I just watched two episodes of a television show called Intervention, and if I was not sitting in front of this computer right now I would be watching the program that comes on after intervention, called Obsessed, about people with obsessive-compulsive and anxiety disorders.

I am trying to figure out how I feel about these programs and why I am drawn to them. Is A&E, the network that produces these shows, exploiting the poor souls who suffer from these mental illnesses? Is this the latest fad in reality TV? Am I just a vapid voyeur, using this program to prop my ego? “At least I wasn’t that bad.” Or do I watch to get a dose of “But for the grace of God”?

I think I like these programs because they dispel the myth that we addicts/alcoholics/mentally ill are the spawn of equally addicted/alcoholic/mentally ill parents who have matted hair, greasy clothes and live in dilapidated tenements.

The producers of these shows have done a brilliant job of juxtaposing the current, horrendous lives of the addicts/alcoholics/mentally ill with their roots – homes with Christmas trees, family camping trips, Little League baseball and home-cooked meals.

Mental illness does not exist in a vacuum. It exists in families. Intervention allows those families to exhale. Every family makes mistakes. Good intentions often are not enough. And one family member’s illness can beget another’s.

For some families on the program, knowledge of the illness brings empathy and forgiveness. For others it is easier to accept stigma as truth than to try to understand why a loved one can’t do something that seems so impossibly easy, like getting up and going to work, or quitting after two beers. What you call “choice,” we addicts call “compulsion.”

There are some happy endings on Intervention. Some get clean and sober, their depression lifts and their thoughts stop racing. But just like any progressive illness, some do not make it.

Perhaps the most valuable lesson for family members is that we do not drink and drug at you, we drink and drug despite you – and your love, worry and prayers. We are painfully aware of your pain. The self-loathing that evolves from endlessly tormenting you drives us into the deepest depression imaginable. Standing in your shoes is excruciating.

Knowing, though, that through Intervention you can stand in mine gives me hope that you will understand. I am grateful for this opportunity – and grateful that the program is only an hour long.