…by Lynn K. Thorsen…
Out of the blue I found this poem in my inbox this morning. I contacted the author, Lynn, and she gave me permission to publish it here. You will see why I had to share it with you.
………………..
Top Ten
(Reasons I Addicted Myself to Heroin)
Because when I was nine and we moved away and my grandmother died,
I thought I killed her because I didn’t write often enough.
Because having to move every three years and say Goodbye to everyone,
even my dog, was so unbearable
That I pretended that anyone I said goodbye to didn’t actually exist.
Because when my parents sent me away when I was Thirteen and just starting
to develop breasts,
I thought they sent me away because I was just starting to develop breasts.
Because when they sent me away I had to pretend
That they had never existed so I wouldn’t miss them.
Because my mattress couldn’t fly out of the
Window and fly me away.
Because when I found out I was pregnant at seventeen
And thought I was in someone else’s play,
I wasn’t.
Because I lost track of who I was and who I wanted to be.
Because I didn’t care about myself, or care for myself.
Because the pain I carried cut me off from
Everything, even my own childhood.
Because Penny said, “It takes away the pain.”
And it did.
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
Touching, painful and beautiful. We do things to ourselves we would never wish on another person. Is it because we feel too much that we lose ourselves? Or because we don’t get enough practice feeling so we never find ourselves to begin with? Where does this giant hole come from that we feel so compelled to fill, even if it’s with our own misery?
Haunting poem and excellent questions.
I think we don’t get enough practice feeling. We suppress feelings, run from them and eventually numb them.
it is in the innocent perceptions of a child that anxiety and fear is born. even with a good upbringing, even more probable without one, and the fear becomes the basis of the need for security which is answered by the feelings of numbness and pleasure drugs create by their suppression of the anxiety. because its little things seen big through little eyes as being threatening even if they weren’t meant to be that causes the self to turn inward away from others into the security of loneliness, a sad place to be. how wonderful drugs are in helping the lonely.
Hi Terry
They do help initially as a coping mechanism, but soon become the instrument of loneliness. Loneliness is not good for humans. That’s where addiction takes us. There’s a great book, “loneliness” by Cacioppo and Patrick that examines this very clearly.
I really identify with your description “…the feelings of numbness and pleasure drugs create by their suppression of the anxiety.” In retrospect, I realize that that pleasurable experience was made even more pleasurable by instantaneously changing my mood. It wasn’t so much that I felt better. I just didn’t realize that I could feel different. I thought my anxiety and depression were the way I was supposed to feel because I didn’t have anything to compare it to. Now I had the control to change my internal state immediately. But it became a shadow of control.
In addiction, that’s where most of us end up. We’re not taking the substance to feel better. We’re just taking it to feel different.
Thanks Matt – yes the thing we seek to ease becomes the thing we create – drugs help loneliness by giving social confidence and then as dependence occurs destroys relationship – I am reading Gabor Mates book In the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts now and it talks about relationship in addiction very well – the same for anxiety – it is eased then becomes paranoia in the end – if a drug user could only maintain control rather than seeking to use all the time seeking the feeling all the time and thus destroying the feeling through tolerance then things would be better – the old less is more theory.
Hi Matt,
For me, the inability to acknowledge, understand, and begin to deal with emotional pain led me directly to heroin. As a child, I had no way to express the pain of separation. It just sat in me and grew and grew until I was overwhelmed by it. Writing the poem was an exploration in how that pain started and continued to be fed by circumstance. Thank you for reading and responding to it.
Best,
Lynn
Thanks, Lynn…for both the poem and your comments. I remember the feelings of droll disaffection and malaise… anxiety, and depression…feeling they were the set point of my emotional life. I didn’t know it was pain until I took my first opiates. I didn’t know there was another way to feel. I remember as the feeling of warm relief spread throughout my body remarking to myself, “Gee…I can do this. This is not so bad.” Those of us who were left to our own devices had to find a way to fill that emotional hole with something…
Hi Matt,
As I said in the poem, “Penny said, ‘It takes away the pain.” I was sitting across from her at her kitchen table. I looked up at her and held out my arm. And oddly enough, I suddenly felt more myself than I had in years and years. How does this happen?
