My dad was an addict, and growing up with him taught me a lot.

Photo with permission from writer Ashley Tieperman.

Ashley Tieperman and her father.


There was never just one moment in my family when we “found out" that my dad was an addict.

I think I always knew, but I never saw him actually drinking. Usually, he downed a fifth of vodka before he came home from work or hid tiny bottles in the garage and bathroom cabinets.


My name is Ashley, and I am the child of an addict. As a kid, I cried when our family dinner reservation shrunk from four to three after a man with glassy eyes stumbled through the door. I didn't guzzle the vodka, but I felt the heartbreak of missed birthdays. I feel like I should weigh 500 pounds from all the “I'm sorry" chocolate donuts. I had to grow up quicker, but it made me into the person I am today.

addiction, coping, 12 step programs, recovery

Me and my dad.

Photo with permission from writer Ashley Tieperman.

I spent many years shouting into journals about why this was happening to me. But this is the thing that no one will tell you about loving someone who has an addiction: it will force you to see the world through different eyes.

Here are some things I've learned:

1. When your family's yelling about burnt toast, they're probably also yelling about something else.

My family yelled about everything — and nothing — to avoid the messy stuff. We all handled my dad's addiction differently. My brother devoured sports. My mom took bubble baths. I slammed doors and slammed boyfriends for not understanding my family's secrets.

Regardless of the preferred coping mechanism, everyone feels pain differently.

2. Your "knight in shining armor" can't fix this.

Boyfriends became my great escape when I was young. But when I expected them to rescue me from the pain I grew up with, it never worked out. No matter how strapping they looked galloping in on those white horses, they couldn't save me or fix anything.

In the end, I realized that I had to find healing on my own before I could build a strong relationship.

3. “Don't tell anyone" is a normal phase.

When my dad punched holes in the wall, my mom covered them up with artwork. I wanted to rip the artwork down to expose all the holes, especially as a bratty teenager. But eventually I realized that it wasn't my choice. My parents had bills to pay and jobs to keep. I've learned it's common to cover up for dysfunction in your family, especially when it feels like the world expects perfection.

4. Friends probably won't get it, but you'll need them anyway.

Bulldozed by broken promises, I remember collapsing on a friend's couch from the crippling pain of unmet expectations. I hyperventilated. Things felt uncontrollable and hopeless. My friend rubbed my back and just listened.

These are the kinds of friends I will keep forever, the ones who crawled down into the dark places with me and didn't make me get back up until I was ready.

5. You can't fix addiction, but you can help.

When I was a teenager, I called a family meeting. I started by playing a Switchfoot song: “This is your life. Are you who you want to be?"

Let's skip to the punchline: It didn't work.

It wasn't just me. Nothing anyone did worked. My dad had to lose a lot — mostly himself — before he hit that place they call “rock bottom." And, in all honesty, I hate that label because “rock bottom" isn't just a one-and-done kind of place.

What can you do while you wait for someone to actually want to get help? Sometimes, you just wait. And you hope. And you pray. And you love. And you mostly just wait.

6. Recovery is awkward.

When a counselor gave me scripted lines to follow if my dad relapsed, I wanted to shred those “1-2-3 easy steps" into a million pieces.

For me, there was nothing easy about my dad's recovery. My whole family had to learn steps to a new dance when my dad went into recovery. The healing dance felt like shuffling and awkwardly stepping on toes. It was uncomfortable; new words, like trust and respect, take time to sink in. And that awkwardness is also OK.

7. I still can't talk about addiction in the past tense.

Nothing about an addict's life happens linearly. I learned that early on. My dad cycled through 12-step programs again and again, to the point where I just wanted to hurl whenever anyone tried to talk about it. And then we finally reached a point where it felt like recovery stuck.

But even now, I'll never say, “My dad used to deal with addiction." My whole family continues to wrestle with the highs and lows of life with an addict every single day.

