Hi all. The reason you haven’t heard from me for a few weeks is because I finally had that surgery I’ve been waiting for. Cervical spine surgery, bone growing where it’s not supposed to, I’ll spare you the details.
But what I’ll tell you about is my revisiting the land of addiction. This happened to me a little over three years ago too. Then it was lumbar spine surgery. Jeesh. I hope they’ve covered the whole thing by now. At that time, I published a piece about getting into, then out of, opiates, in a popular magazine called Toronto Life.
Here’s the sequel.
The story line is pretty straightforward: pain — painkillers — surgery — more pain — more painkillers — struggle with self because opiates still feel like opiates to me: and do I or don’t I need them for one / two / three more weeks? — and then quitting. I’ve gotten very good at quitting. But haven’t we all?
Here are a few lines I wrote the other day when I was still pretty spacey and feeling the pseudomagical draw of the pills:
The old cravings come shooting up through cracks in the sidewalk like weeds growing too quickly via time-lapse photography, pulling you, your attention, your focus, the thing that you want to be moving toward, that picture frame waiting for its picture, the pull, the pull that hasn’t really been absent all morning, you just forgot to remember it for a few minutes, that pull toward….toward what? Toward nothing. That’s the irony, the stupidity of it. Especially on this dose, enough to soften the pain quite nicely, but you’d think there wouldn’t be enough rope to hang myself. I mean, would there? With the tolerance I’ve built up in the last few weeks, I’d have to take a lot more than the prescribed amount — and I have cheated some, scoping out the territory — to….to….get to….where was it I wanted to get to again? In which case, I wouldn’t have enough left to override the pain for a couple more days, until it was time for the refill. But it would be worth it because everything is worth getting that feeling again, now, this afternoon. You know: that feeling that…that you both can’t forget about and can’t think about. That, once you’ve got it in you, you have to keep telling yourself is special and different, even though the fact that you have to keep reminding yourself implies that maybe it’s not so special. And after a few days of this stuff, let’s face it, it’s not different at all. It’s boring.
These are the strange meanderings of an ex-addict touring the past in the present. What’s valuable about it is that I can see, with vivid clarity, that the addictive urge is a pull toward nothing. Just the same tired replay of an illusion I know so well. It feels now like it did then, but with the addition of perspective, a life, a whole different set of habits of thought and feeling, a meditative warmth that allows me to exist wherever I am. And all that really puts a different slant on things. But there’s still the urge, there’s still enough of a memory of something beyond just okay. There’s still this synaptic freeway, this massive roll-out of holiday traffic, lining up, frantically checking the time, in order to get to a playland that’s been closed for years. And then realizing that it was already closed when I used to go there, regularly, way back then, because even then, the brief fizzle of fun was like some sprinkler they forgot to disconnect at the entrance. There just wasn’t anything to do once you got through the gates.
Whether you want to call addiction a disease, a brain aneurism, a satanic possession, or whatever, the way things feel to me now, the same as before and yet so different, is the bedrock experiential proof that it’s a developmental process. Addiction and recovery that is. I’ve actually ceased seeing any value in talking about them as separate processes. It’s all development. Because, as with everything else that develops, you lay down habits — synaptic configurations — that don’t ever go away 
completely. Yet they change with time, the nature of “the reward” changes with time and so does the way you deal with it. The configuration continues to transform itself. As the Muppets so sagely captured it: That’s good enough for me.
I’m okay now. The cravings came, they’re still there sometimes, other times not. I’ll be off the drugs in another couple of weeks, after some pretty conscientious tapering. (Thanks, Doc) And the pain is going down day by day. I can sit. I can type. The sun is shining. There’s a lot to do.
Informed by unparalleled neuroscientific insight and written with his usual flare, Marc Lewis’s The Biology of Desire effectively refutes the medical view of addiction as a brain disease. A bracing and informative corrective to the muddle that now characterizes public and professional discourse on this topic.” —Gabor Maté, M.D., author of In The Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters With Addiction
It is the wonder of the plasticity of our brains that allows us to continue to refill and refine our perspectives until we feel right within ourselves. An when that happens wee can begin to feel at peace. I’m thrilled to see you on the other side Marc, Carolyn.
Thanks, Carolyn. Indeed we begin to feel at peace.
Good to hear you are on the mend my friend. It’s a real bummer how those sleeping rats inside our brains begin to awaken with the slightest opiate sniff. Sadly it’s really difficult to put them back to sleep and stop their antics. Keep on keeping on, sounds like you’re on top of it. If you need anything, talk, support, help, give me a call? Loving kindness heading your way.