On the flip side, when someone asked me how it felt to be “sick”, I told them that I could feel my heart beat, and it hurt.
So strange and weird. The only medications I’ll take now are aspirin and fizzing cold remedies. I want to be as close to the world as I can. Because I now know, without any hesitation, how very strong I am, and how good that small piece of personal insight feels.
Best,
Lynn
How does this happen? It happens because we were finally the one who was in control. And it made us feel better, to be in control of our internal state; that gave us happiness. But it was an illusion. Just like all the other illusions of control we scurry after as human beings.
That ended for me with the ultimate act of control– to take my own life. The greatest gift of that experience was to know it was no longer an option, because I could see the devastation that would be wrought in it’s wake. It had been taken off the table.
Now when my heart beats, it doesn’t hurt. Even though I know it’s been kicked all over the yard. It doesn’t hurt because it isn’t constricted and closed off and defended anymore. It doesn’t hurt because it’s open to give and receive love; it’s been opened by compassion for myself and others. It’s a hard won compassion, but that helps me realize just how precious it is.
Thanks so much Lynn, for your healing words…
You are absolutely correct Matt, these are indeed very good lines. Thanks to author for sharing this.
Marc, and Lynn, Thanks for sharing a beautiful poem. It expresses so well how heroin helps to insulate a person from her pain and make her feel comfortable. That is, until it brings along a whole new set of problems. Marc, it’s been an interest of mine as to why different people get addicted to different substances, as was touched upon in your last entry. I hope you’ll be doing more research into and writing about that.
Hi Denise,
Thank you for reading and commenting on my poem. So the interesting point is that being an addict does bring a new new set of problems, but they, for me were somehow easier to deal with that trying to find out why I started on heroin in the first place. Oddly enough, heroin gave me a way to continuing living my life. I know that must sound very strange.
Best,
Lynn
Actually, Lynn, it doesn’t sound so strange. I’ve been taking a generic Suboxone for years, based on my “addiction doctor’s” belief that my brain needs the opiate. So there you are. Both personally and professionally I’ve known several people who needed opiates to function. I believe this is an area of research that needs a lot more attention.
Hi Folks and curious entity’s(that have not travelled the quasi pain/sweats/aching/withdrawls….finally morphine/ relief).
There is always a turning point(14 years old for moi,and some but growing up in a violent enviroment for ten years).
You may turn to pot or booze,wiz but smack is the ultimate short term suppressor/escapism opiate.
Lost my family(but my children loyal to the core)
This is the Devils drug……musician/touring the globe for twenty years.
Trust me balance of probabilities of consumers circa 60/70% that will consume and
end up forming a mild to dependant addiction.
Sharing this anecdote/observation&experience through trial and error
Take care all……only one crack/chance at life
Don’t fuck it up….if you’re on the skids please get help
Wow! What a beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing it with us! It just goes to show how much power drugs really have over somebody. Absolutely love it.
Beautiful poem. So bare and true. So painful. Alone. Stark and unhealing.
Is there anything we can do? Those of us who share this pain because we
are the mothers, and fathers, sons, and sisters, and children of those
addicted. How do we help them? Reach them?
What is the language of this terrible pain?
Thank you for writing this poem. Please feel the love and compassion that
my heart has for you.
Hi Janet, Thank you for reading and responding to my poem. What I’m learning in trying to respond to you is that we really need to develop a language around pain. And not have it tied to guilt. I could never express my emotional wounds to my parents. They loved me and wouldn’t be doing these things to hurt me, so either I deserved the pain (killed my grandmother) or they didn’t really love me (could not bear to think about that one) or … or… what? I had no way to express my deeply bleeding heart. I was so alone and had to constantly pretend otherwise. So, yes. We really need a language for pain. Thank you for helping me better understand all this. Best,LYnn
Every so often I come across an adult who has somehow maintained a purity, despite having endured some extraordinary challenges. For whatever reason they didn’t do as most do – abandon the innocence of youth in exchange for the pretenses and defensiveness of adulthood. I LOVE when I see that in people. Reading this poem gives me a sense that its Author is one of those people.
