Addiction. What is it? I’m sick of the word. It’s never really been defined for me anyway. Like the color blue. Define it. Why is it blue? Does calling it blue make it blue? I don’t know. I’m in a weird place and I have this forum of which to speak. But remember, this is David and it has nothing to do with Sheila. She’ll be back soon and I’ll be gone. Now, addiction; I’m addicted to almost everything. The things of which I am not addicted are the things of which I have not tried. I have not tried them out of my reverent fear of my addictions and for fear they would take over my life. To quote Shawn Mullins (whoever the hell that is right?) from a song called Pandora’s Box, “Boys I know why you are here. You’ve come to take me for a ride. But before you do there’s something you should know, that I’m awful hard to hide, yes I’m awful hard to hide,” says Pandora.
I remember asking a friend what his drug of choice is. His answer was more. I concur.
Here’s the thing, my addictions make me feel weak and vulnerable; like a failure, someone unable to control his own impulses and desires. Yet I know, deep down that these impulses and desires are the seat of my power. The only true power I have. At one point or other in my life I have given up everything I was addicted to; booze, sex, drugs, computer games, sugar, exercising, gambling. They just keep coming back. So I’m currently in a mode of indulging those addictions that I am unwilling to give up but keeping them contained. “How’s it going”, you ask? Not well. But I’m not willing to castrate myself from myself and make some ridiculous, hygienic choice to purify my soul and rid myself of my desires, which in turn almost always turn into my addictions. There’s got to be a way; a way to dance with the Devil; a way to give the Devil his due and still walk in the light for most of the time. I suppose there is and I suppose it’s different for every single one of us, finding that balance.
The dark is scary, isn’t it? My least favorite time of the day is after 6 before night. I used to believe it was because it was after work or after school and dinner had to be prepared etc. I know many people who dislike this time of the day, particularly if you have kids. But I think it has less to do with how tired we are and more because deep down, we’re afraid of the dark. The dark is coming no matter what we do. That’s why vampires scared me so much as a kid. No matter what you did, they always came out. You could not stop them, other than finding them during the day and driving a stake through their heart, and even as an adult I’m unsure I want to be doing that.
Anyway, just some thoughts on how one deals with the darker aspects of oneself. I’m in the dark with it all as you can tell. Enjoy your day.
A continuum of the ascetic and the addict
A playing field of our free will and discipline
Self-denial heightens anticipation and release
Moderation the mainstay of life
Profligate indulgence, carnival, bacchanal
Venting the dark, or the dark swallows you.
It all has its place.
Also, IMHO the fear of the dark is primal.
This is hard-wired in us from ancient past. We had no control of the dark until we harnessed fire. So we have a fear and intimacy with fire and the dark. So fire and the dark are mythic, symbolic and tied to the soul.
Incredibly interesting stuff.
Awesome stuff! It all has it’s place indeed. This is the stuff of life. Venting dark, or the dark swallows you. This is one of my favorite poems on marriage:
Sometimes our life reminds me
of a forest in which there is a graceful clearing
and in that opening a house,
an orchard and garden,
comfortable shades, and flowers
red and yellow in the sun, a pattern
made in the light for the light to return to.
The forest is mostly dark,its ways
to be made anew day after day, the dark
richer than the light and more blessed,
provided we stay brave
enough to keep on going in.
I love that, from Wendell Berry. “The dark richer than the light and more blessed.”
Yes, I remember particularly when I was in college (I lived near campus, had no car, was in the center of a city where it really wasn’t safe to be out alone after dark) the sort of sadness that set in, once the dinner dishes were done, and the homework was finished for the next day, and there were several hours before I could justify going to bed.
I read a lot in those days. Watched a lot of crap television, too (this was in the early days of stuff like “Full House.” To my horror, I remember actually looking forward to the show). I took up embroidery in those days to keep myself sane while I sat, trapped (or so I imagined). I was like Rapunzel in her tower (I lived in a high-rise), waiting for something to happen, waiting to settle into a group of friends to go out with, or a boyfriend to date (didn’t have either, really, for much of my college career).
Now that I’m older, more mobile, live in a safer place, and am usually damned glad to get home at the end of the day and have a few hours where I don’t have to talk to anyone, I find the worst time, the real dark night of the soul, are the 2 am’s on the nights when I have insomnia.
Sunday afternoons at about 3 pm can be pretty depressing, too, though: it’s too late to do anything to enjoy your weekend at that point, the workweek looms, most of the folks I know are involved with family on that day.
