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The Addict Still Has a Responsibility

Mötley Crüe and Sixx AM bassist Nikki Sixx has always been a hero of mine, largely because of the raw honesty he displays when writing about his addictions. Yesterday on his radio show, he discussed the death of actor Philip Seymour Hoffman.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/7CHHoDDTJdU

The hardest thing for Sixx to swallow is that Hoffman was clean and sober for more than 20 years before he relapsed. Sixx has been sober since 2001. Before that, he had slipped on drugs several times after having been clean for a few years.

I’m sure it also wasn’t easy to hear that Hoffman died with a needle still in his arm. Sixx was fortunate enough to wake up with the needle in his arm in 1987, when he finally decided he couldn’t take it anymore.

Indeed, Hoffman’s death has generated a lot of discussion. Yesterday I wrote about how addiction was a disease that many people don’t understand.

Yet I don’t believe addicts should be blithely excused for every failure because they have this monkey on their back.

Actions have consequences. Hoffman leaves behind three kids who needed him and an army of people who were heavily invested in him. People have a right to be angry about that.

Sometimes we’re so beaten down that we’re no longer in our right mind. That’s when we make sorry, costly choices. And as anyone who has cleaned up after addiction knows, the only right path is the one where personal responsibility is everything.

Addicts shouldn’t get a free pass. It’s quite the opposite, really. If you can’t be real with yourself about your demons, you’re doomed to make bad choices, including the deadly ones. 

But as I said yesterday, we also need to understand that this is a battle. No matter how strong you are, it only takes a second to let your guard down. That’s when the fatal bullet hits you between the eyes.

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Philip Seymour Hoffman’s Disease of Choice

Some say actor-director Philip Seymour Hoffman doesn’t deserve sympathy. He didn’t have cancer or other diseases people get without choice. He died because he chose to shoot up.

It’s the kind of statement you get from folks who have been fortunate not to have suffered from addiction. They may know people who are afflicted, but because they can’t identify with the sufferer, they delve into misconceptions.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/fi2XCsPKlY8

Hoffman was found dead over the weekend from an apparent overdose. News reports say the heroin needle was still in his arm. One friend on Facebook reacted with this comment:

I’m a little torn between saying Philip Seymour Hoffman was a really great actor and that I have zero sympathy for someone who overdoses.

I added my two cents, saying he had a disease and lost the fight. (He had sought help in the past, including rehab, to no avail.) To that, someone else responded:

Sorry, but while addiction may be euphemistically framed as a “disease” it starts with a choice and ultimately ends with one. If only every other disease were so convenient. I’m guessing we’d see a lot less childhood leukemia, multiple sclerosis, diabetes… etc.

It’s true: Addiction is not a disease the way those other maladies are. Childhood cancers and MS are certainly not things you can blame the patient for getting. At the other end of the spectrum are true diseases that are indeed the result of bad choices. Eat too much, exercise too little and smoke, and you risk getting any number of diseases.

Then there’s addiction.

Having suffered from it over the years, I see it the way I see depression and anxiety: mental illnesses that are affected by good and bad choices but not the direct result of carelessness. It often starts with a bad choice: The choice to try a line of coke or an injection of heroin. Sometimes the circumstances are more muddled. My binge eating addiction  is complicated by the fact that we need food to survive. The interplay between food, Crohn’s Disease and a prescription drug called Prednisone slowly corrupted my approach to food to the point where having it become an obsession. Obsession is often the path to addiction.

Once you become addicted to something, the urge to get a fix stops feeling like a choice. It becomes a matter of life and death — real or imagined. It controls you and laughs at your feeble attempts to resist. That’s the nature of the demon that killed Hoffman. It wasn’t about being smart or stupid.

I liken the reaction people have to his death to that of a suicide victim. When news of a suicide spreads, the reaction usually goes something like this: “How could he be so stupid? He had everything to live for.”

Statements like that come from people who have no idea how depression works. Statements that Hoffman was an idiot for sticking a needle in his arm come from people who have no clue about how addiction takes over a person and controls their every move.