P
You’d think those dense clouds of DDT would exterminate them for once and for all. But no, it’s more like cops and robbers. Good to know you’re there, Peter.
Wish you a speedy recovery!
Sorry to hear about your surgery, but thankful for this post! I’m glad someone is approaching the whole “recovery” thing with honesty. Are we ever “free” of the addictive tendencies? Sometimes they creep back in, and that’s okay. It seems completely natural to me. Of course I start to engage in addictive tendencies when I’m stressed or overwhelmed. However, I’m not ostensibly “out of control”, I just feel the tendencies start to creep in. I’m okay with accepting that tendency and being aware that it’s there. I think it also helps me have the awareness to stop.
Anyway, thanks again for your candor.
I’m very glad you see it this way. So do I. We are just epitomizing to some degree the struggles that every human goes through. And yes, by sharing our stories and being honest about how it feels, we bring our best to bear and make the best of the chaotic, irrational brain space that evolution both blessed and cursed us with.
What I first want to say is to wish you a speedy return to good health!
I think as a person with addiction in their past assimilating the use of substances some of a chemical/mood/synapsing/priming-automaticity altering quality is part of this territory some choose to call recovery.
A life where this just doesn’t happen is I guess a life lived unprepared for “normality” to happen. I know for me once the territory which I choose currently to call healthier functioning and a choice for a more fulfilled sense of living and of being alive is made and known to be made then revisitation although a bit creepy even eerie is an empty place to visit.
But revisiting that old familiar place can feel like well “familiar” but what’s not is the “I” in relation to it as I think you seem to touch on. For me it’s as if the “Object” “Chemicals” ceased to have their regulating function and the Ego has somehow healed from its need to find a way to be “contained” with chemicals that extricably and undoubtedly leave their neural ghostly footprint.
I guess like all fairly new experiential interpretations, formulating these experiences into a concrete and comfortable lived “known” just takes time.
So Marc great post I love your take and your willingness to share this.
Love C
Thanks so much, C. The old recipe just don’t make the right kind of soup anymore. Maybe because the ingredients have changed, maybe because the paper the recipe is printed on is worn out and impossible to read. One way or another, we do change our diet, and I think it’s important to keep a record of that. If for no other reason, it gives hope to those who thought it would never change. Love, M.
I agree that after a certain amount of sober time, the experience does become not-so-special. It is boring— yet interesting in the same way it is interesting to observe a fascinatingly grotesque bug in a bell jar. You are looking at it from the outside in, a reframed perspective. And you can clearly see that it’s not necessary to watch all the reruns.
At a recent meeting, a woman* with under a year of sobriety confessed to having a slip. She then felt the crappy physical malaise that follows a slip. And then she felt the secondary upset of having sabotaged her own recovery. But instead of relapsing into despair, she dusted herself off and scolded her friends— who were complicit— when they again tried to ply her with drinks: “I’m an alcoholic; that’s why I said I don’t drink anymore”
“No you’re not,” her friends joked affectionately. But she stood her ground— a solid ground now, not quicksand. And at the end of the anecdote, she said confidently that she was glad that it happened, because it showed her in stark relief why she was in recovery. Like Bill Murray in “Groundhog Day” (or “Scrooged” for that matter) she was able to witness her own experience. She didn’t have to relive it anymore.
Be flexible, be resolute, and be kind to yourself: this is the core message that should be transmitted in recovery meetings. Not grousing and trying to tear down other approaches, or just marking sober time, or worrying about what other people think, or whining because your shoes are too tight.
Everything else is just a distraction.
*(details changed to protect confidentiality)
Feel better. As they say in the other recovery, it takes as long as it takes…
Thanks for all you do in this noble enterprise
Thanks for the comment, Matt. Really good wisdom to be shared with all. Notice that I put in a pitch for my theoretical orientation at the end? But your stuff speaks straight to the heart, and from the heart. That was the magical secret of AA, and now you’ve taken it on the road.
Yes I did see that. And I’m totally in accord. The relevant point I was trying to make (albeit inarticulately) is that because of your situation, you have been put in a position to test your sobriety buttress— your new neural pathways that can override the old. A place developmentally where you are able to witness and reflect on your previous experience, instead of being enveloped by it. It’s a gift, really. An opportunity to test your developmental mettle. A wisdom. And one I hope you’ll never have to go through again!
