The loneliness of addiction is something that, at least for me, comes part and parcel with the maladjusted behaviors that constitute substance abuse. It's ironic, because many of us use to sate the pain of being lonely, but eventually, even dope can't numb you enough to not notice it. And then you find yourself alone and high. And not a pleasant kind of alone either. And perhaps "alone" doesn't constitute the whole story. In fact, one of the worst sensations of isolation come as a result of being around people, but unable to connect with them.
There have been some many times in the long ugly history of my struggle, where I have craved so desperately to reach out to someone who could understand and share my head space for a minute....or at least to find someone who would understand and wouldn't judge me. I am ashamed enough of what I am, and of my past.
People looking down on me for being in this situation don't help at all. I know I did this to myself. I know I made my choices and now I gotta lie in this godforsaken bed. I know the only way to get better is to go through the terribly uncomfortable process of learning how to function without a head change. And that's a topic that requires its own blog post.
Sadly, some of the most self righteous judgement I've ever encountered has come from fellow addicts. More than anything, I feel like we have a duty to love one another, to encourage one another, to celebrate our successes against this ball and chain, and at the same time to support each other when we fail. If we don't do that for each other, surely no one else will. The sober world, at best, does not understand our journey, however empathetic they may be, and at worse, they openly condemn us. I've even heard such Maoist nonsense from people that all addicts should be shot. If we, as a people, pride ourselves on being enlightened and rational, if we claim to be repulsed by barbarism and brutality, than a solution such as certain death for the addict has no place in our world. Indeed, were we to enforce such a policy, we would find ourselves in a Holocaust of our own making, with such behavior making us no better than the Nazis.
Anyway, I digress. My point is, that if addicts can't rely on each other for support and understanding, then who can we rely on? Certainly not the world at large.
Everyone experiences loneliness at times. It is part of the human condition. But the deep pit of despair which comes about as a natural consequence of altering the brain's chemistry by way of drug abuse, I would argue is worse than run if the mill loneliness and depression. This is only conjecture, based on basic tenets of pathophysiology and pharmacology, because I actually do not know what it is like to be anything other than what I am. I have never been clean long enough even begin to attempt to normalize my brain chemistry, and I have used for the better part of thirty years, pregnancies and lactations aside. But even though I am not qualified to speak from experience from both sides of the fence, it just seems to make sense from a biological perspective that the lows would be as deep as the highs. That is, after all, what keeps us hooked.
Anyhow, I have passed another night alone. But it doesn't matter that I'm alone, cause often I feel that way anyway, despite who's around. Writing this our has helped temper my mood and ground me in a powerful way. If by some slim chance, my writing found an audience, I can only pray that it was logical, coherent, and didn't bore you to tears. Thanks for listening.
À bientôt...
