or “Am I an addict?”

Note: this post, and any other post in the “30 day nephalist” category, has been moved from from an earlier blog that documented an important experiment – not drinking for 30 days.

Alcoholism is a disease, but it’s the only one you can get yelled at for having. Goddamn it Otto, you are an alcoholic! Goddamn it Otto, you have Lupus! One of those two doesn’t sound right.

more Hedburg quotes

Dead before 40, funny forever.

Mitch Hedburg, who died early because of his drug use, illustrates an idea central to the 12-step philosophy: Addiction is a “continuing and progressive illness…a disease from which there is no known cure.”

Am I an addict?

I spent five years introducing myself several times a week like so, “Hello, my name is TinyNow and I am an addict.”

Was I being truthful? I was certainly being honest. I abstained from all drugs because I thought, “One is too many, and a thousand is never enough.”  From the NA literature that is read at the beginning of every meeting:

Very simply, an addict is a man or woman whose life is controlled by drugs. We are people in the grip of a continuing and progressive illness whose ends are always the same: jails, institutions, and death.

Grim, isn’t it? But, like I wrote in an earlier post, I have begun to think that I am not powerless, that I am not an addict in the absolute sense.

This topic is particularly difficult to write about because:

1. I want to be truthful as well as honest. Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.
2. I don’t want to be a hypocrite. What, you were an addict then and now suddenly you are not?
3. The truth is hidden in my genes. I believe the growing body of evidence that addiction is an inherited trait, and I am not sure that I’ve inherited it.
4. I don’t want to help you rationalize. If any of you are asking yourselves whether you are addicts, or groping around for excuses to keep using, I don’t want to be the one to supply them.

So…I’m not going answer the question. I might be an addict. I might not.

I can say this.

• I have been more productive these past ten days.
• The cravings I have do seem to come unbidden (as if I was in the grip of some kind of…shall we say…illness.)
• When I am drinking, I drink enough to increase my tolerance.
• I fucked up my life in the past by using too many drugs*.

*When I say drugs, I refer to alcohol as well.

Maybe I’ll commit to defining myself tomorrow. In the meantime…

Day 8

I indulged in a bad habit. Television. What the hell, it was a Saturday. My girlfriend told me that her and her housemate had both decided to abstain from booze for one month! Am I going viral?

Day 9

I rode my bike up a very steep hill and helped build a little porch off my girlfriend’s back door. We ate dinner with friends and I only eyeballed the wine glasses a few times. My girlfriend is on day 7, but her housemate is starting tomorrow

Day 10

That’s today!

So far, so good.

30 day nephalist, overcoming addictions

Note: this post, and any other post in the “30 day nephalist” category, has been moved from from an earlier blog that documented an important experiment – not drinking for 30 days.

Pep Boys are part of the Matrix

I am a fairly scientific guy – agnostic. Nevertheless, I tend to believe in synchronicity, that coincidences aren’t always mere coincidences. Or maybe I just believe that, in the right frame of mind, happenings fall together, meaningfully.  Writer Amy Tan explains this phenomena in a great lecture at my favorite website, ted.com.

I’ll give you two of my own examples of synchronicity:

I was preparing to take my 1989 Chevy S-10 pickup cross-country from Long Island to the great Northwest. I needed tires and a few other fixes before I left. It was the last day of my job, which was in a strip mall, next to Pep Boys (an auto repair chain). I was over one year clean and doing all the right things.

When I came out of work, my car was in a different parking spot, with four brand new tires. I immediately called my mother.

“Did you get me tires!?”
“What?”
“Did you buy me new tires?”
“No….What?”
“I came out of work and there were four new tires on the truck! Who do you think got them for me?”
“I have no idea, but that is great!”

I called my dad, my grandparents, and several friends, they all had no clue. I started to feel weird about it when I still had no idea who the secret philanthropist was. I felt like Pip in Great Expectations. I called Pep Boys.

“We’re glad you called…a gentleman with a 1994 Chevy Blazer came in for tires.  The mechanic saw ‘black Chevy’ on the ticket and thought it was your truck.”
“But it was locked”
“The key fit.”

I was prepared to negotiate with them to see if they could take care of a few other things wrong with the truck and maybe get the tires at cost, but, for some reason, I opened like a lawyer.

“I’m getting ready to drive to the west coast. I’m not under an obligation to pay for these tires. After all, you guys basically broke into my car…”
“Okay. It’s our mistake. Enjoy your trip.”

Recognizing a good deal when I heard one, I thanked him and hung up.

It could have been a coincidence. Many old Chevy keys fit other Chevys. Pep Boys changed tires every day. It could have been a coincidence that my ignition key was so worn that I had taken to leaving it in the column and locking up with the door key. So what if it was the last day I would ever park in front of that particular Pep Boys?  And so what of the coincidence that I needed tires?…And that my Chevy was black and of a similar model to the one that should have gotten the tires? Coincidences all.

