The Gratitude Project: Day 17: Strength
August 6th 2008 01:02
Addicts are endless sources of entertainment. Think Trainspotting and Requim for a Dream . It's an odd mix of voyeurism and in my view, a puritanical anti-drug zeal. Patheticness, degradation, and squalor are emphasized. Don't get me wrong, addiction is unglamorous in the extreme. The stories I've heard as a counselor; and lives I have witnessed….unbelievable. There can be sadness and loss, loathing and remorse, much less the unpleasant physical consequences of using. And that's just the personal shit; worse is the havoc wreaked on friends and loved ones. Then there are the “others” The most dangerous of all addicts……these folks could be described as creative, bright, fun loving, and bigger than life…..these were the ones I personally knew.
By The Book’s definition, addiction is based in not only some chemical imbalance but also in some sort of undiagnosed (or diagnosed) mental illness… predominately depression or anxiety. In my practice and in my life, I see fear as the cornerstone of addiction or maybe they desire to muffle the truth. Many folks are fearful or feel worthless about who they are and about their abilities and how much better it feels to look elsewhere…in the bottom of a glass, a pill bottle, at a blackjack table, or during soulless sex, instead of sitting in the feeling of having to really own their shit and moving on. I guess most of us are reluctant to shine a light on the dark recesses of who we really are.
On my mother’s side of the family, addiction is a family inclination. We are a family of fallen angels….complex and Shakespearan in nature….restless brooding and unsettled spirits by our true natures while acting as court jesters and audience pleasers to accommodate the comfort of others. Many of my relatives would (or still do) something in excess…chain-smoked, drank, worked, partied, shopped, whatever. Damn they are the most competitive family I know. “Whatever you can do I can do better” was their mantra. In addition they did everything at full speed… As I have learned through the years, it wasn’t all negative though. These folks lived their lives with the “have fun…live life…balls out…” mentality. No day is wasted. But at what cost?
Conversely I also inherited genetic matter from reliable farm stock. These were “Salt of the earth” people. They worked hard and prayed hard. These folks were serious about everything. “No having dessert until you ate all of your dinner”. Don’t waste anything….”those poor starving people in Biafra”. These people were hard and angry. They used hard words and lived hard lives. They felt most comfortable when believing that they could also control nature and God. These folks had a knack of being black linings on silver clouds. Why be happy with a grade of a 99 when you could earn a 100? These folks thrived in their own personal living pressure cooker of perfection and suffocation. A single negative incident was a point of a larger whole, distant negative landscape in a viewfinder.
Thankfully I hit the parent lottery and my parents knew the strengths and weakness of the genetic makeup in each family and parented accordingly. My parents never demanded that we be perfect. The tendency to fail was accepted as part of the human condition. They encouraged learning without betraying feeling; to protect without stifling; to guide without coercing; and to encourage independence. My upbringing was full of contradiction and enigmas. There was not simple equation, no single map. My parents’ contend that the world is designed to grind people down and make them feel unspecial. They believed that from the moment we enter this world, someone is evaluating our behavior and "grading" it on some level; often comparing it against others. We learn it early. We're not enough. Someone is always better at it--whatever "it" is. And we carry this message with us, and tell ourselves it even when no one else is around to tell us. And then we even start telling it to (or thinking it about) other people, too. It's a kind of cyclic trap--one person is made to feel less special, and then starts replicating that pattern on someone else. My parents did a great job of promoting our uniqueness. My parents told us that we were talented, smart, strong, and independent. We were shining lights in this world of dullish mediocrity. I have thanked my parents many times for this.
That being said, however, there have been several occasions when my “being” just didn’t feel right. These are the days when the addict in me surfaces. My psyche sometimes feels like Pisa leaning to the right or left and I seem to be perpetually trying to center myself. There are days when I can not find my center at all. I have to keep wriggling to get comfortable psychic poses. It's a strange and disquieting thing, the addictive drift. Often, I just feel like a jumbled mass of odds and ends like a utility drawer. Or dribs and drabs of unfinished business, like a page full of uncrossed T's.
