The Addiction Monster (part 3)

Mental illness runs deep through the roots of my family tree. I was genetically predisposed and destined for madness. I invented all sorts of serious sounding psychological woes, all of which logically and neatly explained my behavior.

My family meanwhile was falling apart. My paranoia and my obsessions were growing pathological. My Jekyll and Hyde mood swings were common but unpredictable. I would rant and rave uncontrollably over nothing at all. Then, when something serious with Lynetta or the kids did occur, something that required any amount thought or attention at all, I would simply collapse into a sobbing ball. I would hide my bedroom for hours at a time. Toward the end I would hide there for days at a time.

Through even the worst of my madness I was still able to put on my happy face mask and go to work. My coworkers knew that I had changed, but they attributed it all to stress. They thought that my teenage children were driving me crazy. (That is what I had told them anyway) They had no idea.

I was still able to wear my church mask as well. It frustrated Lynetta to no end, how I could literally put her through a Saturday night of Hell, and then calmly and quietly walk into church Sunday morning and act as if everything was just fine. (That was a trick that I learned in my childhood)

I quit singing. I quit praying. I just wanted it over with.

At the time I thought that I was just too big of a whimp to pull the trigger. Not a literal trigger of course (I don’t own a gun). My trigger was much neater and less messy. My trigger was a 5cc syringe and a 25 gauge needle. The syringe was to be filled first with the good stuff, to take away my pain, then the bad stuff, to take away my life.

Looking back now I realize that God had not walked away from me at all. He had let the monster out of his cage. He did allow the monster to punish me, to hurt me, to teach me, to humble me, but he would not allow the monster to kill me. God remained right there beside me the whole time.

It reminds me of a Bible story I once read:
Job 2:6 The Lord said to Satan, “Very well, then, he is in your hands; but you must spare his life.”

The Addiction Monster (part two)

The first sign that the monster had been loosed was an overwhelming feeling of stress. This seemed odd. I had weathered an unbelievable amount of stress over the previous few years and had apparently handled it all just fine.

This overwhelming stress soon morphed itself into a mild but persistent depression. With my nursing and pharmacology knowledge, combined with my pride and larger than life ego, I decided that I could successfully self medicate my way through this little set back.

Despite my best efforts the mild depression soon transformed itself into a chronic very debilitating funk. 12 hour night shifts at the hospital were becoming unmanageable. I needed a little help with my self medicating. I soon had medical Doctors and Psychiatrist prescribing me safe and appropriate medication. The only real snag was in the fact that I was lying through my teeth to obtain the drugs I wanted.

My nursing and pharmacology knowledge served me well yet again when I proceeded to mix the medication in inappropriate combinations and doses. I soon learned that the medicine worked much faster, and lasted much longer, when mixed with alcohol.

Paranoia, obsession, and constant mood swings quickly followed. This of course called for stronger medication. I was growing desperate so I turned to a very familiar and readily available nursing tool - a 5cc syringe with a 25 gauge needle.

The one time quiet monster was now growling, spitting and screaming. His roar was deafening and terrifying. He was out of control and unstoppable. This monster wanted me dead. He would not rest until he succeeded.

I resisted at first, but in my heart I knew that I was powerless. My efforts were too little – too late. My strength soon gave out. I gave in and agreed that this monster really knew best. He had been right all along. It would be best for everyone.

The Addiction Monster (part one)

Addiction is a very hard monster to explain and understand. Most medical experts describe it as, or liken it to, an allergy. (Alcoholics Anonymous Big Book Page xxvi)

For example: If a wasp or a bee happens to sting my Daughter Jesi, she breaks out, swells all up, and starts to itch. So far, (thank the Lord) the stings have not affected her respiratory function. But the doctors say that repeated exposure could over time lead to serious respiratory reactions.

If a wasp or a bee stings me however, it really does nothing except piss me off. Different people react differently to the same things.

Jesi tries her best to avoid wasps and bees. Me on the other hand, and thousands more just like me, are oddly and compulsively drawn to the very thing that is trying to kill us.

Addiction is also described as a Spiritual malady – a Spiritual disease. (Alcoholics Anonymous Big Book Page 64) I think that this is one is a little closer to the truth.

Spiritually speaking, there is a monster that lives inside of me. It has been with me for as long as I can remember. When I was younger it tempted me and tested me. I failed miserably. But, for reasons that I have never quite understood, God choose to spare me from most of the consequences. In other words, I got away with it - a lot.

When I was about 30 years old God did something remarkable and unexpected, something that I could never have done for myself. He locked the monster away. He kept it locked up in a dark quiet room down deep in my soul for about 20 years. Over those years I had forgotten that the monster even existed. But he was still there – always there - waiting.

About two years ago God, thinking that it was time for me to finally grow up and get my head and my butt out of the sand, simply and quietly turned the key and unlocked the door of that dark room - then he walked away.

The monster didn't bust out all at once. He could now come and go at will. He only came out a little at first - then a little more. Over time he grew bolder and more aggressive.

It didn't take long to realize the real intentions of this old monster of mine. His job was simple - to kill me. He almost succeeded.

Famous Quotes

“The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.”

Ernest Hemingway

I love this quote. My Addiction counselor quoted it last night in our session. He reminded me of how a bone always heals stronger after it has been broken. This gave me hope.

But isn’t Hemingway also the one who said “All thinking men are atheist”? Isn’t he also the one who put a shot gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger on July 2 1961? How can someone be so intelligent and so ignorant all at the same time? That is a question that has been haunting me a lot lately. To have lived, learned and experienced so much…. How did I end up here?