And thanks so much, Marc. This is the problem with having an “addict” mentality or personality or whatever it is. My mind goes straight for the worst case scenario. I thought that you thought that I was disagreeing with you. Go figure. Maybe I should consult my own developmental experience(with the blog), before I hit the send button next time:)
Hey my friend, this blog is stream of consciousness. You just say what comes to mind. You know, what I think is most amazing is to be on both sides of the line at exactly the same time. My mind goes straight to the middle of the road — ambivalence as a lifetime credo? But I get to see what it’s like to be an addict and to be in control simultaneously. Whole new worlds of perspective open up. I’m looking under the hood while the engine is ON.
So I’m not complaining, And I’m not worried. Like I said, I’m an expert when it comes to quitting.
Balance…the middle path…the view…just watch out for the fan belt!
Marc, “looking under the hood while engine is on” is dangerous, isn’t it? …. Wish you well.
Good point! But sometimes you have to do just that in your efforts to tune up or repair the engine.
Marc, that’s sort of how I was viewing it as well. I just don’t have the scientific insights you have to guide me.
Marc, this is incredibly timely for me. Six days ago I had elective surgery. During pre-op planning I told them “Don’t give me a script for painkillers, I can’t take them,” and I told them why, how in the past I got addicted to them and now I’m on Suboxone. Well, it’s been quite a week! My addiction doctor adjusted my Suboxone so I could take more of that per day, saying buprenorphine is a pain killer. And then they all glibly say, “Oh, Tylenol will help.” I’m not supposed to even take Motrin or other nsaids as they thin the blood and cause bleeding.
So, I’ve been living with pain (the increased bup doesn’t really do the trick). Several times I’ve thought, no way in hell I’d ever do this again. I’d rather go through the challenges of getting re-addicted than to live with unremitting pain. But then, on the other hand, I’ve thought well that’s no picnic either and at least once this is over I’ll be free and clear again.
So it was fascinating to read of your experience, Marc, and BTW, I wish you a full and speedy recovery, from everything. I love the point you make which is that despite the pull of the fantasy of the magical ride to euphoric heights of sublime comfort, what we’ve established over the years of (individual and relative) sobriety, is equally, if not more, valuable, exquisite, and worth pursuing and keeping.
If the time comes for me in which I will have no choice about whether or not to take the pain medicine, I feel more confident that I won’t just be giving myself to the devil, but rather will maintain control over my feelings and actions, something that has developed and grown more substantial over the years.
Thanks! Denise
My recovering son (opiates/benzos) needed knee surgery at ~ 1 year of recovery. He opted for an epidural, so he was awake during surgery, and no pain meds. It was a very difficult time and he pretty much didn’t sleep for 3 days, but he made a statement that echoes something I’ve said for years, “When you choose to face and endure real physical pain, you learn what you’re made of.”
Another acquaintance’s recovering son (heroin) tore his achilles at ~ 1 year recovery. Also opted for an epidural during surgery and chose to use the On-Q Nerve blocker for post-surgery instead of meds. The nerve block DID NOT WORK and he was in excruciating pain for several days. Achilles surgery is really a nightmare scenario. Don’t know how he did it, but he stuck it out. I don’t mean to sound high-handed, because I really do understand that some pain is unbearable, and that some relief during the toughest parts can help us heal faster, but I also know that we (and the medical system) do not give ourselves sufficient credit for being able to endure the “unendurable.”
Wishing the very best to you Denise, and to Marc.
Thanks for this, MB. Your son is right, facing severe and/or constant physical pain is a whole ‘nother experience. As in so many areas of life, there are no fixed answers, just hopefully an openness on the part of each of us to balancing the pros and cons of different courses of action with their respectively different consequences.
Nicely put.
Very true, Denise.
Thanks, MB. This was not a stage in my life in which I particularly wanted to test my endurance. Maybe that’s more of a young man’s project. But the whole high-wire act for me was done above a safety net. I get my meds from one source, my doctor, and he and I have had a tapering plan in place from day 1.
Denise, you had to have surgery too? Good heavens. We’re in another epidemic. Of physical reconstruction. It’s a double edged sword, isn’t it? Really bad pain vs. chance of readdiction/dependence? Hope you’re feeling a little better by now.
Marc –
I did not mean to imply you shouldn’t go med-free, although I realized at the time of posting it might seem that way (hence, the “high-handed” comment). Your surgery is/was invasive and very intense, and it would not only be cruel and inhumane to go the “bite the bullet” route on that one, but counter-productive, as being as pain-free as possible will speed your body’s recovery.
My post was part of a larger rant about meds, physicians, the whole medical community, and how they fuel the addiction problem in this and other countries. It was probably inappropriate to post this partial response here.