My cousin explains it this way: If he is in an "okay" state, he needs to upgrade it with something. Formerly, it was alcohol or whatever; these days, he has nothing except maybe ice cream. And even though ice cream is a powerful force for good, it's not quite the same as a mind-altering substance. He wants ice cold vodka and pills. My cousin has actually said : “Why just feel "okay" when you can feel GREAT just by taking a pill or a drink? Why just feel GREAT at a party or some such social setting, when you can feel GREAT any old time? Why stay in a "normal" state when you can have more joy, more peace, more calm, more energy, more confidence? More. More. More.” That kind of thinking scares that hell out of me because on a spiritual level I “get it.”
To cope with it all, in the grand tradition of Mom’s side of the family, I self medicate. Unlike several of them who are no longer with us because of it. I mix it up: a little sugar, working out, a lot of long hot showers, some escapist reading, time with friends, movie watching, and my favorite…traveling. My strategy is simple. I concentrate on a lot on work and on my relationships with family and friends and creative endeavors because the sense of pride and accomplishment are pretty damn good, and a not-so-bad substitute for the highs. But there's a limit to my strategy -- these are all very much cause-effect type activities. Meaning, there's high-energy input, and then satisfying results ensue. But that's not sustainable at all times. That day-to-day tranquility or satisfaction...that's harder. I believe that when I can figure that out that's what's going to make it easier to continue an addiction free lifestyle.
I am convinced that my parent’s decision to parent us in a healthier way than either family was the deal sealer. I was able to never start smoking. (Dad and I are convinced that I would quickly become at least a pack a day smoker. By God I would work hard until I became a carton a day smoker. I would smoke more than any one else.) I spent very little time drinking during my young adult and adult life. It was liquid courage or used as a social lubricant to soften the edges of discomfort in uncomfortable settings. (This worked very well thank you but I quickly realized that I really l liked it so the controlling side of my genetic makeup put a stop to the foolishness).
Even when I briefly stumbled in the mire that was addiction, my family would leave me where I was and not try to drag me along. They were patient and I would always “right” myself once again. My mom says that “No one is bad; or good. There IS no good or bad but there was only me as I am, working toward my vision of the fully evolved ME.” She also believed in a zen like philosophy that there were no “best” choices, action or thoughts; there are no “worst” choices, actions, or thoughts. There are “only choices, actions, or thoughts that will or won't get me closer toward being that evolved version of who I dream of being.” She would tell me, “don't spend time beating yourself up that you made "a bad choice" or "always make bad choices but to simply recognize that the choice turned out not to help you evolve, and now you know.” Dad would say to “go on and try a new choice and keep trying”. “There is no score; there is no judgment or evaluation and that shame ain’t worth as much as you think.”
For my parents who have told me all along how wonderful I am, I realize that I was simply lucky to have been born to parents who responded to good things in me, and to whom I responded in turn. They assured me that this will happen again and again in the future but it will be to my “greatest good”. My parents were living examples that we can look at the past without regret, learn to accept, let go and move on and that in every situation “it is what it is.”
I observed the contrasting natures of my two families and learned from it. I knew early on which side of the genetic pool in which I was swimming. I remember listening to the family members who totally owned their addiction discuss how they spent so many years carrying the shame of committing crimes both real and imagined, and the shame of having been the victim of crimes. They would say that they would carry their shame until it became a part of them and a part of their identity. They would say that it didn’t end with getting clean. They would talk about how they would stop doing the things that “got in the way of living” and would learn to think and act differently, but the past still loomed large and that they “could not get away from it”. But that they had to believe that redemption was achievable.
I have never stepped foot in a meeting not that I don’t need to but because I choose not to. Instead I choose to lead the life my parents worked so hard to create for me.
Photo by McBLG97' found on Flickr protected by a Creative Commons License
By The Book’s definition, addiction is based in not only some chemical imbalance but also in some sort of undiagnosed (or diagnosed) mental illness… predominately depression or anxiety. In my practice and in my life, I see fear as the cornerstone of addiction or maybe they desire to muffle the truth. Many folks are fearful or feel worthless about who they are and about their abilities and how much better it feels to look elsewhere…in the bottom of a glass, a pill bottle, at a blackjack table, or during soulless sex, instead of sitting in the feeling of having to really own their shit and moving on. I guess most of us are reluctant to shine a light on the dark recesses of who we really are.