8. Happy hours and wedding receptions aren't easy to attend.

My family will also probably never clink glasses of red wine or stock the fridge full of beer. I'm convinced happy hours and wedding receptions will get easier, but they might not. People get offended when my dad orders a Diet Coke instead of their fine whisky.

Plus, there's the paranoia factor. Surrounded by flowing liquor, I hate watching my dad crawl out of his skin, tempted to look “normal" and tackle small talk with people we barely know. I've learned that this fear will probably last for a while, and it's because I care.

9. If you close your eyes, the world doesn't just “get prettier."

With constant fear of the unknown, sometimes our world is not a pretty place. I remember watching the breaking news on 9/11 and feeling the terror of the planes crashing into the Twin Towers as if I was there.

My dad numbed the anxiety of these dark days with vodka, but this didn't paint a prettier world for him when he woke up the next day. I've dealt with the fear of the unknown with the help of boys, booze, and bad dancing on pool tables. Life hurts for everyone, and I think we all have to decide how we're going to handle the darkness.

10. Rip off the sign on your back that reads: “KICK ME. MY LIFE SUCKS."

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see only my broken journey. In some twisted way, I'm comforted by the dysfunction because it's kept me company for so long. It's easy to let the shadow of my family's past follow me around and choose to drown in the darkness.

But every day, I'm learning to turn on the light. I have to write the next chapter in my recovery story, but I can't climb that mountain with all this crap weighing me down.

11. It's OK to forgive, too.

Some people have given me sucky advice about how I should write an anthem on daddy bashing, or how to hit the delete button on the things that shaped my story.

Instead, my dad and I are both learning to celebrate the little things, like the day that he could change my flat tire. On that day, I didn't have to wonder if he was too drunk to come help me.

I can't forget all the dark nights of my childhood.

But I've learned that for my own well-being, I can't harbor bitterness until I explode.

Instead, I can love my dad, day by day, and learn to trust in the New Dad — the one with clearer eyes and a full heart. The one who rescues me when I call.


This article was written by Ashley Tieperman and originally appeared on 04.27.16

A man having some serious confusion brought on by brain rot.

Do you ever feel like your brain has turned to hamburger? You have difficulty concentrating, mental fogginess and zero attention span. That is a condition known as “brain rot.” Although it isn’t a medical term, plenty of research shows that overstimulation from spending too much time scrolling through social media can create a mushy mental state.

It makes complete sense that spending too much time scrolling through TikTok should break your brain because it evolved to hunt and gather on the African Savannah, not to endlessly scroll through Instagram reels.

When your brain feels like it has disintegrated into yogurt and you can’t muster up a cogent thought, you’re probably having trouble with executive functioning, which consists of your working memory, mental elasticity and self-control. Studies have shown that people who are addicted to social media have trouble with trouble sleeping as well.


Difficulty sleeping can exacerbate mental fogginess, making the brain fog even worse.

How do you know if you’re addicted to social media? If you get seriously agitated when you can’t scroll on your favorite apps or if it’s getting in the way of other hobbies, activities, or responsibilities.

It may seem like scrolling through your phone is a harmless activity, but it’s so enjoyable because it causes some strong neurochemical reactions in your brain.

Scrolling through social media triggers the release of dopamine, a neurochemical that creates feelings of satisfaction and pleasure. The more you scroll, the more you crave it. Your brain links scrolling with gratification, even if you know it has adverse effects. Over time, this can lead to a behavioral addiction.

When people spend too much time on their phones, it can rewire their reward centers so that getting positive mental dopamine rewards from rewarding things such as working on a hobby or hanging out with people in real life becomes less pleasurable than scrolling, posting and getting likes.

Brain scans of people who are addicted to social media resemble those of drug addicts.

When all of this information is taken together, it’s clear that the little phone in our pocket can tremendously impact our ability to think, feel and interact with the real world. So what can we do?

If you feel like your brain has become as helpful as an old catcher’s mitt, it’s probably time to put your phone down and touch grass, work on a non-digital hobby, or have coffee with a friend.

