David: Life at the Extremes

David describes himself as “addicted to almost everything”, prefacing that by noting:

Addiction. What is it? Im sick of the word. Its never really been defined for me anyway.

He seems to have some powerful ambivalence going, as he continues later:

Heres the thing, my addictions make me feel weak and vulnerable; like a failure, someone unable to control his own impulses and desires. Yet I know, deep down that these impulses and desires are the seat of my power. The only true power I have. At one point or other in my life I have given up everything I was addicted to; booze, sex, drugs, computer games, sugar, exercising, gambling. They just keep coming back. So Im currently in a mode of indulging those addictions that I am unwilling to give up but keeping them contained. Hows it going, you ask? Not well. But Im not willing to castrate myself from myself and make some ridiculous, hygienic choice to purify my soul and rid myself of my desires, which in turn almost always turn into my addictions. Theres got to be a way; a way to dance with the Devil; a way to give the Devil his due and still walk in the light for most of the time. I suppose there is and I suppose its different for every single one of us, finding that balance.

The dynamics he describes are familiar to me, some of them from the first half of 2000 and earlier when I was in my 6-8 beers-per-night phase:

• Feeling weak and vulnerable at times, wanting better control.
• Feeling empowered and finding value in not living life as a purity campaign.
• Refusing self-shame and -castigation.
• Being determined to pursue better balance.

Dr. Lance Dodes, MD talks about folks for whom the decision to indulge in an addictive act can actually be empowering. To me, it’s not limited solely to addictive behaviors. Choosing to do something, breaking free of feeling stuck and having no options, can be helpful even when the specific choice is less than optimal.

In 2000, drinking too much on a generally daily basis, and making little or no progress when I tried to scale it back, was tiring and frustrating. I sometimes wondered if a power larger than me was assuming control, but found it counter-intuitive and counter-productive to indulge those sorts of thoughts for long.

In fact, the first couple beers of the evening did good things for me. They relaxed me, lightening my mood. My thinking grew more expansive, and the brainwaves that had been racing at breakneck speed all day seemed to slow down. I would re-ground myself with the reminder that life was about more than just producing, it was about appreciating many simple gifts. (Separate but relevant point: My current life includes just as much good stuff, but with a fraction of the beer.)

I hear echoes of those kinds of thoughts in David. Something deep, something meaningful is touched with the behaviors he describes as addictions, even as he identifies it as “dancing with the Devil.”

Prolific blogger Dean Esmay, who made a very public switch from active alcoholic to non-drinker in February and has since written a bit on AA alternatives, responded by describing his experience:

I can’t tell you the shame I have in realizing that’s where I was. Where I could even see the physical toll it was taking on my body and my soul, and still said, “fuck it, fuck everything, I just want more, I need to numb out the other shit that’s bugging me and I need more of this pleasure. It makes the bad go away and makes everything else feel good.”

That’s when you’re to the point of addiction my friend. When you consciously or unconsciously are making that destructive choice.

And the point of salvation? Where you have that moment of clarity when you realize that’s what you’re doing, and decide you must put a stop to it.

And the point of damnation? When you have that moment of clarity and realize that’s what you’re doing—and say “fuck it” and keep doing it anyway.

That is the choice between salvation and damnation, I truly believe.

The black and white, salvation-or-damnation, clarity is central to a lot of folks’ experience with substance use that became abuse and finally dependence. Behavior that escalated to extremes drew them into an extreme response, and framing the issue in blacks and whites helps to keep the focus on a worthwhile target.

But that’s not the only valid or viable response for everybody.

David wants to find balance apart from living a pure, hygienic life. One of the challenges I think he’s up against, as I described in my introduction to this site, is that so much of the public conversation about abuse and dependence focuses on the extremes, seldom appreciating middle ground.

Plenty of folks understand 12-step-based abstinence, as well as the idea that some folks abstain or moderate relatively effortlessly. But how many can talk about taking pragmatic steps to reduce harm, which most of us have done in some fashion? How many of us have avoided talking about intentionally moderating our drinking because some experts consider setting rules for controlling our drinking to be a sign of having lost control?

David is smart, in my book, to be consciously thinking about balance and noting that we’re not all going to find it the same way. At some point, even though it’s unpalatable now, he may find that abstinence is a better direction to go on some or all of the the indulgences that attract him.

In the short term, though, he probably stands a better chance of making progress by other means. When I find myself in a place similar to his, I find it helpful to stick to the simple stuff:

• Figure out what sorts of things are bothering me most
• Highlight those that are causing the most trouble
• Look for ways to scale the trouble or harm back by:
  • planning, and learning to enjoy, more frequent abstinent days
  • taking the non-abstinent days more slowly
  • taking action — doing things that matter more to me than drinking
  • recognizing, but not obssessing about, possible catastrophes and worst-case scenarios

Most of us know the stories about folks who have hit the extremes of addiction and abstinence, damnation and salvation. But how many of us also recognize the more boring, ordinary stories of folks who have matured out of their excessive behavior?

Sometimes the best thing we can do is to take genuine stock of ourselves and focus on making simple steps forward. Chances are good that our choices will trigger neither a lottery jackpot nor a lightning strike, but we can take a lot of small steps in better, neutral, or less harmful directions.