Posted on

How Many Times Should a Man Say He’s Sorry? (Inspired By Kevin Mitnick)

Yesterday I wrote a post over at my information security blog about famed hacker Kevin Mitnick and how he is conducting himself in the limelight. Is he redeeming himself after a life of crime?

That’s the point a lot of people seem to be debating. Should a man or woman who has made mistakes in life apologize in every interview, at every conference, behind every closed door?

I’m reminded of that scene in “Raiders of the Lost Ark” where Indiana Jones tells Marion Ravenwood that he can only say he’s sorry so many times. “Well say it again anyway!” she says as she slams down a tray full of shot glasses. In the same scene, she notes that everyone’s sorry for something.

We are. I’m sorry I wasted so many years hiding in my room because of fear and anxiety. I’m sorry I nearly destroyed what was left of my health with countless binges. I’m sorry I wasn’t there more when my best friend was headed toward suicide. I’m sorry I can’t get along with my mother.

We’re all sorry for something.

But when do you reach the point where you need to make your amends and get on with life? I have my half-baked theories.

In Mitnick’s case, he did his crimes and served his time. He has used his hacking skills for good in recent years. I know many people in the security community who consider him a friend.

I don’t think he needs to say he’s sorry anymore. Using his skills for the greater good is good enough to me. And as for his conduct in promoting his book, “Ghost in the Wires,” I don’t mind. If you write something, your goal is to have as many people read it as possible. I can be shameless in proliferating this blog, but I don’t apologize. I don’t write it so it’ll sit there on the Internet being read by five people a year. You can’t be useful to people if they don’t know you’re there.

Writing this thing is partly my way of paying it forward. It’s a lot more useful than repeatedly telling everyone I’m sorry for the way I used to be. After awhile, the apologies ring hollow unless they’re backed by real change.

When you change, apologies become less necessary.

If you have to keep apologizing, then you probably still have some behaviors to change.

That’s what I’ve learned about myself, at least.

OCD Diaries

Posted on

Cold Turkey Has Got Me On The Run

More than a week after I quit smoking cold turkey, I’m pissed off.

It pisses me off that other people can enjoy a drink or two, the occasional cigar or feast without letting it take over everything else in their lives.

Mood music from the debut EP of Pull Trouble From The Fire:

[soundcloud url=”http://soundcloud.com/pulltroublefromthefire/06-dead-wait”]

It pisses me off that I have to learn to behave and pretend I don’t wish I had some of what everyone around me has.

It pisses me off that I have to keep explaining to people why I can’t eat flour or sugar — ever — why I can’t have a glass of wine or a beer — ever — and why I can’t just have a cigar on the weekends and be done with it.

When I wrote about the smoking last week, a friend asked me the following question, with a comment mixed in:

“Just out of curiousity, how many cigars do you smoke? One or more/day? Do you opt for a toro (6 or 7? cigar) or a robusto? If you’re having a robusto a couple times each week (or even a toro every day), isn’t that moderation?

“While I’ve never tried them, I’ve seen how cigarettes can pull you in and you can go from one cig to a pack/day in a short time. Not that I’m condoning it, but I think an occasional cigar is like a good scotch. It a treat more than a habit.

“I’ve found that you need to pick the vices your going to ween off carefully, or it will be at everyone’s peril. Wouldn’t it be better to set boundaries so you can enjoy a vice while preventing overindulgence? Doesn’t forced moderation ultimately help strengthen the psyche (I don’t know, just asking)?

“I guess what I’m asking is whether you’re being too hard on yourself at the expense of others? As you say, you can’t do anything in moderation, but it seems you may not be able to implement a fix in moderation either. Kick the cigs. Save the cigars. Don’t be a miserable bastard!”

It’s a fair question, and he’s right that a person who is cold turkey will make others miserable. That’s why people like us are at our nastiest as human beings after we first clean up.

He is wrong when he asks: “Doesn’t forced moderation ultimately help strengthen the psyche?”

I can see where he’s going with this. Even in sobriety people like me live to an extreme. But in our world, moderation doesn’t exist.