The poem is about as pure as it gets. There’s not a word wasted on any fluff to conceal, minimize, or dance around the pain. It is both heartbreaking and healing. It makes me wish I could scoop every suffering addict up and free them of every ounce of pain and suffering. It takes a powerful poem – written by a powerful soul – to inspire people like that.
I’m glad it found it’s way to your inbox, Marc. Thanks for sharing it and thank you, Lynn for sharing your beautiful heart with us.
Hi Richard, I’m a bit wordless (somewhat of a new experience for me..). Thank you so very much for your comment on my poem. The word “pure” rang very true to me. I tried to get as close to what churned inside of me as I could. It’s very interesting to examine how feeling pain that somehow shouldn’t be felt, brings guilt, which feeds the pain, which brings more guilt.
I’ve always written things. I think it has always helped. I’m very happy to share my words, especially when they bring us all closer to understanding how to deal with the unspoken emotional distress that some of the most unlikely of us feel. Thank you again, very much. Best, Lynn
Every person has their own threshold for pain or sensitivity. I came from a family of four girls and none of us responded to anything alike. In fact we have totally different memories on many things that went down, good and bad. Why are we trying to pigeon hole everyone into a certain disorder when none of us are what so ever alike on so many levels and view most everything differently on many different levels. Using for some of us is a way to get through, to learn on our way to where we want to go without the intensity of pain we are use to feeling. Most that use don’t use for life and don’t end up on skid row. Most move out of it without professional or 12 step help. Using is not the demon but societies view on it is not at all helpful. It only perpetuates guilt and shame and that does most everyone no good….unless PTSD is your thing. And I doubt that.
Hi Cheryl, I was close to standing up and applauding when I read your note. “Using for some of us is a way to get through, to learn on our way to where we want to go without the intensity of pain we are used to feeling.” God, yes.
It’s not a disease. For some, opiate addiction is a safe haven for those in deep, unrelenting, unacknowledged pain. I came through the other side. Many don’t. I don’t know how we can learn to help others to face those demons before they are devoured by them.
Thank you for your comment and your insight.
Best,
Lynn
It is wonderful that you are strong enough to share with us your journey. Thank you.
Beautiful poem. And the last two lines are so very true. I remember reading something written by someone who only tried it a few times who said “I never realized how much white noise was in the back of my mind until I tried heroin.”
That’s the truly nefarious seduction. Other drugs can produce euphoria, but none are capable of simply taking away the pain, the anxiety, the fear and sadness while still leaving you feeling normal underneath. And heroin was very good at that. There was using for the high, but there was using for the normal, more than anything. It just goes away. How does it do that? How does it work? What vile siren is this?
Takes away the pain, but bills you with interest.
Oh yes, normal. Getting through the day feeling normal. No high, really. Just a nice persistent feeling of “I can do this.” So first, the alleviation of pure white pain, and then the nicety of sort of feeling like you assume everyone else feels. Normal. And the little voice saying, “but do you deserve normal? How much are you willing to pay for it — because clearly you don’t deserve it.” And you are willing to pay a very great deal. It’s rather overwhelming, looking back now, to try and understand the pain and pressure I was under. And somehow, cruelly, believing that the pain was what I deserved. Yikes. Thanks, Aidan. Normal is a very strong word.
This may not resonate now, but tossing it out.
Becoming numb, (or with alcohol, drinking, usually to blackouts), felt like an effective way of becoming free from life, or “taking away the pain.”
It seemed unimaginable to think of living without this need to do this, and the addiction provided, and guaranteed this ability, and it was reliable too.
Recovery programs tried to recommend finding a substitute of some sort, but that seemed like trying to use calming tea as a substitute for pain killers during root-canal…there seemed to be no substitute.