Another quote that I have learned to finally appreciate is credited to American author Napoleon Hill (1883 – 1970)

“The paths of least resistance make all rivers, and some men crooked”

I used to think this quote meant that if you are lazy, you will end up a liar and a crook – or worse yet - an alcoholic or an addict. But if you really think about it, crooked rivers are not necessarily bad – neither are crooked people.

I have sat through many Speaker Meetings lately. A Speaker Meeting is where an addict or an alcoholic stands up in front of a group of strangers, and honestly and openly tells their story. They hold nothing back – nothing!

I sat and listened to a young girl confess to drug addiction and prostitution. She had learned both from her mother. She hated and mistrusted men because her father physically and sexually abused her from the time she was six years old. She was not justifying her choices. She was not making excuses’. It was not however, “the path of least resistance” that carried her through such a tangled path of poor choices – it was pure survival.

She sat in tears confessing her defects and exposing her soul to a group of total strangers. She was by the world’s definition, crooked - but by no means was she bad.

It reminds me of another famous quote. A fellow named Jesus said this one as he was talking to a prostitute who had just been caught in the act of adultery.

Neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. "Go now and leave your life of sin." (John 8:11 NIV)

This one gives me hope too.

The Detox Porch

For the moment, how I got there is not important. It is enough for now to simply admit that I was there.

It was God’s way of putting me in “Time Out” - A twelve week “Time Out” to be exact.
My first day:

Lynetta kissed me good bye. We both cried, and then she drove away. It was the most alone I had ever been in my entire life. It was a loneliness that I could touch, taste, and smell. It made it hard for me to breath.

“Detox” is at first glance a musty old basement. It is filled with lost souls of every description. Most of which are not even aware of where they are. It was obvious that I didn’t belong there. I tried to tell them – but they wouldn’t listen.

First they took away my cell phone. Then they searched my luggage – every pocket, every sock, every pair of neatly folded underwear. I told them that I was an honest man, and that I had not hidden anything. It was about then that they made me undress and submit to a strip search. We had a communication problem. They thought that I was just like the other drug addicts and alcoholics. They treated me just like they treated the crack heads, and the meth mouth junkies – just like the guy hallucinating and slobbering all over himself in the corner. What was their problem!

They took me to my room. The room was dark, and musty. It appeared clean enough, but it reminded me of a cheap motel where they only wash the sheets once a week whether they need it or not. The mattress and the pillows were all cover with plastic. As a nurse, I knew exactly why they did that.

Other than my room the only other place that I was allowed to go was out to the “Detox Porch.” That, I learned quickly, was where every one went to smoke and listen to the seasoned veterans (anyone who had been in “Detox” for more than 2 days.) The veterans would tell stories of the craziest most messed up people they had seen come through so far. The stories somehow made the rest of us feel a little better. We could always say “well, at least I’m not that bad – yet”.

I avoided the “porch” for as long as I could. I tried hiding in my room, but the room always felt like it was on the verge of vomiting me out into the hall. I prayed a lot. I asked over and over again how God could allow me – of all people – to be stuck in a place like this.
It didn’t take long for God to answer.

Have you ever experienced “The Look”? You know, when a parent or your spouse looks at you with a stern glare. The one where if looks could kill, you’d be toast? Well, I didn’t actually see God’s “Look” – but I felt it. It was the “just who, do you think you are?” look. “Do you really think you are any better, smarter, or more deserving than any one of these people?” “How dare you!”

God spoke to me that night. Not in words that anyone could hear. But I got the message loud and clear. The message was this:

“Do you see these broken people on the “Detox Porch?” “They are my family.” “I love them all very dearly”. “Go out and meet them.” “You will love them too.”
It was at that moment that I surrendered. I did belong. I deserved to be there. I really was just like every one else.

I went and sat right between the worst looking two on the porch. The smoke was choking me, but I really didn’t care. They were absolutely wonderful people. They were real people. They were open and honest. What you saw was what you got. I learned later that there were millionaires and homeless folks on that porch that night - people with everything – and people with nothing.

There we were all children of God - and nothing else mattered.

Lord, Help me to never forget – That nothing else ever matters.

Life Happens

Hi !
How have you been?
Do you Remember me?
It has been a while.... (November 2008 to be exact)

A lot has happened since we last spoke.
It is a long story. If you have a minute I would like to share it with you - a little at a time - One day at a time

Allow me to begin by introducing myself again. I am probably not the same person that you remember. As a matter of fact, I am not the same person at all....

My name is Gary. I'm an alcoholic and an addict.
I am out of work, broke, in debt, and out of shape - and I couldn't be happier!

My story is one of surrender and acceptance. But, mostly it's a story of second chances, forgiveness, and God's amazing grace.

So, if your bored, and you have a minute or two, grab a cup of coffee and join me.
I will post as often as I can until the story is told. It is not a very pretty story, but it is all true.

Thanks.

Moving On

It seemed like such a good idea at the time.

It's been very therapeutic for me. It has helped me to think through and sort out some very complicated issues and feelings in my life. It has introduced me to some great people, many whom I may never had the opportunity to talk with. But, like many things in life it has run it's course - and it is time to move on.

My goal is to be better, to do better, and to love more.
So, for now at least, I am determined to live more and write less.

I hope that you have found something thought provoking and interesting on this blog over the past two years. Your comments and encouragment have truely been a blessing to me.


Psalms 20:4-5 May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed
We will shout for joy when you are victorious and will lift up our banners in the name of our God. May the Lord grant all your requests.


I will leave the site up for a while and check in from time to time.