Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Tag: addiction

  • Losing the Battle

    Losing the Battle

    Around three months ago I was approached by a friend, he wanted to have dinner. I asked if Indian was okay and he said it was. We met at my favorite Indian restaurant on a Wednesday night and had delicious food. I just thought he wanted to have dinner.

    He then started to tell me about the mess he had gotten into – he was using heavy drugs, couldn’t stop and was doing some rather dangerous ones and dealing with some sketchy characters.

    I’m pretty open about being clean and sober, talk about it, post about it and celebrate it. So he knew I was someone who might be able to help. I was mostly a drunk when I was using – lots of alcohol and a few drugs when they were available.

    He talked about his drugs of choice and what it was like for him. He was concerned with how he was presenting himself and if others had noticed him acting strangely. I was honest with him – yes some people had questioned his behavior and demeanor. He didn’t like that he was obviously showing signs of the drug use. Then he pulled up his sleeves to show me track marks and told me how bad it really was getting.

    I have a friend or two in N.A. and I got him hooked up with them and a good meeting and he promised to go. He did reach out to the members and attended a meeting, where he rambled on and on for a few minutes but wasn’t very coherent, I’m told. He wouldn’t go back to the meeting, see he had a history of attending N.A. before and had had this demon to fight in the past, but it had reemerged and was winning this time.

    My friend kept on telling me he “knew what to do” just needed help doing it, but he wouldn’t use the only tools I knew to use – meetings, program and fellowship. He continued his downward spiral and again asked me for help.

    I talked to him about the Employee Assistants Program (EAP) at work and how we could get some help. That they may be able to find him a facility to detox and get better with help. He was on board and we worked with the bosses, EAP and got him lined up with a treatment center. He was hesitantly on board with treatment, he’d done it before though and had some old ideas that were keeping him from being fully committed I think.

    He did a couple weeks in the treatment center and left early. He couldn’t be around those types of people and couldn’t relate to their problems, he was different. One of the things they talk about in A.A. is how thinking your case is different is a way to get yourself killed.

    My friend took some common steps that we see in addiction – he did a geographic, thinking if he moved away from the problem it would help. He thought keeping busy with work would help. But he had the dark web and access to anything with the click of a few buttons.

    He called me Friday night for some help with a work problem. I paused my game and tried to help him. He told me he was “in Costa Rica for a tattoo”. That’s the last I heard from him.

    Today we were told at work that he had died. There were no details released yet but I have a few theories. There were many tears shed.

    I left A.A. a few years ago. I haven’t regretted that until today when I was ruing over the steps I had taken to help my friend and if I had done enough. Even wondering if I was just so out of touch with recovery now that I couldn’t reach my friend with a message he would hear.

    My friends assure me there wasn’t anything more I could do, that I did the right things and led the way for a solution, a way out.

    I am sad and mad about my friend. He was so young and so crazy full of life. I never knew what bullshit would come out of his mouth but I would usually laugh. We had opposing political views but could converse about issues without losing our shit. He had this deep desire to love other people. He loved his toys and his friends.

    I’m sorry that he found himself on a dark journey, I know it was hard for him to get out of.

    There is hope for the hopeless. Reach out to me, reach out to family or friends or the EAP. You can reach out to A.A. or N.A. or a million other A’s too.

    I will miss him.

  • Exercise – Is There a Cure?

    I’ve been thinking a lot about exercise recently – no, no don’t worry, I’m not going to start or anything crazy like that…. I was thinking about the characteristics of it that remind me of alcoholism. No really…

    Like the first time a person gets drunk, they think it’s a good idea – all their friends are doing it and so they give it a try;  before you know it they’re falling down, puking can’t walk. Going to the gym the first time can be just like that – they’re pressured into it by their friends and society, they start out on the treadmill when they get done their legs are jelly… if they run too much they’ll throw up and get dehydrated, get light-headed and dizzy…. The similarities, just start here – lets look at more examples.

    They are entirely normal in every respect except in the effect exercise has upon them. They keep exercising, nothing changes for a while (just like when an alcoholic begins to drink, all seems normal for a time) then they start to lose weight, act differently, they may start to smell. Their friends are too ashamed to say anything at first, their family is concerned – they spend hours and hours away from home at the “gym” where other people understand them and can relate. If they continue on for long periods of time their body will hardly resemble the normal body at all – their exercise life seems the only normal one. Finally the exercise becomes paramount to all other things and the gym becomes like a second home.

    Doing the same thing over and over – expecting different results…sounds familiar doesn’t it? Curl that weight once, no… maybe fifteen times until it hurts. The ones who may be too far gone are the ones who say they get a high off of it, that they feel good after exercising… for them there may be no hope at all, we may have to lock them in weight room with their energy bars and sports drinks and watch in horror as they slowly exercise themselves into nothingness.

    Sometimes an injury will occur. First a sprain – so they slow down, they take it easy, they can manage this… this won’t stop them, and here’s how. Perhaps a torn rotator cuff would convince them that it’s dangerous and their families beg them to stop… but no, surgery and “physical therapy” so they can do it again – pain is a small price to pay, they have to exercise. We’ve seen it on the news – those athletes whose careers have come crashing down after an injury prevents them from exercising – they sink into that pit of a recliner life, doomed to watch others workout, living vicariously through their efforts…. they cannot at this point differentiate the true from the false.

    It’s an addiction now – they can’t stop. Sometimes going two or three times a day to the gym, maybe a personal trainer (a.k.a. pusher) to encourage them to branch out and try new things.. the treadmill was a gateway drug, leading to more and more dangerous things that will slowly waste them away into nothingness.  They have to keep going to feel “normal” but it’s never enough – one weight, 5 laps, 20 presses… it’ll never be enough for them – they have an insatiable craving for sweat, pain, hard bodies… sick bastards.

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    weights

    Is there hope? A cure? I’m not sure if even a spiritual awakening would be enough to help them – most are to far gone after their second visit to the gym. I have to believe there is hope for them, I have to believe one day these folks will join us on the couch, chowing down on potato chips and ice-cream with not a care in the world… maybe someday they will be free, maybe someday they can live a normal life…