But there is something to look forward to other that trying to find a substitute.
The very struggle to regain freedom from an addiction can involve much more than simply quitting, abstaining, changing patterns, habits, etc.
Regaining ones freedom is not simply going back to the “way things were”.
Changes of consciousness can occur too.
One of the reasons some people don’t return to an addiction, is not due to control, strength, self-discipline, etc, but because of a sense-of-awareness that you are part of, and engaged in something that has many more facets, and exists on a much grander scale than just the perfunctory continuum daily life.
The Personal traumatic dynamics of the struggle itself can be one of the reasons a person becomes aware of things you were not aware of before.
Thank you for sharing that.
Heroin is much more than a physical pain killer for sure. The relief from your own emotions’ though, that’s a feeling only an opiate can get. I write about my reason for starting heroin here at http://heroinreality.com/2015/11/21/why-i-moved-from-percocet-to-heroin/
One last poem to share — after addiction, when the soul still feels the pain and believes, because it is the only thing to believe, that the pain is deserved, they turn to other punishments:
First Words
My husband beat me
five times before I decided I
had had enough, more than enough of
taking death for granted and wishing
I could turn suddenly into a werewolf
so that I could
Terrify him. Eat him up.
It embarrasses me to remember the nights
when I believed that passive resistance
was God’s truth and that there was no room to
Fight back. Or even run.
It’s a social problem.
It wasn’t a social problem when
he kicked me in the stomach
or held a gun to my ribs
or a pressed a very sharp knife (it felt cold, too)
up against my neck.
Of course, it didn’t happen to me.
Because I am very successful, educated, tres chic
and things like that don’t happen to people like me.
If it had really happened, I would have said something
Before now.
Lynn – I’m appreciative of this powerful poem. And I hope, if any of it is based on a real relationship in your past, that you are safe right now.
Hi Fred, Thank you for asking. The relationship was in a far distant past, and a different world. I am safe, very happy, secure, and now able to share some of my past with others in the hope that it will offer some help at some time to someone.
Best,
Lynn
Hello everyone,
I think that this topic is very complicated. I am doing a whole paper in school about the growing heroin epidemic and I have been finding some very interesting facts. First I would like to say that many people have different views as to why people do any drug and I feel that the reasons vary from person to person. I will say that the first drug many people get addicted to is pain medication prescribed by their physicians. These prescribed narcotics can be just as dangerous as Heroin. In fact at one point prescription pills were responsible for about 75% of drug related deaths in Florida. Many of the pain management places in Broward county Florida didn’t have certain things in place to control the amount of narcotics one was being prescribed. In 2010 they finally voted in that they use a “database” showing who is getting how much of what mediations. In my opinion I believe that every state should have this database. I also feel that doctors need to be more open to other pain management such as physical therapy, acupuncture and many other things instead of just handing out highly addictive narcotics.
I was addicted to alcohol and I know how difficult it is to overcome the situation. The days when I was in my rehabilitation center was torturing. It was very hard to control my urge. I was violent and hard to be controlled. I had to spent 5 month in my rehab center. I thought everything was fine and that I’m out of it. But that wasn’t the case. The most difficult time was after coming from rehab center. I had to control my urges. Keep myself away from social drinking, parties and friends. I had to say no to everything. I knew that I might lose control. I didn’t want to got through it again. It was hard to say no to everything. Specially to people who didn’t know that you were in rehabs before. I tried myself hard to keep away from triggers. I was determined and yes I could overcome. After rehabs is the most tough time to deal with. I found this blog helpful http://www.canadarehabreviews.com/blog/after-rehab/avoiding-triggers-after-leaving-rehab/
Thanks for joining us, Omar. If you’re launched, on a stable trajectory, then that’s great. I just wish there was a way for you to feel more relaxed, more at home in the world…the “white knuckling” you describe doesn’t sound like a picnic.
On this blog you will find lots of unconventional approaches to addiction and recovery. But many of us agree that identifying yourself entirely as an addict permanently “in recovery” is not the most comfortable and happy place to be.