According to the American Psychological Association, enjoying nature is one of the best ways to overcome a sluggish mind. “There is mounting evidence, from dozens and dozens of researchers, that nature has benefits for both physical and psychological human well­being,” says Lisa Nisbet, PhD, a psychologist at Trent University in Ontario, Canada, who studies the benefits of people connecting with nature. “You can boost your mood just by walking in nature, even in urban nature. And the sense of connection you have with the natural world seems to contribute to happiness even when you’re not physically immersed in nature.”

Health

The simple 'Dorito theory' is a thoughtful way to break our addictive, unfulfilling habits

"Things that aren't actually satisfying are those that are maximally addictive."

via Celeste Aria, used with permission and Hugo Martins/Flickr

Celeste Aria explains her "Dorito theory"

Philosopher Eric Hoffer once said, “You can’t get enough of what you truly don’t need to make you happy.” His point is that we can have enough of the things that truly satisfy us, such as a healthy relationship, necessary material possessions, or nutritious food.

However, the things that can’t satisfy us, such as junk food, toxic relationships, or status symbols, will always leave us feeling hollow, no matter how much we indulge.

This idea has popped back into public consciousness, although with a slight twist by TikTokker Celeste Aria, who refers to her version of the idea as the “Dorito theory.” “One thing I can’t stop thinking about is called the Dorito theory,” she said in a post with over 1 million views. “I learned about this, and now I see everything a little bit differently.”


Aria is a vintage fashion influencer and musician.

“When you eat a Dorito and finish your bite, you’re not fully satisfied,” Aria continues. “It’s not the same as eating a steak or eating a really satiating food that’s high in protein where after your bite, you really feel sort of that fullness and that warmth of satisfaction.”

Have you heard of Dorito Theory? 

@celeste.aria_

Have you heard of Dorito Theory? What types of things and experiences falls under it for you? #doritotheory #dopamine #addictivebehaviour #howtostoprotting #rottingtiktok #impulsivebehaviour #howtousetiktokless #howtoeathealthy #howtomotivateyourself #howtoimprove #thoughtexperiment #serotonin #mentalhealth #neuroscience #neurodivergent #adhd

“Eating potato chips is addictive because the peak of experience is kind of when you’re tasting it, and not after,” she continued. Put simply: "Experiences that aren't truly satisfying are maximally addictive."

The theory can even be applied to the platform where she went viral. TikTok may give us slight hits of joy (dopamine) as we scroll, but they can be few and far between. Eventually, when we put our phones down, the entire experience is little more than only a diversion. At worst, a waste of time and emotional energy.

The video received a lot of thoughtful responses on TikTok.

"In Gabor Maté's book ‘In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts, ’ he says 'You’ll never get enough of something that almost works,'" C. Badger wrote. "There’s a line in 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' that says something along the lines of 'I love a cigarette it leaves one so unsatisfied," and I think of it daily," Louis said, referring to Oscar Wilde's masterpiece.

"This is a unique TikTok video that is more like a steak than a Dorito. I feel I learned something and now I’m actually satisfied and don’t need to keep scrolling," Stevesapao added.

Dr. Jamie Sorenson says that the Dorito theory makes much sense from a psychiatric perspective. “Dorito theory is consistent with other addiction and behavioral theories,” she tells Fast Company. “The more immediate [the reward], the more likely we are to repeat that behavior, whether it’s eating Doritos, using a drug of choice, or scrolling on social media.”

The psychological underpinnings that drive people to overeat, engage in toxic relationships, or fall into the darkness of addiction are more complex than any idea that can be explained in a 90-second TikTok video. However, Dorito theory is a good test for whether we should indulge in certain vices, possessions, or people.

If you keep repeating a specific behavior repeatedly and it always leaves you feeling hollow, why not substitute it for something that is ultimately satisfying instead? Obviously, that’s easier said than done when you have a big bag of chips in your lap.