To those who can make the right choices and escape addiction: Good for you. I wouldn’t wish addiction on my worst enemy. It hurts. It’s demeaning. It’s a thief.

I’m not going to tell you not to judge. Who am I to tell you what to do?

I will suggest that on the subject of this latest tragedy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.

Sometimes, ignorance is a choice, too.

Philip Seymour Hoffman

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Find Yourself a Real Doctor

Written in June, 2010.

Here’s the thing: Asking me for medical advice is like asking Charles Manson how to be a pacifist.

Mood music:

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In the months since I started this blog, I’ve noticed something expected but weird nonetheless:

People are coming to me for medical advice.

Several people who saw my post on living with Crohn’s Disease sent me their phone numbers and asked me to call them. I always do, and the person at the other end will start listing a bunch of issues they’re having and asking me what I think.

In one of my posts about the binge eating addiction I mentioned that at the deepest depths of the addiction I would get chest pains and wake up in the middle of the night puking up stomach acid. Someone wanted to talk about how that’s been happening to them.

Then there’s the OCD itself. People will approach me in droves about their issues and how they think they might have OCD or some other mental disorder.

To be clear, I’m not putting down those who have come to me with this stuff. I respect them all and am glad they feel they can talk to me. Sometimes talking about your problems in and of itself is a huge step on the road to dealing with it. I’m more than happy to help. Heck, that’s one of the reasons I started this blog.

But before we go any further, I just want everyone to remember that I’m not a doctor and no two sufferers are the same.

I’m the last person you want to go to for a medical advice. That would be like going to Charles Manson for a better understanding of law and order.

It’s natural to ask someone who has been through something you think you might have for advice before seeking out a doctor. I’ve done it many times myself. The thought of seeing a doctor and going for a bunch of tests is scary.

But it’s necessary.

Had I not found the right doctors along the way, I’d be in bad shape today, maybe even dead (mentally dead, anyway).

All I have to offer is my personal experiences. I can tell you where I’ve been, what I’ve learned from the experience and how I got to the generally good health I enjoy today. But none of what I tell you will be rooted in medical certainty. There are people out there who have been through very similar experiences as mine. But everyone’s outcome is a bit different, especially when it comes to the treatment methods that work for the individual.

My solution to the binge-eating disorder was Overeaters Anonymous, a rigid food plan devoid of flour and sugar and a 12-step program. The combination has been a life saver for me, but probably wouldn’t work for a lot of other people.

One of my many tools for managing OCD is the drug Prozac. But the same drug will do nothing for the next guy and might even make matters worse.

This is tricky stuff.

And for that, you need a real doctor.

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Treat Red Bull Like Alcohol and Cigarettes

I’m an avid consumer of sugar-free Red Bull and have been known to down more than one can a day. I see it as one of the only vices I have left after quitting booze, flour and sugar a few years back. So when I saw online protests about the government looking to regulate the sale of such energy drinks, I balked.

Mood music:

I was originally going to write a post blasting government for trying to control us yet again. Then I read about ER visits skyrocketing and children dying. According to ABC News:

Fourteen-year-old Anais Fournier of Hagerstown died in December of 2011 after drinking two 24-ounce Monster Energy drinks. Her family is suing that company. Fournier had a heart condition — her family’s attorney, Kevin Goldberg, tells ABC-2 News one problem is that many children are too young to have ever gotten that diagnosis.  And consuming highly-caffeinated beverages is like pouring gasoline on a fire they don’t even know is there. The US Department of Health and Human Services found that in 2007, there were about 10,000 emergency room visits related to energy drinks.  By 2010 that number doubled to 20,000.

As a confessed addict, I know it’s ultimately my choice whether to consume the stuff that drives me to madness. My addictive behavior has historically centered around binge eating. I started using wine as a crutch when I decided to bring the binge eating to heel. More than a year after quitting booze, I started smoking again to keep from taking a drink. And so the vicious cycle goes.