A different son of mine was given a prescription for 25 vicodin after his wisdom teeth were extracted. I called the office to rail about the irresponsibility of handing a teen such a massive tool of destruction when all he needed was some ibuprofen and ice. We’re talking TEETH! A sleepless night or two would not kill him, but addiction or overdose could. A neighbor’s father became addicted to opiates after hip replacement surgery. He had never used substances – drank wine only at Sabbath and the high holidays. This 76 year old man died of an overdose a year after surgery. Given his background, it’s doubtful he had a tapering plan. His Doc probably assumed a retired engineer could handle those powerful narcotics. Perhaps he questioned him after 6 months, but bought his story of continuing pain, because nothing in his history indicated risk of addiction.
Denise’s post struck a nerve. My son comments on the number of NA newcomers whose entree was the pain clinic. We have easy access to easy solutions for pain, so we have collectively as a society forgotten or discounted how much tolerance we really possess. Unfortunately, the easy solutions are imperfect and come with risks that can be life-altering or deadly, and so it goes…
Again, sorry to have mis-posted or partial posted. I wish you and Denise the speediest recovery.
OOPS. NOT: I did not mean to imply you shouldn’t go med-free,
MEANT TO SAY: I did not mean to imply you should go med-free
Hi MB. Sorry I didn’t reply. That’s quite ok…no hard feelings at all. There are a lot of problems in medicine, but the “fit” between the ailment and the treatment sure seems to be near the top of the list. And finding the balance between the risk and the appropriate relief provided by opiates pretty much epitomizes the problem.
I feel badly for doctors who have to make those choices. My brother is one. It’s not difficult to come down on the wrong side, one way or the other. Pain is such a subjective thing. And the way it affects the rest of your life is almost impossible to gauge in advance.
Anyway, your opinion is an important contribution to this whole dialogue. I welcome it.
Denise, that’s great to hear. The assumption of some powerful organizations is that any deviation spells doom. Then, on the other side, are those who say relapse is part of recovery. I don’t consider taking pain meds to be a relapse, but I am very aware of the patterns that so powerfully influenced my life years ago. 1. They are the same in some ways, different in others. 2. They are simply a lot less powerful. 3. My life is so different now that even if I were to try to land in the same place I was in back then it would be impossible. After the merry-go-round ride, kids will get right back on the nearest horse, but it’s never the same as the horse they got off of. That horse is now on the other side.
So be sensible, be aware, but don’t be terrified the next time you have to think about this.
Moving away from addiction is always “personal business” and bloody tough almost beyond comprehension, it really is awful to think that some appear to willingly or even unwittingly contribute to its attempted derailment.
It’s great that fellowships exist to help prop up the efforts of those who need it. However no one approach or mindset is exclusive over another. Strokes and Folks etc! Love unconditional and acceptance of limitations also exists for some in other places also.
Love isn’t known by any other name. And for me 22 and a half years later I welcome all the love I can get.
In light and love C
Yes, it’s the love that heals. So many great comments here. Thanks, Marc, for bringing so many of us to this place. I hope you can feel our love and support. And hope your neck pain gets resolved. Be kind to yourself. As you are to us.
It’s getting better every day, Janet. To you and to C, thanks so much for the good vibes, love, good wishes. Yes, I feel them. I felt a bit tentative about sharing all of this, but now I’m really glad I did.
As the Beatles put it, Love is all you need. Well, not quite. You need self-programming too! See next post….
Great post.
Marc,
Your posts always come at the right time. I have been struggling with my identity for the last few weeks after someone in the NA program, whom I have always had a nice relation with, said to me, No I cannot be your sponsor because you are not clean. (BC of the suboxone). There I was feeling pride in stopping the nonsense that was leading me to death, or loss of my kids, or worse. I had keychains with the months and days of being clean, because I felt I was “clean” because I was not spending my waking hours looking, seeking, trying to pay for drugs, and playing russian roulette with a syringe and powder that I had to Trust was not going to kill me. There I was feeling excited that some of my creative urges had returned and I was upcycling old storage benches and toolboxes into beautiful painted pieces of my “recovery” furniture. I was astounded when I opened a jewelry store on Etsy to sell the few hundred pieces that I have made over the years but too shy to put a price to. I was full of pride when every time the bank would not cash a check for me because I had not enough to cover it and I DID NOT flip out and yell at the teller because it no longer was the end of the world. Yes I could wait until the next day, unlike before when my whole life revolved around opiates and using and seeking. That woman who called me not clean in one fell swoop pulled the earth from under my feet. I have not been to a meeting since because I felt as a fraud. I have been in a bi-polar state of wanting to fit in to knowing that I cannot be who I am right now with out the help of suboxone. and that even before I took them I felt they would not mean abstinence. Reading your post, Marc, pulled a thought from somewhere inside me that I am human with a frailty and I love opiates to the point I would let them kill me and what NA or AA people say or think does not matter when I am sitting in my apartment having conversations with my 7 year old about ninja warriors or watching a zombie flick with my 10 year old or cooking dinner or feeling a sense of mom-dom when I have reinstated the family to sit around the table in the time since I have stopped using opiates in the deadly way. I still need to work on a big chunk of psychological issues that I believe led me at a not so tender age of 45 to become a full blown addict. Your post brought up some of my 20 something years mode of thinking about who I am. I feel now that the ground IS under my feet. I am still standing. And no I will never fit in perfectly to anyone’s ideal. I never did. I have always traveled the less beaten path. And I do not know why but your post has injected a familiar strength into my self. I identified with it so much. I have not used drugs for 8 months today. I am definitely happy about that.
