Something's Got a Hold on You.: The Land of I really is an Island.

Allaholic?

We're all ___aholics.

Addiction has been defined as “a state of being dependent on a certain substance, which is harmful or dangerous for the physical or mental health of the person, for his social well-being and economical functioning of the subject”. When you type the word ‘addiction’ into popular search engines, you find links for various substance dependence sites. When I sift through these sites, I find little information that is helpful to me; yet, almost daily I find myself making decisions that are bad for me- decisions that are harmful for my physical or mental health for my social well-being and economical functioning. I am not taking hits of crack or lighting any pipes. My drugs are not nearly so obvious to pinpoint. They do not come in powder nor plant form. My drugs are daily decisions that I make. Decisions to which I keep running back. I know they are bad for me, but they are so beautiful in the moment, and I am irresistibly compelled toward these decisions. Since no one is over my shoulder telling me that what I have is an addiction that is may be akin to a drug addiction, and that the cycles in which I find myself are not much different than the cycles of many other addicts, I find myself going around the same mountain over and over again.

Let me give you an example. When I was 21, I was dating this guy named Alan. When Alan introduced himself, he said, “I work with computers”. I think, “Oh, a computer programmer! That’s a good job!” Turns out, Alan was a receptionist who happened to work in front of a computer. I should have gone running in the other direction from this obvious lying loser, but, unfortunately I did not. The first night we hung out was a blast. He was buying my friends and I rounds of drinks, we were hitting the dance floor hard, and he was telling me how excited he was to meet such an obviously smart and beautiful girl. He got my digits. “I’ll call you tomorrow” he promised at the end of the night. I did not hear from him the next day. I felt a little sad, but I accepted the rejection with dignity. This time. You see, I was not yet hooked. Alan eventually called with some excuse about how his dad had stopped by, and he had gotten in a fight with him and just could not talk afterward, but he added that he hoped I would please give him another chance. I did. This interchange pretty much made up our whole relationship. Sometimes the excuses were better than others. One time he actually told me he could not hang out with me because he had to help his friend clean a deer. But we went round and round this cycle for over a year. When we had a good time, it was so good. So fun. He was so attentive to me, so nice to my friends, so good at conversation and affection. But I could not have him. It would not last. And he kept me coming back and back for more. Each time I came back I had less dignity. I sacrificed more of myself. I planned my life around trying to “run” into him. I thought about him all the time. Drama from the relationship made my work suffer. Looking back there was so little real substance to our “relationship”. I was an addict seeking the next high. The next escape from my life. My reality. But I am getting ahead of myself.

I need to make sure you understand something right away. I am not an expert on addiction, and this blog is not intended to cover addiction research or literature. It will be a personal exploration of my addicitions which is intended to make you smile at points, to make you think at points, and to propose a view on life decisions that may help shape yours. As a natural observer and introspector, I have observed my repeated bad decisions (and those of my friends) and wondered why we continue to make the decisions that we do. I hope that you benefit from this blog as I know that these thoughts have greatly improved my decision making, and allowed me to be a good friend to others to help them make better decisions. I hope to be a friend to you as well. Because everyone needs a friend sometime to smack some sense in to them about their addictive habits.

Monday, February 20, 2012

The Land of I really is an Island.

SOTD- Ben Folds ft Regina Spektor- You don't know me
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UskSU5BoyZs

We're
Damned by the existential moment where
We saw the couple in the coma and
It was we were the cliché,
But we carried on anyway.
Loneliness. A place I have been and will stay, in some degree, forever. I realize that it's really impossible to be known by anyone else. And to really know anyone. My closest friends can hurt and shock me with their behavior, and I shock myself with my own thoughts and behavior even more frequently. As I delve further into myself- my fears, my trauma, and my thoughts, I realize that it's a place that only I can go. And that scares me. I guess I originally thought this would be easier than it is. Just stay present. It sounds so simple. But then I arrive at all these barriers (these mental issues- maladaptive ways of thinking and believing) to presence. And being present means that I have to stay with those as well. And it's confusing. I'm in a territory that no one has explored before- a place where there really is no road map. Why do I have these painful, hurtful habits? Where should I focus my energy? Should I even worry about why? Does knowing why I have them mean that I will be able to more effectively learn how to heal them? What can I do to move through them in a way that leads to more peace and more life and more wisdom? Is there any way to make it better? I know that really no one can answer these questions- but neither can I. Maybe that's what it is to be lonely.

But I am making peace with my loneliness everyday. It will always be here with me. I feel like there is a raging river of fear and hope and desire and pain and doubt flowing just under the surface in me. That is the me that is hard to get to know, and that desperately wants some companionship. Isn't that what we all want- to be known and loved? There are so many barriers to this- being afraid of what we'll find inside of ourselves, not knowing ourselves, not wanting to look, trying to find words to voice the abstract thoughts and feelings within, and believing that someone will listen to us try to explain them without rejecting us. As it gets harder, I'm questioning if it is even worth it. Maybe I'll just turn on some Friends and hope that after a long nap, things are simple again.

I know in a lot of ways my tale is as old as time. None of us knows why the ble** we are here (there is actually a movie with this title- I think it's worth watching). Religion sprouts up on every continent to try to answer this question (or maybe they sprout up because they are true). In any case, it's a question that is knocking at our door whether or not we choose to really wake up and open to the question and chaos that arises from actually considering it in the depths of ourselves. I think most of us gave up on this question pretty early in life. We just decided that it wasn't knowable and, consequentially, wasn't worth asking. We chose instead to believe that life should be about working each day in jobs that are safe and try to build safety around ourselves in other ways (save enough money, put locks on our houses, get vaccines/go to the doctor a lot, choose not to think about anything that is uncomfortable). I'm also not alone in trying to cope with the chaos by eating when I'm not hungry, drinking too much, or losing myself in the next relationship. But I feel pretty lonely sometimes in wanting to rage through the mess inside to find more on the other side. In looking at the delicacy of life and acknowledging that there truly is no safety (I really truly could lose everything at any second- and people do everyday), I realize that seeking safety is a way of dulling myself down and not really being alive. I'm never safe, so I need to stop lying to myself. This pacified version of me is based on a lie- and it's a version of me that is dead. So I guess that's why I'm trying to wade my way through this stuff. I want to really start thinking about my dreams- what would I do with myself if _______ (money, time, fear) wasn't an issue. Because in a lot of ways those things are NOT barriers- they ARE realities. I only have a limited number of hours (there isn't enough time) and I'm going to die (I'm never safe). So, f*** it. Let's try to live. Because, we are at least twenty to ninety-five percent done with this time we have on earth. Really. That's it. I guess my only choice is to delve into the chaos and see if I can find some real, fulfilling life. Can I get a man? Oh wait, I meant an Amen! (Freudian Slip)