Dealing With Addiction

"It is hard to understand addiction unless you have experienced it."
Ken Hensley

It begins so innocently. A couple beers, an experimental snort of coke, a binge at the banquet, a pain pill, a seven come eleven at the craps table, a little too much money spent on shopping…what harm can there be? We needed some comfort and found it in a little excess for a night. Anything to ease the pain, stop the voices, calm the nerves, stave off the feelings and numb us down for a few hours.

And it worked! A new friend had been found, one who understood that which bothered us; one who made no demands and simply sought to give relief where none had been previously. The friendship was a tentative one at first. We visited infrequently, always bringing a little gift, a smile, a warm feeling of comradeship, but never overstaying our welcome. Each time we were greeted warmly and made to feel wonderful. The laughter was joyful; the bond grew and the strength of one fed the strength of another, and it was a wondrous coalition with unlimited possibilities.

If a little is good then a lot must be better, right? Who in their right mind would want to surrender the warm feelings of such a friendship? We found freedom being with our new friend. We found courage and fulfillment, and the more we partook in the friendship the more we derived from it.

Oh sure, there were occasional glimpses of a dark side, but that’s all they were, just glimpses. Our new friend would never harm us. Friends do not harm friends, and with that reassurance we continued to strengthen the bond. One weekly visit became one nightly visit, and then there were the stay-overs and we binged on this new partnership.

Some of our old friends complained. We were spending too much time with our new pal and forgetting those who came before, and we suspected jealousy played a huge part in this, and if the old friends could just experience the elation that we experience in this new friend, they would surely understand.

But they wanted none of that, and the jealousies grew and then resentment followed, and after awhile we found that life was just easier to live if the old was tossed out and the new embraced. So we cut ties with those who would jeopardize our new union, and we guarded this new lifestyle with gusto, always vigilant against threats, imagined and real.

Those occasional glimpses of a dark side slowly increased. Perhaps our new friend did not have our best interests at heart after all. Perhaps there was an ulterior motive that we were not aware of. Perhaps our best friend meant….heaven forbid….to harm us.

Obsession and dependence became the watchwords as this strange partnership grew. You can’t make it without me you bitch. Don’t even try to leave me you bastard. I own your heart, mind and soul and always will. Come on over here baby and I’ll make you feel so good. Come on over here and wrap your hands around my bottle. Sink your teeth into ten thousand more calories and place another bet as if your life depended on it because you see, it does.

From want to need it goes, and the need hurts bad, and when the supplier is absent the sweats begin, followed by the chills, and a feeling of emptiness that far surpasses any felt before overtakes us, and then we come to realize that our new best friend, the new kid in town, has never had our welfare at heart and has always sought one thing….complete control over its hapless victims.

Can’t make it through the night; gotta have it or die. Feed me…feed me….feed me….but one is too many and a thousand not enough, and the obsession is overwhelming and tears flow and bodies weaken and all else, everything you once held dear, falls by the wayside, swallowed up by the need.

And your old friends and loved ones look on sadly, and they shake their heads, and they whisper behind your back and hope their prayers will be answered, that somehow, some way, a miracle will happen and the man or woman they once knew makes their way back to reality.

And so it comes down, eventually, to those two ends of the choice spectrum. Either get rid of the best friend, the lover, the supplier of life, or die in his arms. Institutions or death await if you make the wrong choice; a chance at redemption and happiness if you choose wisely.

But how does one give up the love of their life? How does one give up security, protection and the illusion of normalcy? The fear is oppressive as you consider this option, and experimentally you give it a try, a day here, a week there, but always you come running back to your lover, knowing you can never leave him and asking for forgiveness from the one who would kill you in the blink of an eye.

So you try and you fail; try and fail; the madness continues and the spirit is weak, and for many “flight or die” is not an option at all but a sad commentary on futility….and yes, they do die, and their former friends and family weep, and another statistic is added to the ledger, and your best friend goes in search of a new ally.

Still some make it. Some walk away, awash in shame and remorse and fear and self-loathing, but walk away they do. And they reach out a hand for help and that hand is grasped by others who have fought the same battles, and a stronger bond is formed, and life, oh sweet life, is returned.

"No one is immune from addiction; it afflicts people of all ages, races, classes, and professions."
Patrick J. Kennedy

Daily, around the world, new friendships are formed…some healthy…some deadly. What harm can there be? We all need an escape, right? We all need a respite from the madness in this world, and we all need to feel special and loved.

So it was for me and so it will be for millions today, and tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that. Some, like me, will make it….and some will die.

And so it goes!

2013 William D. Holland (aka billybuc)

“Helping writers to spread their wings and fly.”