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I have an addictive personality.
Before the rumors start running rampant, that does not mean I am addicted to anything illegal, destructive or perverse. At least not at the present time. It does, however, mean I walk a very fine line between being in control and out of control.
Addiction runs in my family. My father was an alcoholic... and a very violent one at that. His father was an alcoholic as well. And, since medical science has shown it can be passed through generations as easily as eye color or male pattern baldness, I deal with it head on. With the exception of very rare, very special family occassions or those involving close friends, I do not drink. Although I do enjoy the taste of a cold Stoli and tonic, basically I don't miss it.
Nor have I ever done drugs. No cocaine, ecstasy, meth, qualudes, or other so-called party drugs. I did smoke pot twice when I was in college. It didn't do much for me and I saw no reason to go back for a third time. I make no judgements about others who do use drugs. I just know the problems they could present for me.
I got a preview of just that kind of threat 12 years ago. I was living in Texas and had major surgery. In the three days following surgery they gave me either Morphine or Valium or both. I was having the time of my life. I had never felt like that before. Despite the stitches and the tubes, I was livin' large. The only problem was the effect only lasted about 90 minutes, and I got the shots every two hours... so that last 30 minutes was hell on earth. I craved those shots and then I flew like a bird.
I was truly very sad when they told me they were taking me off the drugs after three days. And as my head cleared, I realized more than ever just how vulnerable I was... and still am.
By and large I've managed to avoid a taste for alcohol or drugs so they haven't become players in my life. As a matter of fact, they've been as rare as boyfriends. The problem with having an addictive personality is that there are other threats and other temptations out there... all that appear harmless or benign to the rest of the world, but are disasters lying in wait for people like me.
So... what's the point, because there must be some point, otherwise I wouldn't be writing about it. I don't know if there is one. I guess I'm just aware of the fact that control can sometimes be more an illusion than a reality. Sometimes it is just incredibly exhausting, trying to teeter on the very sharp edge between living life and screwing it up.
Before the rumors start running rampant, that does not mean I am addicted to anything illegal, destructive or perverse. At least not at the present time. It does, however, mean I walk a very fine line between being in control and out of control.
Addiction runs in my family. My father was an alcoholic... and a very violent one at that. His father was an alcoholic as well. And, since medical science has shown it can be passed through generations as easily as eye color or male pattern baldness, I deal with it head on. With the exception of very rare, very special family occassions or those involving close friends, I do not drink. Although I do enjoy the taste of a cold Stoli and tonic, basically I don't miss it.
Nor have I ever done drugs. No cocaine, ecstasy, meth, qualudes, or other so-called party drugs. I did smoke pot twice when I was in college. It didn't do much for me and I saw no reason to go back for a third time. I make no judgements about others who do use drugs. I just know the problems they could present for me.
I got a preview of just that kind of threat 12 years ago. I was living in Texas and had major surgery. In the three days following surgery they gave me either Morphine or Valium or both. I was having the time of my life. I had never felt like that before. Despite the stitches and the tubes, I was livin' large. The only problem was the effect only lasted about 90 minutes, and I got the shots every two hours... so that last 30 minutes was hell on earth. I craved those shots and then I flew like a bird.
I was truly very sad when they told me they were taking me off the drugs after three days. And as my head cleared, I realized more than ever just how vulnerable I was... and still am.
By and large I've managed to avoid a taste for alcohol or drugs so they haven't become players in my life. As a matter of fact, they've been as rare as boyfriends. The problem with having an addictive personality is that there are other threats and other temptations out there... all that appear harmless or benign to the rest of the world, but are disasters lying in wait for people like me.
So... what's the point, because there must be some point, otherwise I wouldn't be writing about it. I don't know if there is one. I guess I'm just aware of the fact that control can sometimes be more an illusion than a reality. Sometimes it is just incredibly exhausting, trying to teeter on the very sharp edge between living life and screwing it up.
posted by Bill at
5:21 AM
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