That’s the core problem of our disease: The part of the brain that regulates moderate behavior was obliterated somewhere along the way. Therefore, it has to be all or nothing.

In the AA Big Book on which the 12 Steps of Recovery is built, the opening chapter is called “The Doctor’s Opinion.” In it, Dr. William D. Silkworth outlines the physical defects of the disease and how it impacts our behavior. He literally describes it as an allergy. Once we take a drink or engage in a food binge, a demonic craving kicks in that shuts off the sanity switches in our heads.

“We believe, and so suggested a few years ago, that the action of alcohol on these chronic alcoholics is a manifestation of an allergy; that the phenomenon of craving is limited to this class and never occurs in the average temperate drinker. These allergic types can never safely use alcohol in any form at all; and once having formed the habit and found they cannot break it, once having lost their self-confidence, their reliance upon things human, their problems pile up on them and become astonishingly difficult to solve.

“Men and women drink essentially because they like the effect produced by alcohol. The sensation is so elusive that, while they admit it is injurious, they cannot after a time differentiate the true from the false. To them, their alcoholic life seems the only normal one. They are restless, irritable and discontented, unless they can again experience the sense of ease and comfort which comes at once by taking a few drinks—drinks which they see others taking with impunity. After they have succumbed to the desire again, as so many do, and the phenomenon of craving develops, they pass through the well-known stages of a spree, emerging remorseful, with a firm resolution not to drink again. This is repeated over and over, and unless this person can experience an entire psychic change there is very little hope of his recovery.”

The doctor uses alcohol as the example, but the same applies for all addictive behavior.

To those who think it’s weird when a man or woman can’t enjoy something in moderation, I get your skepticism. The problem — or the blessing in your case — is that your brain doesn’t work like mine. You have a gift a lot of us would kill for: The ability to realize when you’ve had enough of something.

My wife can buy a six-pack of beer and make it last two months. I wouldn’t be able to last two hours without downing it all. Then I would need more. The difference between us is one of brain chemistry.

Weening off the comfort substances was not an option for me for the simple reason that I have to have it all. Trying to have smaller amounts of something each day or week won’t work in that environment.

So I’ve had to go cold turkey.

It’s hell the first week. The second week, which is where I’m at, is one of more muted irritability.

From there, it gets easier, and we get better. Much better.

I’ll be glad when I get there after this latest round of cold turkey.

[soundcloud url=”http://soundcloud.com/pulltroublefromthefire/05-trainwrecks”]

OCD Diaries

Posted on

I Pet My Peeves Until They Become Triggers

I really hate all those pre-written, self-righteous Facebook posts. I told Erin I was going to write a post flaming all those stupid sayings.

Mood music:

“Tell me what that has to do with OCD?” she asked, giving me that stare she gives me when she’s certain that I’m full of shit.

“It’s a trigger,” I said, not really meaning it.

“It’s not a trigger. It’s a peeve. You going to go pet it now?” she asks, still giving me that stare.

She’s on to something, though.

Before I go further, let me share some of the Facebook blurbs that set me off this morning. Hold your nose and read on:

“I was RAISED, I didn’t just grow up. I was taught to speak when I enter a room, say Please & Thank you, to have Respect for my elders, lend a helping hand to those in need, hold the door for the person behind me, say Excuse me when it’s needed, & to Love people for who they are, not for what you can get from them! I was also taught to treat people the way I want to be treated! If you were raised this way too, please re-post this…sadly, many won’t, because they weren’t, and it shows~Thank you”

Then there’s this little chestnut:

I may not be the most beautiful girl or the sexiest girl nor do I have a perfect body. I might not be everyone’s first choice, but I’m a great choice. I do not pretend to be someone I’m not, because I’m good at being me. I might not be proud of some of the things in my past, but I’m proud of who I am today. So take me as I am, or watch me as I walk away! ? 

OK. I’m walking away now.

When people post this stuff, it’s like they’re telling the rest of us that we don’t respect our elders and don’t love the right people.

OK. I pet the peeve. On to Erin’s point.