This comment is not, in any way, meant to be judgmental. As someone who has struggled with various “compulsions”(I prefer to call them compulsions rather than addictions because I believe true addiction is a physical process involving body/brain chemistry)in my distant past, I feel I can make some general comments. In my experience, most compulsions are the result of an effort to fill a vague, or not so vague, emptiness–a hole in the soul. Darkness and night seem to make that hole deeper, and harder to ignore. The answer is to find something more meaningful than drugs, sex, alcohol, gambling, shopping, or whatever your compulsion(s) of choice might be to fill that hole. It only seems simple once each person finds that answer for themselves. While all compulsions can bring temporary relief, or escape, they all prove ultimately to be unsatisfying. One needs to decide the motivation behind continuing to pursue a course of behavior so unrewarding–what’s that old saying about an individual who continues old patterns, and is forever baffled at the same empty results? In other words, does a mature mind continue doing something that makes it so unhappy?
DBW,
I would not take your comments as judgmental. I believe that you can be addicted either psychologically or physiologically. There are drugs that are literally chemically addicting, whereas shopoholics or endorphin junkies (that kind of thing) is psychological addictive or perhaps both.
I also think you are right in that some addicts are filling a void in their life with an addiction. Addicts can be giving into to their addiction to ease some “pain” they have suffered.
My comments above were not meant to say that addiction is not serious. An addiction can literally swallow your life and kill you.
j swift–I didn’t take either of your comments as saying addiction is not serious. In fact, one of my personal credos is “Anything in moderation,” which I believe echoes your first comment. Ah, but the discipline to moderate all that free will–therein lies the test.
I’ll tell you what I think true addiction is. And I speak as an addict. My addictions are alcohol and nicotine. And writing. And other things.
Addiction is I think a chemical thing. I truly believe that. It’s that chasing of that rush of pleasure. But of course we all chase the rush of pleasure. So it’s deeper.
It’s the chasing of the rush of pleasure to the point of destruction. To the point where you’ll destroy yourself or destroy others, maybe slowly or maybe quickly.
Can you be addicted to non-physical things? Yes. Can you be “addicted to love?” Yes. Yes. I think women in particular are prone to that particular addiction, although men can get it too. Can you become addicted to power? Yes. I think men in particular are prone to that addiction, though women can get it too.
Addiction is that insidious point when the source of your pleasure becomes more important than healthy things.
I’ve been there. I’m here to admit it I’ve been there, embarassingly so and not in the distant past either. When the need for the buzz for the booze exceeded my love for my wife and child. When the booze became more important than my wife and child, where I could see the destruction I was wreaking upon them and I continued anyway because the high was more important.
I can’t tell you the shame I have in realizing that’s where I was, but that’s where I was. Where I could even see the physical toll it was taking on my body and my soul, and still said, “fuck it, fuck everything, I just want more, I need to numb out the other shit that’s bugging me and I need more of this pleasure. It makes the bad go away and makes everything else feel good.”
That’s when you’re to the point of addiction my friend. When you consciously or unconsciously are making that choice.
And the point of salavation? Where you have that moment of clarity when you realize that’s what you’re doing, and decide you must put a stop to it.
And the point of damnation? When you have that moment of clarity and realize that’s what you’re doing–and say “fuck it” and keep doing it anyway.
That is the choice between salvation and damnation, I truly believe.
Hanging by a thread? I’ve been there.
What Is Addiction?
So I was reading a thread on addiction started by David, and I had some thoughts on it. And I thought about it, and said some things. Then I looked at …
As an alcoholic with five weeks to go until I celebrate 19 years of sobriety I can both sympathise and rage about those who continue a behavior long past the point of detriment.
That’s all addiction is, really, the continuation of a behavior after the realisation that it’s detrimental. There are fairly harmless addictions, I’m continuing to fart around on the internet rather than mowing the yard and back pasture, while I know that the delay will make it more difficult when my wife finally raises her voice enough to get me on the tractor.
There are life threatening addictions.
Personally, I don’t give a rat’s ass if a non diabetic is addicted to sugar, bad teeth and a fat ass aren’t all that life threatening, nor have I seen many sugar addicts knocking over convenience stores for a Hershey Bar. I’ve never once seen a woman standing on street corners selling her body to pay for an internet habit.
I have a simple piece of advice. Worry about stopping the life-threatening behavior. Once you’ve done that, worry about stopping behavior that simply makes you unhappy. Then quit worrying.
Only one guy in recorded history walked on water. The rest of us should be satisfied to not be drowning.
Me? I’m going to go mow.
Peter–I like that. There’s nothing wrong with simply walking on grass, either.
Addiction is must to bring soup in one’s life, as long as its not suffocating others..
addiction can be to fulfil one’s dream too, wherein one head towards the destination madly..
I really enjoy the days when I sense that I am feeling strong about doing something…
when I am dying to get\acheive something…caz that gives me reason to live…
I feel our mortal life is all about obsession!!