The problem is, if you add all those things together, the probability is about one in a trillion. I choose to believe that there was a reason all these factors came together – I was doing the things that the universe knows are right. This is still a leap of faith but it seems more logical than saying, “One in a trillion events happen all the time.” They don’t. They happen almost never. One in a trillion is as close to impossible as you get. And what is a miracle but an act of the impossible. It just makes more sense to explain these coincidences as a benevolent alignment of events that become apparent to people who benevolently align themselves with the universe.
The concept of a “higher power” appears in six of the 12-steps. My working definition of a higher power is “the thing that makes doing good things good for you” – grace, synchronicity, or just that warm feeling that you get for acting with compassion (even when there is no one there to witness it).

My next example of a higher power acting in my life is…

Day 4

Yesterday was so incredibly full of good things that I cannot help but think of it as a reward from the universe.  The only thing that marred the day was a slight headache and about three brief but strong cravings for beer.
Here is a partial list of the great things that happened:

• I went on an informational interview and it turned into a regular interview. It seems likely that I will have a job as an SAT coach in the near future.
• I spoke to my Dad about his girlfriend’s mean emails to me. He agreed she was being irrational and unjust and the small knot in my gut untied. (I feel it in my stomach when people are mad at me, even if they are totally whacked.)
• I spoke to my Mom about my job hunt and my sobriety and got the encouragement that only a mom can give.
• I sent an email apology to a girl that I had cut it off with rather abruptly and rudely a few months back. (This isn’t really something that happened to me, but the further untying of my gut was certainly palpable.)
• I spoke to a friend who I hadn’t spoke to in a while.
• I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a fantastic book of essays by Stephen Jay Gould on the library shelf. (An evolutionary biologist, master craftsman, and bringer together of amazing details to illustrate fundamental truths, Gould just plain rocks.)
• I received a call from an amazing woman who is a life coach by profession, but also works for an organization called Enterprise for Equity. We talked some my small business ideas and she said that she would fast-track me in the organization’s business training program. The non-profit will supply me with all the skills and guidance needed to create a viable business plan…(I just need to pick one. Easier said…)
• I completed about a dozen things on my to-do list. (P.S. I am one of those GTD junkies)
• At our regular Tuesday poker night, I walked away the big winner. (20 big ones)
• All this and beautiful weather.

So far so good!

30 day nephalist, communing with the universe, overcoming addictions

Note: this post, and any other post in the “30 day nephalist” category has been moved from from an earlier blog that documented an important experiment – not drinking for 30 days.

Nephalism

Neph”a*lism\, n. [Gr. ? soberness, fr. ? sober, ? to drink no wine: cf. F. n['e]phalisme.] Total abstinence from spirituous liquor.

The 30-day Nephalist

n. A 32-year old aspiring writer and slacker, living in the Northwest area of the United States of America, quenching his thirst for self-knowledge but not for microbrews.

I was completely clean for nearly 7 years, beginning when I was 24.  During that time, I embraced the idea espoused by most successful recovering addicts and all 12-step programs: I am powerless.

When you can truly admit that you are powerless over drugs or alcohol, it is impossible to justify using them. You want power over your life, and as soon as you pick up a drink, or take a hit, you give up that power. By admitting you are powerless to control consumption, you realize that you cannot have just one.

I was all about powerlessness when I first got clean.  I got into countless conversations with people who would say, “You have such great will-power!” No, I would tell them, not at all.  In fact, the awareness that my will-power fails in the face of drugs and alcohol is what keeps me from picking them up in the first place.

But then something changed.

Life got better and better after I got clean. I moved to the Northwest from my home on Long Island. I went back to school. I kept jobs and paid my tuition and bills (although I got a lot of support from my family and a little from the government). I became a writing tutor at college and was considered to be a great student by professors and friends. I had a sailboat and hobbies, friends and free time. And, I thought, some power. I started drinking. That was last summer.

What a dream – drinking in the Northwest, home of microbrews galore! And who doesn’t like a good party?

But a few times in the beginning, when I drank too much the night before, and a few times more recently, a great fear descended on me – Was I powerless after all? Why drink? Why?

Since then, I have shaken off that giant fear a few times and partied in relative peace, conscience unruffled, until this week.

When you spend forty bucks on booze for a two-day camping trip, and you are unemployed, you probably should ask yourself a few questions. And, I tell myself, you should probably be sober while you ponder them.

I have been drinking almost every day, usually not more than two or three, but sometimes.  I don’t get drunk easily anymore.  More and more I wonder, “Why drink?”

Why blog?

• to document my experience staying sober for thirty days
• to share with people who are struggling to find balance in their drug use
• to help me maintain my resolve
• to develop my blogging, writing, and ability to attract readers (read: web marketing, social networking)
• to answer the questions, “Why drink?” and “Why not drink?”

I plan to post to the blog regularly, four or five times a week, and to continue after the 30-days are up, whatever decision I make about my drinking. I plan to remain anonymous, although I will share my blog with friends and family members as long as I can feel safe about being completely honest.

Day 2:

I have a fridge full of beer from our camping trip, and a housemate who is happy to drink it.  I have told him and a few other friends about my 30-day plan, so it will be a lot easier to avoid temptation.

The impulse to drink has cropped up a couple of times. No big deal.

My mind is racing with all the angles I can approach this experience. So much to write about – the nature of addiction, the philosophy of 12-step programs, the varieties of microbrews, the creation of habits (good and bad), and of course the Big Questions: Why drink? Why am I here? What is my purpose?

So far so good!

30 day nephalist, overcoming addictions