The Fear of Not Having Enough.
The Fear of Not Having Enough.
Addiction is a lot of work. People don’t realize all that is involved in being an addict or an alcoholic. For me I would wake up with “the need” and would run myself ragged until my number one priority was met, enough whatever to get me through the day and the following morning. I was always looking for my next drink or drug so the “Committee of Assholes” that comprised the phantom community of my mind would shut the hell up for a while.
If I had had a good night the day before there would be a beer or two in the fridge and a few joints left over, if not I would have to get out on my bike and take in my empties, mooch a cigarette from someone on my journey to the beer and wine store. If I had only enough for smokes I would buy beer and smoke butts or bum cigarettes until I could find someone to “lend” me some money. All of these things kept my mind occupied so I didn’t have to think about who I was. Funny thing was, more I drank more reasons I had to drink. The longer I drank the more shame I piled on top of my already overburdened soul the more I needed to drink so I would be distracted from my shame the more shame I piled on. It was a vicious spiral.
Eventually, pardon my pun. I stumbled into a situation where there was no chance of running out of booze or weed. I was pretty happy about that… … for a while. For the next three years if I was awake I was drunk or well on my way there. Then something changed. Now I was drinking and not having to chase what I needed I had time to think. Ugh, the whole reason I drank was so I would not have to think.
Suddenly alcohol was just adding to my misery in a more conscious way. That was hell, the committee of assholes in full voice while alcohol fueled my depression and sent me to the floor in a flood of remorse and tears many times. Not having to live with the fear of not having enough was killing me with a quickness.
The point I am making is that an addict, while spending time getting their needs met, is blowing the need into a very large thing. The longer the hunt the greater the need becomes in their mind until it can be silenced briefly by the addict’s drug of choice. When withdrawal hits, all one can think about is that it has to stop not realizing that to make it stop one needs to let it run its course. An addict in withdrawal is sometimes convinced that what they are feeling at that time is how it will be forever. If they do manage to get to the other side they are left with the committee of assholes now no longer shut up or occupied by the chase for relief.
I am here to say that the committee of assholes can be silenced with only brief appearances with time and by facing the things they say and examining the facts of what they say. It’s a long slow and painful process. You do not become enlightened by reading a book about light, you become self-aware and enlightened to empathy, starting with looking inwards. For an addict or anyone forced to begin this path by running out of road it is a rough journey in the beginning but the wide places in the path where you can rest begin to appear and soon you find yourself walking out of the bad neighborhood of your mind and into the garden that is your soul.
I had a counselor ask me once when I would consider myself successful. I told her, “When I no longer return empties for the money and I no longer keep a butt can in my house.” I have not done either for at least 8 and a half years now.
Addiction is a lot of work. People don’t realize all that is involved in being an addict or an alcoholic. For me I would wake up with “the need” and would run myself ragged until my number one priority was met, enough whatever to get me through the day and the following morning. I was always looking for my next drink or drug so the “Committee of Assholes” that comprised the phantom community of my mind would shut the hell up for a while.
If I had had a good night the day before there would be a beer or two in the fridge and a few joints left over, if not I would have to get out on my bike and take in my empties, mooch a cigarette from someone on my journey to the beer and wine store. If I had only enough for smokes I would buy beer and smoke butts or bum cigarettes until I could find someone to “lend” me some money. All of these things kept my mind occupied so I didn’t have to think about who I was. Funny thing was, more I drank more reasons I had to drink. The longer I drank the more shame I piled on top of my already overburdened soul the more I needed to drink so I would be distracted from my shame the more shame I piled on. It was a vicious spiral.
Eventually, pardon my pun. I stumbled into a situation where there was no chance of running out of booze or weed. I was pretty happy about that… … for a while. For the next three years if I was awake I was drunk or well on my way there. Then something changed. Now I was drinking and not having to chase what I needed I had time to think. Ugh, the whole reason I drank was so I would not have to think.
Suddenly alcohol was just adding to my misery in a more conscious way. That was hell, the committee of assholes in full voice while alcohol fueled my depression and sent me to the floor in a flood of remorse and tears many times. Not having to live with the fear of not having enough was killing me with a quickness.
The point I am making is that an addict, while spending time getting their needs met, is blowing the need into a very large thing. The longer the hunt the greater the need becomes in their mind until it can be silenced briefly by the addict’s drug of choice. When withdrawal hits, all one can think about is that it has to stop not realizing that to make it stop one needs to let it run its course. An addict in withdrawal is sometimes convinced that what they are feeling at that time is how it will be forever. If they do manage to get to the other side they are left with the committee of assholes now no longer shut up or occupied by the chase for relief.
I am here to say that the committee of assholes can be silenced with only brief appearances with time and by facing the things they say and examining the facts of what they say. It’s a long slow and painful process. You do not become enlightened by reading a book about light, you become self-aware and enlightened to empathy, starting with looking inwards. For an addict or anyone forced to begin this path by running out of road it is a rough journey in the beginning but the wide places in the path where you can rest begin to appear and soon you find yourself walking out of the bad neighborhood of your mind and into the garden that is your soul.
I had a counselor ask me once when I would consider myself successful. I told her, “When I no longer return empties for the money and I no longer keep a butt can in my house.” I have not done either for at least 8 and a half years now.
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