On my mother’s side of the family, addiction is a family inclination. We are a family of fallen angels….complex and Shakespearan in nature….restless brooding and unsettled spirits by our true natures while acting as court jesters and audience pleasers to accommodate the comfort of others. Many of my relatives would (or still do) something in excess…chain-smoked, drank, worked, partied, shopped, whatever. Damn they are the most competitive family I know. “Whatever you can do I can do better” was their mantra. In addition they did everything at full speed… As I have learned through the years, it wasn’t all negative though. These folks lived their lives with the “have fun…live life…balls out…” mentality. No day is wasted. But at what cost?
Conversely I also inherited genetic matter from reliable farm stock. These were “Salt of the earth” people. They worked hard and prayed hard. These folks were serious about everything. “No having dessert until you ate all of your dinner”. Don’t waste anything….”those poor starving people in Biafra”. These people were hard and angry. They used hard words and lived hard lives. They felt most comfortable when believing that they could also control nature and God. These folks had a knack of being black linings on silver clouds. Why be happy with a grade of a 99 when you could earn a 100? These folks thrived in their own personal living pressure cooker of perfection and suffocation. A single negative incident was a point of a larger whole, distant negative landscape in a viewfinder.
Thankfully I hit the parent lottery and my parents knew the strengths and weakness of the genetic makeup in each family and parented accordingly. My parents never demanded that we be perfect. The tendency to fail was accepted as part of the human condition. They encouraged learning without betraying feeling; to protect without stifling; to guide without coercing; and to encourage independence. My upbringing was full of contradiction and enigmas. There was not simple equation, no single map. My parents’ contend that the world is designed to grind people down and make them feel unspecial. They believed that from the moment we enter this world, someone is evaluating our behavior and "grading" it on some level; often comparing it against others. We learn it early. We're not enough. Someone is always better at it--whatever "it" is. And we carry this message with us, and tell ourselves it even when no one else is around to tell us. And then we even start telling it to (or thinking it about) other people, too. It's a kind of cyclic trap--one person is made to feel less special, and then starts replicating that pattern on someone else. My parents did a great job of promoting our uniqueness. My parents told us that we were talented, smart, strong, and independent. We were shining lights in this world of dullish mediocrity. I have thanked my parents many times for this.
That being said, however, there have been several occasions when my “being” just didn’t feel right. These are the days when the addict in me surfaces. My psyche sometimes feels like Pisa leaning to the right or left and I seem to be perpetually trying to center myself. There are days when I can not find my center at all. I have to keep wriggling to get comfortable psychic poses. It's a strange and disquieting thing, the addictive drift. Often, I just feel like a jumbled mass of odds and ends like a utility drawer. Or dribs and drabs of unfinished business, like a page full of uncrossed T's.
My cousin explains it this way: If he is in an "okay" state, he needs to upgrade it with something. Formerly, it was alcohol or whatever; these days, he has nothing except maybe ice cream. And even though ice cream is a powerful force for good, it's not quite the same as a mind-altering substance. He wants ice cold vodka and pills. My cousin has actually said : “Why just feel "okay" when you can feel GREAT just by taking a pill or a drink? Why just feel GREAT at a party or some such social setting, when you can feel GREAT any old time? Why stay in a "normal" state when you can have more joy, more peace, more calm, more energy, more confidence? More. More. More.” That kind of thinking scares that hell out of me because on a spiritual level I “get it.”
To cope with it all, in the grand tradition of Mom’s side of the family, I self medicate. Unlike several of them who are no longer with us because of it. I mix it up: a little sugar, working out, a lot of long hot showers, some escapist reading, time with friends, movie watching, and my favorite…traveling. My strategy is simple. I concentrate on a lot on work and on my relationships with family and friends and creative endeavors because the sense of pride and accomplishment are pretty damn good, and a not-so-bad substitute for the highs. But there's a limit to my strategy -- these are all very much cause-effect type activities. Meaning, there's high-energy input, and then satisfying results ensue. But that's not sustainable at all times. That day-to-day tranquility or satisfaction...that's harder. I believe that when I can figure that out that's what's going to make it easier to continue an addiction free lifestyle.