PS I realized yesterday that I did not become an addict only because I loved the feeling of that”big maternal arms around me” but I think I loved even more the feeling of not feeling at all.
I hope you are feeling well and I am so glad you have the sun today. take care of it so when it gets back over NH I can enjoy it too.
Al
Congrats on the 8 months, Al, and also on getting in touch with why what the woman said to you about not being clean is just her opinion and only important if you also believe it. As you know, I struggle with similar issues. Bottom line is, you’re living a sober life now, and you happen to be taking a medication which helps you to do so. So what. You’re in charge of your life and your truths. In your heart you know what’s real and what’s good for you and those close to you, and that’s what matters most. Denise
Hi Al. Throughout human history there have been the self-righteous ones, who stand at the front of the crowd, point their finger, and shout “unclean”. I’m very glad that my post helped you see the fallacy underlying that accusation. That there is no single perspective, no universal morality at play. YOU know the difference between shooting smack and taking regular doses of suboxone. Your accuser seems to have no idea, and even worse, no desire to learn.
Ignore this person and trust yourself. Their words only reflect their own moralistic defenses — they have nothing to do with YOU.
Hi Marc. Thx for your post. Hope all goes well for you from here on out. I’m a recovering addict (over 23 years sobriety from alcohol, coke, pot, etc.). I’m in my seventies and having trouble with memory of names and nouns in general. My latest discovery (due to having shoulder surgery) is that my memory gets worse when I take the codeine pills. It’s like the road of my memory reduces to just a narrow path where I have to beat back the bushes to find anything. So obviously I stopped taking the pills after just a few days when I realized what was going on. I want to keep whatever grey matter I have left. Don’t know if others have had that experience too? Warm regards, michael
michael,
I only have 8 months without street drugs. I notice that my memory for words and names ESPECIALLY nouns. It could be the Suboxone I suppose, it still is a opioid. I cannot tell you how many times a day I am reaching into my own gray matter for words. I am in my 40s and my profession for most of life was that of an English Instructor for Students overseas. So, there was a time when I could speak like normal person lol. I also find myself remember words wrong. For example, the other day I wanted to say Boondock Saints, and I said just about everything but…Soonbock Daint, doonbock, dockbock. It is frustrating but I just learn to live with it. My family has begun to understand what I mean when I get stuck on my words and stay strange alternatives. I do not know how right this is but my older brother swears by Omega 3 and lots of sunshine. I mean they can’t hurt but I do not know if they help memory or not. I would be curious as to marc’s opinion as well,
Take Care, and Great job on your sobriety
Al
Hi Michael. I think anyone over the age of 40 has had some of that experience. Your metaphor about beating back the bushes captures it beautifully. I’ve had periods where my word recall plummets for a few days or weeks, and then it magically comes back. Maybe because I write a lot, I’m actually practicing word retrieval all the time! But yes, opiates can cause temporary functional loss of mental clarity. No doubt. But it’s only temporary…. Good luck with this balancing act.
Hey Marc
Good to see you posting again. As we have discussed recently my experience with Meth has been similar – the destination has changed, but the short cut still exists in my memory, like a well trampled path through a field of tall grass. Even once we’ve found more efficient routes to reach the places we really want to go we still have that path imprinted and it is easy to return to it, if even momentarily.
Yes, it is development – an accumulation of factors that build to provide the momentum for the drive towards chaotic use and similarly an accumulation of factors to put on the brakes long enough so as to enable us to redirect that momentum.
