This was shared by a Chanda Lynn on Facebook that I follow and post her videos. She is a wonderful writer and knows first hand the demons that we are fighting. We have to end the stigma to fight this health crisis. Please take the time and read this and share it.
Being an addict- to me- really just means trying to escape.
Many of us find different ways to escape the pain, the bouts of depression, disappointment, boredom, or loneliness in our lives. Whether it be taking home the next guy or girl from the bar, drinking in excess, gambling, over-eating, over-working, co-dependency, or other avenues.
It’s easy to judge the drug addict, because their disease is the most visible. But I find that the escapes or addictions that are most internalized and socially unrecognized, are sometimes the most spiritually damaging.
Becoming an addict was easy. As soon as I felt that warmth from the first pill I ever took, I fell in love. I wasn’t in pain- physical or emotional- I wasn’t depressed and I certainly wasn’t disappointed. I couldn’t consciously understand what was happening to me and I can’t be all too sure exactly why? Maybe it was because I felt that something that seemed so right for me, couldn’t be wrong. Just like that the car took off and by the time I woke up I was already going over 100 mph. and ready to hit a tree. Becoming an addict was so easy, too easy.
Recognizing I was becoming one was virtually impossible. It’s not because I didn’t ever hear “drugs are bad” or “don’t do drugs”. I think it was something much deeper. I couldn’t recognize it because I thought it would never happen to me. The idea of being a drug addict- in my mind- meant that someone chose to be addicted. They knew exactly what they were doing, when they were doing it. Much to my surprise, it doesn’t actually work that way. Why not? It’s something so simple to recognize really…Well, at least from an outer perspective. But for me, well, I found my “cure”. No more crying in my room, all alone talking to walls. No more cutting myself so deep that I’d be left with scars, still visible today. No more internalizing all the emotions I was never allowed to express because my family “didn’t talk about things like that”. No, you see, these pills, these strips, these bags, they fixed me. I didn’t feel so suicidal and depressed anymore.
Why would I recognize that this was harmful to me? When all it did was help me? That’s the fallacy of using. Whether it’s drugs, sex, eating or any other thing, you feel like they’re helping you. If I didn’t, well I wouldn’t have continued. If it didn’t help me escape, what purpose did it have for me? It wouldn’t have. I wish it hadn’t have. I realized I was an addict when I ran out and tried to stop. Then that car hits that tree and you realize everything you couldn’t see while you were racing at 100 mph. It was bad, it was so bad. I woke up. But not peacefully, not a gentle nudge on the shoulder and a soft whisper to get out of bed. No, I woke up and the escape I so desperately needed wasn’t there. It was so easy to become an addict. Too easy.
This is why I can’t possibly judge another person, or say things like “you knew what you were doing“, because in my case, I didn’t. I don’t know why, but I just didn’t. Now I am 2 years in recovery and will fight these demons until probably the day I die. I want you to know, that’s it’s so easy to become an addict.
Please, don’t think that it’s not, please don’t think what I thought- that it can’t happen to you. Because when that escape finds you, in what ever form it does and you slip up just once and taste it, you may never find your way back. Even if you think “it will never happen to me”. All it takes is once and that one thing becomes the “yin to your yang” and it fits so perfectly, so perfectly that you never realize it’s like a massive tick sucking every breath of life from you, whispering “feed me”.
Feel free to share, let people know how easy it is.