Today I cling to my caffeine and e-cigs. Not what one would call a solution, but I consider these the lesser evils of addiction.

The government can regulate food and drink all it wants. If you’re an addict hell-bent on getting your fix, you will find a way. That belief has driven much of what I’ve written about past efforts at regulation. But I’ve come to realize the bit about energy drinks is different.

Red Bull, Monster, Rock Star and other drinks are sold out in the open in any convenience store, right next to the Gatorade and Pepsi. There’s no age restriction on making the purchase that I know of. Energy drinks come in cans with cool, sleek artwork and color schemes, which attracts kids as a red cloth would attract a raging bull. That’s how you get deaths like that of Anais Fournier.

The government would be going way overboard if it decided to ban these drinks outright. But there are simple measures I think would be fair. For example:

  • Put the energy drinks in the same refrigerated cases and sections as the alcoholic products.
  • Sell them behind the counter, just like the tobacco products.

Those moves wouldn’t cut off my access to Red Bull. But it would control access to children, and I’m fine with that.

Red Bull

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Coffee Withdrawal as a Mental Illness

Get this: The latest version of the American Psychiatric Association’s (APA’s) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5), has added caffeine withdrawal to the list of mental illnesses.

Ridiculous, you say? I did at first. But on further reflection, it makes sense.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/p5em6PisRyk

Those who know me are well aware of my ability to consume large amounts of caffeine. I drink coffee all morning and, when possible, I switch to Red Bull in the afternoon. I know it’s an addiction, but I gave up just about everything else, so I cling to it unapologetically.

But I have quit it at various times in the past, and I remember what the first few days were like. The headaches. The fatigue. The depression. Yes, I did feel depression.

It makes perfect sense. Consider that when you suffer mental pain, it usually becomes physical pain, and vice versa. If you’re deprived of a substance you’re addicted to, you will fall into a depression. I was depressed as hell when I first gave up flour and sugar, and the real cigarettes I eventually replaced with e-cigs. With that in mind, the APA’s move makes perfect sense.

But I do feel the need to throw cold water on the idea that the sufferer should be treated like a victim. A lot of articles about this topic drop lines like “It’s not your fault.” The thing is, it is your fault.

True, I wasn’t necessarily in my right mind when I chose to binge eat and get tanked on bottles of wine. I certainly wasn’t in a healthy mental place when I sought comfort in cigarette smoke. But each time, I had a choice: I could do it or not. I gave in to weakness each time, and when I gave up the other things and suffered withdrawal, it was indeed my own damn fault.

That’s fine by me, since these experiences make us human and, ideally, we come out stronger and in better control of our actions. But let’s see this for what it is: mental illness triggered by one’s inability to control the intake of addictive substances. A self-inflicted wound.

From there, the APA’s move could lead us to some useful action items for dealing with the withdrawal.

Coffee

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Return From the Overeaters Anonymous Wilderness

Last summer I wrote a post about being lost in the Overeaters Anonymous wilderness, filled with discontent and a fair amount of self-righteousness. I have no regrets. We all need to step back from time to time and reevaluate pieces of our lives. Now that I’ve done that, I’ve decided to return from the wilderness.

Mood music:

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I’ve made peace with what I see as the program’s imperfections, and I’ve gained the wisdom to understand that it’s not about the egos who show up and periodically annoy me (as I’m sure I’ve annoyed others). It’s not all about simply abstaining from binging, either, though controlling the food is certainly of vital importance.

The biggest reason I’ve returned is that I need the 12 steps of recovery to help me keep my head screwed on properly. A couple of weeks ago, I got a new sponsor. Yesterday, I attended my first OA meeting in a long time.

Related content: Resources for those with eating disorders

I’ve mostly stuck with the food plan a previous sponsor helped me carve out when I first decided to tackle this monster in 2008, but it’s becoming clear that the plan needs some major adjustments. To fix that, I’m going to see a nutritionist.

In recent weeks I’ve felt adrift, more inclined to enter a stupor over things I can’t control. I forgot that I have to put my trust in God.