Yep, you and I see it in very similar ways. Many developmental skills and habits grow up alongside each other. I often think about those that enhance each other, reinforce each other. But I like this other way of seeing it: the skills and habits that are poised against each other also get an extra kick along the developmental path. They enhance each other literally because they’re in conflict.
Marc, just got your blog e mail this morning. Quite frankly I’m LMAO !
You sound like I did. Additionally you wanted someone who was re
addicted and now clean ,who’s better n you?
Here are some danger signs if I hear your exhibiting any of these Im
coming to The Netherlands and kicking your ass !
1. you start calling your wife ” my ole lady”
2. ” ” saying yo,yo,yo, use know what Im talking bout
3. ” ” ” Doc, Doc,Doc, my man, lemme hold an extra script ,case the
pain gets worse .
4.you go to the Drugstore ( or whatever you guys call then over there
) wearing a Groucho Marx disguise and sunglasses to pick up your
prescription so you can go back the next day and get it refilled again
( you hope and probably not).
5. you start smoking Kent cigarettes.
6. Pretzel Logic becomes your thought process .
7.your diet goes to shit the mainstay becoming twinkies.
8. the biggest part of your day is spent watching your shoelaces grow
.
Ok,my brother Im about out of ” stupid shit” at least for now . Enjoy
what you can ,be careful .If I prayed I pray for you ,I don’t ,sorry.
Your in my “good wishes ” . Stay in touch ,be well !
Jim Maguire
been away from this blog for a bit . . . stumbled upon this thread via email . . . and i am so glad i did, jim. You just made me laugh my ass off. =) thanks!
Jim, I had to look up LMAO in the urban dictionary, but I got the gist. Getting OLD! Your list is pretty complete, but I’d add a couple of things.
9. telling the doctor that the safest bet is a very gradual weaning process, so I won’t ever have to ask for more.
10. showing the pharmacists the scar on my neck and highlighting it with see-saw motions.
11. finding new places to store the meds every other day, just to be safe.
12. limping excessively
13. doing absolutely nothing around the house because, can’t you see I’m in pain!!!
Thanks for your good wishes. I’ll take it. Prayer gets too complicated for an agnostic Buddhist Jewish atheist…..
P.S.
You got the mandala part right, a sure sign that the end is near (which end, we don’t know)
Jim
LOL. Add to that list
1. sudden need to design endless amounts of mandelas.
2. Start a blog
3. Going to the outside in his slippers
Thanks for sharing! As always, I love reading your posts! Hope you recovery well from surgery and all other things, as well!
Thanks!
Marc, oh no, you too? (I mean with the surgery, not the pills…) I hope you are feeling a bit better by now! And I know exactly what you mean. The pull towards…..NOTHING! Disaster?
Except I learned a slightly different lesson: I went into withdrawals after weaning off of just hydrocodone after being on those pills for THREE WEEKS. I was at 1-2 pills a day! Who goes into withdrawals over that? I fully expect to be shunned, I am obviously not a “real addict”, and a disgrace to the title. I also learned (with the help–finally–of a doctor who gets what’s going on here) that I’m a “rapid and complete metabolizer”. I can’t wean, I go into “interdose withdrawals” at lower doses and it makes it worse. I have no problem NOT taking more, but I get sick either way. In short, I’m apparently defective as a human being, but I don’t have Volkow’s “different brain” that causes me to crave and change to a drug seeking monster, I go into withdrawals over amounts that any respectable opiate addict would either laugh or drop their jaw over. What a distinction I never wanted to have! Apparently, in my case, instead of the synaptic configurations you mention being more stuck on the reward part (don’t get me wrong, it was there for a few days, but would require significant updosing to still achieve), mine are stuck in the “kindling” or “recreate your past withdrawal episode despite shorter use/lower doses”. From what I’ve read, that doesn’t only not go away, it gets worse, or as I call it, NEVER NEED SURGERY AGAIN.
Funny solution, Marc, my doc had me pick up a refill of the recently discussed Tussionex syrup that I had sitting at the pharmacy. It’s more or less time released, I can’t metabolize it within an hour like pills, and best of all, 1/2 to 1 ml stopped the withdrawals! This self experimentation is rather interesting, isn’t it? I’m glad you’re reflecting on yours as well. Well, you’re actually reflecting, I’m just rambling…lol.
I finally had to pick up a refill though, I had an acute pain day, and the doc OKed use on non-consecutive days, but after tonight I doubt this will be a good option. The main problem being that I’m still in pain, now I’m just in pain, out of it and rambling all over your blog. On a dose they’d OK for a 12 year old. Surely there is a more productive method of post-op pain management. And one that won’t make me wish you had an edit option in the morning.
