Medicine.

“Medicine”

~CherylLynn~

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will.”

~Charlotte Bronte~

By our own biological make-up, we are all addicts of something; a substance, love, sex, abusive relationships, toxic people, a career, money and greed, of life. It begs me to ask the question whether being an addict is or can be a positive thing…ever? I don’t necessarily think there is a right or wrong answer to this question unless, of course, the addiction abducts and molests our fragile minds to the point of dormancy or unresponsiveness to our present and/or future. It is when an addiction takes over our free will, consumes our thoughts, the inability to think consciously, clearly, concisely and disables us from operating at a functional, positive demeanor that an addiction, clearly, becomes a disabling crutch.

We’ve all heard the saying, “Pick your poison!” So, what’s your poison? I have many; some clear, irrefutable, admirable and medicinal qualities; physically and emotionally. I love to love. I fall in love hard. I’m addicted to love stories, happy endings, unconditional love, irrevocable love; the type of love you could die for if you had to make the choice. I believe each and every one of us has a karmic soulmate somewhere out there in this vast, endless world.  I’m addicted to extending a helping hand to others; those less fortunate, those suffering insurmountable loss, pain and tragedy.

The great philosopher, Leo Tolstoy, quoted, “The only way to be happy is to love, to love self-denyingly, to love everybody and everything, without any rules; to throw out from oneself on all sides, like a spider, an adhesive web of love to catch in it all that comes: an old woman, a child, a peasant, or a policeman.”

 Why do I have these particular addictions?  Because, I have been the less fortunate, the one suffering the unbelievable, insurmountable losses; at the age of eight-years-old, I endured the loss of my father to suicide. He was my light, my life, every beat of my heart and on that cold March day…my heart shattered and died into pieces that are still scarred and tattered. By the age of ten, I sustained impassable types of abuse; physical, emotional and sexual. My childhood was lost, abandoned and non-existent. Through my teen years I was undeniably absent, adrift and my soul was invisible. I was suicidal. I self-mutilated until I was twenty-four years old until I found out I was pregnant with my first child; a son. Instantaneously, my comatose soul and abeyant heart pumped with so much light and incontestable love; I found my purpose. I found my why and wherefore of being put on this sometimes cruel earth. I was at peace with my past and looked forward to my future. I also became an active member and advocate for the mentally ill and suicide awareness. I was finally, truly…found! 

Do I think that these are negative “addictions”? My answer to that question is…No. But, do I have unfavorable, abrogating, detrimental “addictions”? Yes! About three-and-a-half years ago, I discovered that I had a chronic, debilitating and disabling illness called Occipital Neuralgia. The excruciating, extreme pain that I endure each and every day is unimaginable and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. So, I started going to a pain clinic and was prescribed pain medications/opioids. They ranged from pills to pain patches even mouth films. As the years progressed, three failed neurosurgeries ensued and more pain prevailed which led me down the path of dependency and the need and use of higher dosages due to my own body’s acclamation and tolerance for them. By the beginning of 2017, I was taking enough opioids to kill a small horse, literally. On February 3rd of 2017, I took my last pain pill. I made a conscious choice that this unhealthy, unstable and possibly deadly dependency or “addiction” was not viable, logical or livable any more. So, I made an apprehensive but necessary phone call to an outreach program, did an initial evaluation over the phone and it was then decided that I was a prime candidate for intensive outpatient treatment three days a week for three hours a day for dual diagnosis; severe mental illness and “addiction”. Hearing the word “addiction” or to infer that I was, in fact, an “addict” was bewildering, disheartening, disconcerting and shameful; I was, yet again…lost.

“The unmanageability at its heart means that there is a beast in me. It is in me still, I live in negotiation with a shadow side that has to be respected. There is a wound. I believe that this is more than a characteristic of addiction, I think it is a part of being human, to carry a wound, a flaw and again, paradoxically it is only by accepting it that we can progress.”

~Russell Brand; Recovery, Freedom From Our Addictions”

My first day of intensive group therapy was on February 22, 2017. Driving the forty minutes to the appointment into the city was agonizing and intense. I had so many racing thoughts. I had so many unanswered questions and the feeling of uneasiness, worry and doubt about what “it” would be like. What would “the people” be like? Would they judge me? Would they accept me? How would I explain to them that I was a “failure”…an “addict” and how did I get to this point? What was my “Medicine”? What was my drug of choice and was it a choice? As I walked through the doors that cold Wednesday morning, I looked at the variety of faces, races and ages of all kinds that surrounded me. They smiled at me and greeted me all individually; I did not expect this. As we began the discussion, I felt compelled and wanted…needed to tell my story; I did. The three hour and fifteen minute appointment flew by and there is one thing that I can be completely honest about…I felt instantly like this was a family and they accepted me as part of it no matter how broken I was, no matter how long it was since I last used, no matter the mistakes I made; they truly loved and accepted me. In three decades of psychiatric treatment this was the one and only time I was completely sincere, genuine and forthright about every facet of my life; for better or worse ~ completely exposed and raw…willingly. I felt alive! On the way home, I kept replaying a song in my mind by the lyrical genius musical group, Daughter, called, ironically, “Medicine”.

“Medicine”

Lyrics by Daughter

“Pick it up. Pick it all up and start again.”

“You’ve got a second chance. You could go home. Escape it all…it’s just irrelevant.”

“It’s just medicine.”

“You could still be, what you want to, what you said you were, when I met you.”

“You’ve got a warm heart, you’ve got a beautiful brain. But, it’s disintegrating…from all the medicine…”

It’s never too late to admit, evaluate and then reevaluate “your” addictions. Recognize and be cognitive of whether they are positive or negative addictions. If something or someone is preventing you from living and prevailing in a positive light and progression in life “they” or “it” may be toxic. Always remember no one is immune to addiction of any kind. We are all one day away from tragic loss, homelessness, misfortune, adversity and addiction. There is help out there and taking the initial phone call or step is the most therapeutic “Medicine” that you will ever take in your entire life with or in regards to a toxic addiction.

Comments