Break time is over.

Overeaters Anonymous Medallions

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Mindy McCready and the ‘Celebrity Rehab’ Curse

CNN doesn’t say so directly, but in its follow-up coverage of country singer Mindy McCready’s death, it suggests that those who appear on Celebrity Rehab are cursed.

Mood music:

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The report notes that McCready is the fifth Celebrity Rehab alum to die in the last two years. She follows former Alice In Chains bassist Mike Starr, Real World cast member Joey Kovar, Grease actor Jeff Conaway and Rodney King, who had been beaten by police in 1991, to the grave. McCready’s death is especially horrific. The mother of two shot herself to death on the front porch, the same spot David Wilson, her boyfriend and father of her children, committed suicide a month ago.

Many people watch Celebrity Rehab to laugh over the wreckage of celebrity lives. We see these people at rock bottom, slaves to their addictions. Their money has run out, their careers have crashed and burned and they can’t stop from embarrassing themselves in public.

When we laugh at the spectacle, it’s usually over the relief that it’s not us on the TV. Some viewers have sympathy, while others make heartless, tasteless jokes about how the mighty have fallen.

Some people have suggested that the show’s host, Dr. Drew Pinsky, is presiding over a Hollywood circus, showing off the freaks to an eager public, so to speak. But that’s not how I see it.

Pinsky has seen a lot of his famous friends die at the hands of addiction and the underlying mental illness, and his stated goal is to show people just how terrible a disease this is. He told CNN:

One of my hopes was, in bringing ‘Celebrity Rehab’ out, was to teach people how dangerous addiction was. … If I was doing a show on cancer, there would not be much surprise when my cancer patient died. In fact, we’d celebrate a few years of good quality life. People don’t understand that addiction has virtually the same prognosis. If you have other mental health issues on top of that, it’s so much worse. …

There’s a cautionary tale here about the stigma of mental illness and the way in which the public attack celebrities who take care of themselves. … [McCready] became so fearful of the stigma and the way people were responding to her being hospitalized that she actually checked herself out prematurely. … She is a lovely woman, we have lost her, and it didn’t have to go down like this.

Having followed Pinsky’s work over the years, I think his efforts are sincere and useful.

We see celebrities crashing and burning on TV, but countless people from all walks of life suffer these horrors every minute of every day. We can’t help them unless we know the behaviors to look for. Pinsky and the people who have been on his show have given us quite an education.

I hope we don’t waste it on mere gawking.

Dr. Drew and Mindy McCready

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The Shame a Binge Eater Feels

As a recovering binge eater, I don’t necessarily see my own habits reflected in a recently released University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB) study about the weird concoctions food addicts ingest. But I relate to the emotions study participants describes all too well.

Mood music:

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The study says food concocting — making strange food mixtures like mashed potatoes and Oreo cookies; frozen vegetables mixed with mayonnaise; and chips with lemon, pork rinds, Italian dressing and salt — is common among binge eaters. The full study was published in the International Journal of Eating Disorders, but here’s an excerpt from the UAB site:

According to the study, people who concoct are more likely to binge eat than those who overeat without bingeing. Those who concoct reported the same emotions as drug users during the act; they also reported later feelings of shame and disgust, which could fuel an existing disorder.

Mary Boggiano, Ph.D., associate professor in the Department of Psychology and primary investigator of the study, said study participants self-reported their emotions while concocting. The answers revealed a vast majority felt “excited” and “anxious” during the process.

“While they are food concocting and binge eating they report being excited, in a frenzy, and high, but afterwards they feel awful about themselves,” said Boggiano.

I never thought of the junk I craved as weird concoctions, but I also never made the kind of mixtures described in the study. I went for the traditional junk, the sweet stuff. I’d go in a gas station and buy a mix of Hostess cake products and a variety of candy, particularly Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and Twix. In the same binge, I’d go for the salty stuff, including chips and fast food.

I always considered those choices normal. In hindsight, I guess eating all those things in one sitting fit the concocting mold. In fact, some of the mixtures described in the UAB report sound healthier than what I would consume.