I do sometimes obsess about peeves until they become OCD triggers. I think a lot of people do, but since this blog is about my own blemishes, it seemed like a good idea to put this one in the archives of insanity.

Have a nice day.

OCD Diaries

Posted on

Get well, Tottenkoph

Magen Hughes (@tottenkoph on Twitter), a friend from the security community, had some major surgery yesterday. This post is simply to remind folks to send her well wishes on the Twitters and such.

I won’t go into the details of what has been ailing her (you can read about it in her blog) but I have been inspired as hell by the positive attitude she has shown throughout the ordeal.

She sent regular updates on her emergency room visit that were full of good humor and she also made me laugh when she posted a picture of the pre-surgery cleaning solution she had to drink.

As someone who has been there, I’ve developed a dark sense of humor about such things.

Get well fast, my friend.

Posted on

I Need A Lot Of Gum. And Maybe A Gun

It’s been one week since I have smoked a cigarette or a cigar. The itch is gone but the crankiness is not.

Mood music:

I’m finding some relief in gum. But now I’m starting to think crazy thoughts about it. Behold:

I find myself wondering if there are websites that sell exotic types of gum. I’m sure there are, though I haven’t looked yet.

Beer-flavored gum?

Cigar-flavored gum?

Rum-flavored gum?

The crazy thinking goes something like this: If I can no longer have any of my vices, I can chew gum that at least tastes like all my vices.

But here’s what would happen:

–I’d become obsessed with stockpiling all the gum I could find. I would find a way to spend hundreds of dollars a pop.

–I would chew a flavor and eventually decide it’s just not as good as the real thing.

–I’d start obsessing about the real thing.

From there, the danger is obvious.

That’s how the mind of an addict works.

I’ll just have to stick with the garden-variety, minty fresh gum until I get past this.

OCD Diaries

Posted on

No Faith, No Recovery. Period

Some of my readers don’t like to talk about religion. It’s something where most of us simply can’t find common ground. But I often write about my Faith anyway, because it’s essential to my recovery. If some find it uncool, so be it.

Third in a series about the 12 Steps of Recovery and how they apply to me.

Step 2 – Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

This is where people get all confused about the 12 steps. They see Step 2 and think they’ve stumbled upon some bat-shit crazy religious cult. At best, people get the mistaken impression that this is some fringe religious denomination or cult.

That’s how I felt the first time I walked into an Overeater’s Anonymous meeting. And I’ve always believed in God.

In reality, Step 2 is simply about realizing you can’t kill your demons without help from a higher power. Maybe that higher power is rooted in Buddhism. Or that higher power could be rooted in Wiccan beliefs. It’s literally a higher power as you understand him-her-it to be.

For me, the higher power is Jesus.

It’s not hard for me to write about OCD, binge eating and pills. These are a part of life for people across political and religious divides. Depression and anxiety will hit you whether you’re Catholic, Baptist or agnostic.

But I walk a delicate path between friends and family who are all over the map when it comes to Faith. So I wasn’t going to touch it in this blog.

Eventually, I realized I had no choice. To write about my experiences with OCD and addiction without mentioning my Faith is impossible. It’s too much a part of who I am and how I got here.

In April 2006 I was Baptized a Catholic after going through the RCIA program. This, after more than a decade in the religious wilderness. I was born into a Jewish family but we observed it in a mostly secular manner. By the time I reached my 20s, there was nothing keeping me there.

My first taste of the Catholic Faith was when I met my wife. She grew up going to church every Sunday and going to the same parochial school our boys go to today.

Erin never forced her faith on me, and our marriage certainly wasn’t built on the condition that I convert. I slowly inched toward my Faith over time, and my battle with OCD marked a turning point.

Among my friends and family are people who don’t believe in God and don’t want to hear others talk about it. Then there are those who believe in a higher power but are too angry over perceived wrongdoings in the Church. A lot of that anger is justified, especially when observed through the prism of the Priest Sex Abuse Scandal and atrocities that have happened in God’s name at the hands of misguided people over the centuries.