I am convinced that my parent’s decision to parent us in a healthier way than either family was the deal sealer. I was able to never start smoking. (Dad and I are convinced that I would quickly become at least a pack a day smoker. By God I would work hard until I became a carton a day smoker. I would smoke more than any one else.) I spent very little time drinking during my young adult and adult life. It was liquid courage or used as a social lubricant to soften the edges of discomfort in uncomfortable settings. (This worked very well thank you but I quickly realized that I really l liked it so the controlling side of my genetic makeup put a stop to the foolishness).
Even when I briefly stumbled in the mire that was addiction, my family would leave me where I was and not try to drag me along. They were patient and I would always “right” myself once again. My mom says that “No one is bad; or good. There IS no good or bad but there was only me as I am, working toward my vision of the fully evolved ME.” She also believed in a zen like philosophy that there were no “best” choices, action or thoughts; there are no “worst” choices, actions, or thoughts. There are “only choices, actions, or thoughts that will or won't get me closer toward being that evolved version of who I dream of being.” She would tell me, “don't spend time beating yourself up that you made "a bad choice" or "always make bad choices but to simply recognize that the choice turned out not to help you evolve, and now you know.” Dad would say to “go on and try a new choice and keep trying”. “There is no score; there is no judgment or evaluation and that shame ain’t worth as much as you think.”
For my parents who have told me all along how wonderful I am, I realize that I was simply lucky to have been born to parents who responded to good things in me, and to whom I responded in turn. They assured me that this will happen again and again in the future but it will be to my “greatest good”. My parents were living examples that we can look at the past without regret, learn to accept, let go and move on and that in every situation “it is what it is.”
I observed the contrasting natures of my two families and learned from it. I knew early on which side of the genetic pool in which I was swimming. I remember listening to the family members who totally owned their addiction discuss how they spent so many years carrying the shame of committing crimes both real and imagined, and the shame of having been the victim of crimes. They would say that they would carry their shame until it became a part of them and a part of their identity. They would say that it didn’t end with getting clean. They would talk about how they would stop doing the things that “got in the way of living” and would learn to think and act differently, but the past still loomed large and that they “could not get away from it”. But that they had to believe that redemption was achievable.
I have never stepped foot in a meeting not that I don’t need to but because I choose not to. Instead I choose to lead the life my parents worked so hard to create for me.
Photo by McBLG97' found on Flickr protected by a Creative Commons License
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Comment by Mr Nice Guy
Pop Culturist
This is just a great, great read.
Insightful and honest - down to earth and human (frailties and all).
Your musings on life are beautifully penned.
LYW
Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
Thanks so much. Your comments are very touching and much appreciated. Hgh praise indeed from some one whom I admire very much!
Mis
Comment by Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
You be talking my talk here! I`m TOTALLY addicted to addictions. I fully emerse myself in one, swill it around the glass and deeply inhale the seductive aroma before swallowing it down in one throat burning gulp. And when I tire of that addiction I find something else, equally as addictive, to move onto and explore with childlike curiosity. It`s a dangerous place to be, if you don`t know the limits and set the boundaries BEFORE you have to test them.
I think you have done good Mis, in finding a way of having little, balanced tidbits of everything - like an addiction buffet you got going on? There are so many little morsels to choose from that you fill your plate and have a sample of everything for fear of filling up on just one. I like it, I like it ALOT!
Leaf out of book? Taken!
Ash
Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
I have read your comments over and over. I love how your words sound and read. "Exploring with childlike curiousity" check!. "Balanced tidbits of everything" ...well I try!
There are so many little morsels to choose from that you fill your plate and have a sample of everything for fear of filling up on just one. I like it, I like it ALOT!
You are so right sista!
Thank you so much.
Mis
Comment by Lilla
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
Have to agree with MNG ... a great, great read!
*shaking head* memories of teachings coming into focus ... a yes grasshopper ... All life is change and striving is the source of all suffering... *fading out again*
Your Mum was so wise :
Om.
Na.
Mah.
Shi.
Va.
Ya.
Om Namah Shivaya.
I honour the divinity that resides within me.
I just love it when you reflect, thank you so much for sharing, Miss.
Lilla ...
Comment by Miswanderlust
Killer Beats
Ramble On
Hipnotherapy
I am so honored by your sweet words.
This
I honour the divinity that resides within me.
Thanks so much friend. You always know the perfect thing to say.
Mis