Best of luck with your tapering, I hope your metabolism is a bit more helpful in the process. I hope that you aren’t subject to kindling. Or excessive metabolization. And most of all, that you have no need in terms of pain to have to take them after that period. Speedy recovery, Marc, and as usual, all the best.
Oh yeah, I rambled. And am going to want that edit option. Dammit. I should have at least made it funny or spelled everything all messed up.
Hey Perspehone, no need to edit a thing. Your story is pretty funny….though I’m laughing with you, not at you, right? Welcome to the club of self-disrespecting addicts. I’ve been told that any self-respecting addict would gobble all my pills at once, so I guess there’s only one other option. Just send in your addict ID card and see if you can get a partial refund: you know, a partial return on years of suffering, relationships ruined, brain cells destroyed…..
You’re right, you are talking 12- year old doses at best. Also I don’t see how every second day will help with inter-dose withdrawal or whatever you called it. All we can do is play with it, experiment with it, etc. Sounds like you’re nearly there.
It also sounds like your doc is on your side. There are many who would rather let the pain take over, leading to ongoing depression, and then dose you with SSRIs for a few years. Oh my. There is still a lot of work to do.
ROFL…..yes, well, I stopped taking the pills even as rarely as I was after I babbled all over your blog. 1/5th the normal dose of the cough syrup for a few days and I was right as rain. The only depression involved is that I still can’t go on a walk!!! ARGH!!! Such is the nature of hip surgery, I suppose.
Glad I gave you a laugh, I’m laughing a bit remembering it as well, but I’m not letting myself reread it at the moment!
I forgot it was hip surgery. Yikes! That can be plenty painful. You’re made of strong stuff…..and maybe you have to be. Hope you heel quickly!
Oh Marc, I have a new field of activism after fighting for that DX. It was a labral hip tear, torn hamstring tendon and TEN torn core muscles. All in one surgery. I feel like friggin RoboCop or something. I didn’t know that much reassemly of one body was possible in a few hours time. I got called by a few for using meds for that, and gave as many middle fingers as possible, which I feel was almost too kind, given the circumstances…lol.
I’m getting a lot better, it’s hard reconditioning muscles that have just been sewn back together…lol….but I’m doing my best. Thanks!
New conclusion: the embarrassment is worse than the physical pain. Apologies to everyone for that ramble.
I believe we as human beings can over come anything we set our minds into doing. Our thoughts are our reality. Under the influence of any mind altering substance creates an imbalance in the brain and once I realized that and as much as I tried, I could not bring clarity to my life under the influence. After a time being clean and sober however, I came to believe if it’s to be it’s up to me and spent many years finding the answers that bring me back to a new beginning a new start. Knowing the consequences and finding out the who, what, why and when of what led me down the road to destruction. Today I can have a cold beer on the beach as I remember it was so enjoying the early stages, before I became dependent on it in my everyday life. When you experiment with drugs or alcohol, you brain either says “where have you been all my life” or “What the heck is that” Many of my natural feelings of pleasure or rewards clean and sober, would have never reached the climax they did when under them influence of that substance which brought me to a new level. There has to be a means to an end, otherwise you just keep using and follow the path of destruction. If you use for the purpose of avoidance, in dealing with some underlying issues, and never bring closure to them, like going through the grieving stages of a lose, their is no end… OK! Marc I could go on and on, hahaha…
Regards Richard hope to here from you soon…
Hi Richard. Your stories area always full of hope and optimism. And it sounds like you can also have a beer without the whole kingdom crashing to the ground, despite having been an alcoholic for years. It is truly that way for a lot of people who have had serious alcohol dependencies. Whether we want to call them “true addicts” or not is getting to be a boring topic.
Yes, you have to work to get to that state. Very often you have to get to know yourself a whole lot better. And/or you have to change the way you live with other people, sometimes for a long time before the structures can be seriously altered. So that’s what we do. Good luck to you.
Hi Marc
Believe it or not your piece,while terrific, reminds me of a Keith Richards piece that I read the other night while doing you- know- what. My wife is only 5’1″ and someone told her.that putting books under her feet helped things along. Keith’s biography got the nod.
So I read a couple pages in the middle …I found it depressing so I put it down. Too much drugs sex and rock n’ roll. Of course Keith Richards wrote it…what else would he talk about? But your version is the way his should have been …funny and self deprecating.
Thanks
JLK
Thanks, John. That’s nice to hear. I read half of Keith Richard’s autobiography and felt exactly the same way.
Marc thanks for your desire to share, communicate, grow, to do this blog and whatever else you do, books, talks etc.