To the right are those who follow their Faith with a sometimes blinding passion. Bring up things about the organized church you disagree with and they’ll shut the conversation down with a few terse words. On this side of the court, to disagree with what the Pope or Bishops say is to be a fake Catholic or worse.

My misgivings, mainly the intolerance that often abounds in the church, are summed up pretty nicely by this West Wing clip, when President Bartlet, a devout Catholic, rips apart a TV pundit who claims to be an authority on the Word of God:

I also get a big kick out of movies that lampoon religion when it’s handled well. A special favorite is this one:

http://youtu.be/HE7tTT8khf0

But all that aside, I believe in the central teachings of the Catholic Faith — that through the death and resurrection of Jesus, sinful humans can be reconciled to God and be offered salvation and the promise of eternal life.  (Wikipedia’s definition, but it’s essentially what I believe).

A big part of my conversion involved my battle with OCD. Part of the mental disorder involved relentless self criticism and loathing. Self-hatred is not too strong a description. I was so convinced that I was flawed beyond repair that I simply plowed along with my self-destructive behavior. I couldn’t get out of my own way.

Catholic conversion entered the picture because, as I was peeling back layer after layer in the struggle to find myself, I found that I simply couldn’t get there without help from a higher power.

I could have been drawn to one of the Protestant denominations or something like Unitarianism. But for me, the Catholic Faith resonated above all others. As I studied the Faith and applied it to my own history, I started to understand that I was not sinful beyond hope. I learned that it’s never too late for any of us, and so I found the strength to move forward and get better. It’s a journey that will continue to my dying breath.

I cherish Mass each week, along with all the Sacraments. My favorite is the Sacrament of Reconciliation — Confession. By spilling out the junk on a regular basis, I feel lighter, less burdened and able to deal with the lingering byproducts of my condition.

The community aspect has also been a tremendous source of strength. I’ve made some dear friends along the way, some of whom don’t share my skepticism of the Church as a governing entity. But we’re able to put those things aside. After all, we’re in full agreement on the central aspect of the Faith.

This is how my faith in a higher power evolved.

It’s not for everyone, but it IS for me, and that’s all that matters.

Without this element in my life, recovery from addiction and mental illness would simply not be possible for me.

Posted on

Everyone Has Opinions. Everyone Has Research. Does Anyone Have THE Answer?

Readers have been sending me all kinds of articles lately about where addiction and mental illness come from and how best to recover. It’s useful and appreciated. But there’s a missing piece. A big missing piece.

Mood music:

Here’s the thing about addicts: We know all the things you’re supposed to do to get well. We know full well what is good for us and what is bad.

And when the itch takes over our brain, all that stuff doesn’t matter. We want the thing that’ll make us comfortable. In that mode, we avoid all the good stuff at all costs.

Yoga is fantastic for you and helps you learn to live in the moment. But when my head is in that other zone, there’s just no way I’m going to try it. A big fat cigar is what I REALLY want. (I just quit tobacco, which is why I’m prickly as I write this).

Fruit and veggies are terrific for you. But when the binge eater wants to binge, only the bad stuff will do. Forty dollars of McDonalds. That’s what I go for.

These are the things people just don’t understand when they try to help people like us with advice. When the addictive impulse strikes, the overriding craving is for something that’s very bad for us. Sure, gluten is bad for you. But if my binge-eating compulsion were active and I had gluten intolerance, I’d swallow all of it anyway.

Because I want that momentary feeling of rapture more than anything, regardless of the pain I know will come minutes and hours later.

That, my friends, is what escapes you when you’re trying to help me.

Now, let’s stop here for a reality check: I AM NOT going on a binge right now. I’ve been clean of that for more than two years now. Fundamentally, I am doing well. I’m going to my 12-Step meetings. I’m writing. True, I am edgy right now because I quit smoking cold turkey Friday night. But that will pass. I’m holding steady on that front, despite the constant twitching.

But I am feeling vulnerable. My disease is doing push ups in the parking lot and it’s just dying to kick my ass.