One thing is for certain: The excitement and shame study participants described fit me perfectly. There was always a certain thrill in hunting down and obtaining my fix. I’d feel a short period of intoxication during the act of eating. Then it would all be followed by intense, even debilitating feelings of shame.

Not because I ate a massive quantity of weird shit, but because I had thoroughly lost control of my mind and actions. I let an invisible demon possess my mind and body, too weak to do anything to stop it.

Read more about what the process is like in “Anatomy of a Binge.”

I eventually did gather up the strength to stop binging. Doing Overeater’s Anonymous and treating the behavior like the addictive impulse it is helped a lot. Giving up flour and sugar and measuring all my food has also helped.

But a recovering binge eater is always one bite away from being reclaimed by the demon, and I’ve had my share of close calls in the last four years.

All you can do is fight it one day at a time.
food-concocting_s

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Hostess Was My Main Dope Supplier

A lot of people are sad this morning because Hostess, maker of Twinkies, Ding Dongs and Wonder Bread, is going out of business after striking workers failed to heed a Thursday deadline to return to work. That’s the company’s official line, anyway.

Mood music:

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Me? I feel badly that 18,500 workers are getting laid off, though I suspect some other company will swoop in and buy Hostess for a song. The world needs its cream filling, after all.

But part of me would be glad to see the company go for a simple reason: As a compulsive binge eater who once ballooned up to 280-plus pounds because of the addiction, Hostess cakes were essentially my crack cocaine. I’d go into gas stations and buy up most of their Twinkies and both the chocolate and yellow cupcakes.

By going out of business, Hostess gives me one less thing to worry about going forward. No Hostess, no binge food.

Of course, it’s not that simple.

I’d simply binge on something else if it came to that. And McDonald’s was always number 1 in my binge book anyway.

Still, I think I can now relate to the feeling heroin and coke addicts got every time a drug lab got blown up during the ill-fated war on drugs. I can picture some junkies worrying about their supply drying up and going on a stockpiling craze.

That’s surely going to be the case with Hostess addicts. Expect a run on all their products at your local grocery store.

The good news is that with all the preservatives in those things, the supply you manage to hoard will never go bad.

Twinkies

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Time for Tea

This is going to shock a lot of you, given the steady flow of coffee you’ve watched me drink day after day, but try to stay calm.

I’m drinking tea, and lots of it.

Mood music:

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This change wasn’t planned. No doctor told me to do it or risk a heart attack. And I haven’t given up my beloved java.

In recent days, I’ve started splitting the day between coffee and tea: coffee in the morning, tea in the afternoon and evening.

For whatever reason, I really started to crave tea Saturday afternoon. It could be because my mindfulness teacher keeps telling the class to “have tea with your problems” or “tea with your dragon.” When you have an addictive personality like mine, the more someone repeats something like that, the more you start to want it. It’s why I can’t hang out with people who want to talk about nothing but boozing. Before long, I start jonesing for a bottle.

I got home that afternoon and had some green tea. Later, I had some chamomile. It felt good. I felt more at ease. A new afternoon-evening habit was born.

Those who know me well know how much I love caffeine. Coffee is the main delivery system, along with Red Bull, though I haven’t had the latter for a couple weeks now. I simply haven’t felt like having it.

There’s a stupid part of me that sometimes resists change because I’ve spent so much time building up an image. Admittedly, I like the sober, bitter-coffee-swilling hardcore image I’ve built for myself. But the smarter part of me knows that it’s always best to try new things and expand one’s horizons. That’s why I started playing guitar again after nearly 20 years. Playing is quickly becoming my main addiction and I’m fine with that, because it means I’m not burying my face behind the laptop screen as much as I used to. I discovered Saturday that tea goes really good with guitar playing.

So here I am, drinking tea and coffee. Turns out, there’s plenty of room in the day for both.

Just as long as the writer doesn’t drink all the editor’s tea. —The Editor

Green Tea