My main addictions have been with food/eating disorders but what you said stood out to me about the pull toward… NOTHING. I was musing on this today at work, realising that when I’m eating, or just not hungry, I’m not able to be AWARE of the fact that I’m full/not hungry or therefore to enjoy it. It’s just ‘normal’ not ‘good’ or ‘rewarding’. So when I have binge cravings it’s not actually the presence of fullness or food that I crave, it’s simply to be rid of the feeling of hunger. Even though I often feel sick when I do eat, depending if I binge or not and a whole host of even more negative consequences than just feeling hungry can result, but none of these are able to register at the moment when just getting rid of the hunger/black hole/fragility of self seems to consume my whole being. Although the whole process of binging/purging is a kind of self escape experience, because it’s something you, (the self-aware you, the one that hurts) would never do, it’s irrational and ridiculous and you kind of observe yourself from the third person – horrified, but away from yourself nonetheless. And the fact that you look at yourself and think, how strange and horrible that I would do this and feel rewarded by it, proves that you are still not actually that person, that a part of you is away somewhere from your body, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to observe it. But having the food doesn’t make me happy, or feel good, it just numbs that craving, a weird psychological numbness observing intense physical and emotional sensation. AND the weird thing is, it’s not actually a craving for food, otherwise I would enjoy the food and be normal, it’s just a craving towards NOTHING, it can’t be satisfied. And somehow realising this has been helping me to bypass the cycle. Just trying to accept that it is actually a craving toward an indefinable nothing, there is no substance to it. and just try to get on with my day without acting on it. Don’t know if I’ve made the link clear between your thoughts and mine, but it resonated when I read what you wrote so thanks.
-R
Hi Rachel. This is incredibly clear. First, I’m glad that my ruminations helped you with yours. Second, I really like what you said about the disconnected 3rd person self that looks at that other (craving–filling up) self with some sort of disapproval, ranging from utter contempt to “that’s interesting”
However you slice it, what addiction seems to do is to separate you into parts. The craving part is missing the firm, solid, even friendly presence of self-reflection and self-control. The other part is missing….I guess what the present tense FEELS like. I find this segmentation to be one of the most unfortunate consequences of addiction. Because you never feel centered. Whichever “self” you’re being at the moment, it’s incomplete — just a part-self. And without the sense of centeredness, it’s hard to recognize the simple stuff, the warm flow of experience, that’s most valuable after all.
Thanks Marc.
Yes, I loved what you described in an earlier post about a weak, shadowy sense of self, something non-solid. I really know myself only as The Observer but find myself lost in knowing my own particular form. I find and know myself only in my responses to The Other.
But what I really wanted to say was, thanks so much for taking the time to reply – I can’t tell you how much that means and especially on the internet where talk is so cheap and for topics such as your blogs addresses its so affirming and meaningful for someone to listen to what you say and take the time to reply, honestly, I’m so surprised and grateful.
Thanks
-R
I wish you all the best in your recovery and your recovery.
Its compelling how dispassionate your relationship with opiates seemed to be this time.
Perhaps your return to the scorched earth of your past made it easier to not venture beyond the observation / sampling area. It brings back (a little of ) what the Dalai Lama
referred to as that place where one can decide / choose.
Any way, I am so happy about the neck thing being behind you.
nobro
Check out the next couple of posts, bro. Not dispassionate exactly. But scorched earth is the best signpost pointing in the right direction.
Just wanted to continue to encourage you during your recovery. This was a great depiction of what people go through when using pain killers for the right reasons and then the struggle they face when they are not physically needed any longer. I’m sure it will help a lot of people and be a great reference, especially coming from your background and experience with addiction. Over at The Recovery Way we see addiction begin in this very place, and end at our facility. It’s a tragedy when this situation takes over a life that otherwise would not be touched by addiction, however providing inspiration like this will certainly provide another positive outlook that it can be overcome!
Thank you, Kara. I’ve been done with the painkillers for a couple of weeks now. All went very well, very smoothly. Having a formal schedule for tapering is definitely the way to go, for people who’ve been on opiate painkillers for more than a few days. Whether they’re ex-addicts like me or fresh recruits!
Marc– after reading selections from this blog, your Toronto Life piece, and reading about your memoir, I would like to invite you to submit a piece to a call for submissions– I work for a journal of qualitative bioethics called Narrative Inquiry in Bioethics.For our upcoming winter issue, we’re circulating a call for submissions for a piece about personal experience overcoming a prescription opiate addiction. I believe your valuable experience would be an immeasurable honor to feature in our journal. Please contact me if you’re interested!