I’ve written much about how my addictive behavior is a byproduct of mental illness (OCD). But addiction itself IS the mental illness. My friend Alan Shimel sent me an article from the AP that states the case pretty well:

Addiction isn’t just about willpower. It’s a chronic brain disease, says a new definition aimed at helping families and their doctors better understand the challenges of treating it.

“Addiction is about a lot more than people behaving badly,” says Dr. Michael M. Miller of the American Society for Addiction Medicine.

That’s true whether it involves drugs and alcohol or gambling and compulsive eating, the doctors group said Monday. And like other chronic conditions such as heart disease or diabetes, treating addiction and preventing relapse is a long-term endeavor, the specialists concluded.

Addiction generally is described by its behavioral symptoms — the highs, the cravings, and the things people will do to achieve one and avoid the other. The new definition doesn’t disagree with the standard guide for diagnosis based on those symptoms.

But two decades of neuroscience have uncovered how addiction hijacks different parts of the brain, to explain what prompts those behaviors and why they can be so hard to overcome. The society’s policy statement, published on its website, isn’t a new direction as much as part of an effort to translate those findings to primary care doctors and the general public.

“The behavioral problem is a result of brain dysfunction,” agrees Dr. Nora Volkow, director of the National Institute on Drug Abuse.

That’s some very enlightening stuff, and it will be helpful to people going forward. But THE answer to the problem will remain elusive.

I get a lot of dietary advice lately. People read about how I don’t eat flour or sugar as part of my recovery from binge eating. And that leads to questions like this: “Have you tried a gluten-free diet?”

It’s a fair question, and the person who asked about it just wants me to be well. I suppose a diet devoid of flour and sugar is gluten free. Mostly gluten free, anyway.

But in the end, the gluten itself was not my problem. The problem was my overwhelming instinct to eat all the gluten.

The problem is about control. I have none. The sensor in the brain that tells people when they’ve had enough doesn’t work in my head. It broke long ago. So I need a set of coping tools and the 12 Steps to keep my head in the game.

That’s not THE answer, either. But it helps a lot.

Thanks for sending me the articles, friends. I might balk at some of the information, but I appreciate the spirit in which it’s delivered.

OCD Diaries

Posted on

I Have Coffee, Rock & Roll, Gum and This Keyboard. Don’t Mess With Me

Day five without tobacco is upon me, and I’m doing OK. Uncomfortable, yes. But OK.

I have other crutches to keep me tobacco free AND free of binge eating:

–I have strong coffee.

–I have all the Rock & Roll I want, and I’m keeping the music playing.

–I’m chewing a shitload of gum and my breath has probably never been so clean and fresh.

–And I have this keyboard. Writing ALWAYS helps.

But I’m still edgy. You’ve been warned.

OCD Diaries

Posted on

‘The Real Supermum’ blog worth a look

I’ve been quite taken with a blog called “The Real Supermum: Parenting Behind Closed Doors, The Good, The Bad & The Ugly.” Any parent will find it interesting.

It’s written by Emma White, mother of 6. She writes extensively about the ups and downs of parenting and, to make things even more interesting and challenging, the author suffers from bipolar disorder.  Have a look.

Posted on

I Started Twitching and Can’t Stop

I have a major case of OCD Fidget Syndrome today. It started with an 8 a.m. meeting in work and seems to have gotten worse as the morning has dragged on.

In the meeting I noticed I kept swiveling my chair back and forth and changing positions. I kept tugging at my clothes. I must have gotten pretty slick about it, because people didn’t seem to notice.

Then we had a small editorial meeting and the itch started to feel more intense. Doodling on a piece of paper as we discussed business kept me from flailing wildly.

It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out what my problem is. Quitting smoking cold turkey Friday night is having the expected effect. It’s all I can do not to smoke. From there, the urge to binge eat is high.

I’m not going to do either of those things, though. I’m strong enough and I know I’ll feel better in a few days.

The key for now is to chew lots of gum so my sharp tongue doesn’t fly out of my mouth and slash whoever is unfortunate enough to get under my skin.

This afternoon I’m doing a site visit with some old friends in the security community. Wish them luck. 😉

OCD Diaries