The Connection Problem
As I continue on my recovery journey I seem to learn more and more about myself. I make it a point to at least try and not focus on the past but it’s hard sometimes to not think about the why part of my addiction. Looking back at everything I went through with all of the pain and suffering to me and those around me, I can’t help but think, “why?” Now I’m not talking about the physical aspect of my addiction. I’m talking about the part that led me to becoming physically addicted. It was the same part of me that justified relapsing after going through a 30 day inpatient drug rehab program.
Well, after a couple years of intense therapy and 12-step work I think I know why but I think I need to explain some of my background for you to be able to fully understand.
Before I ever tried my first drug I always felt, well…bad. At the time I didn’t even realize that I felt bad because it was all I had ever known. To me, feeling bad was just normal. That all changed the very moment that I tried drugs (opiates) for the first time. Up until that point in my life I had never had anything to compare the awful feeling that I had inside to. Sure, I heard people talk about being happy and joyful and I thought I knew what emotions were, but back then being happy just meant not feeling as depressed as I normally did.
People in recovery from drugs and alcohol often talk about an invisible line being crossed at some point in their journey; that point being the moment their drinking or using went from being a bad habit to becoming a full blown compulsion. That line is the invisible line of addiction and once it’s crossed, there is no going back.
I’ve thought a lot about when I crossed that line myself. I used to think of that line being relative to when I became physically dependent on painkillers, but the more I learn about myself and the nature of addiction, the more I believe I crossed that line from the moment I took that first pill.
That one tiny white pill brought a whole new level of awareness into my life. I suddenly realized that feeling truly happy (or at least what I thought was true happiness) was possible. Like I said, before that pill, being happy to me just meant having a day where I didn’t feel as depressed as I normally did– but after the pill, I realized for the first time what it was like to not feel the heavy emotional burden that I had been carrying my entire life without even knowing it.
I once had someone explain it like this to me: Have you ever been in a room when a fan or a blower shuts off and you immediately become aware of how quiet the room has become, even though you didn’t even notice the fan until it had shut off?
Well that’s what that first pill is like to an addict. Suddenly you have this simple, perfect solution to a problem you didn’t even know existed sitting there in your hand, less than the size of dime. For me, that first tiny little pill brought a sense of peace and calmness into my life that I’d never experienced before. That fan, that was made up of undiagnosed depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, and anxiety had been blowing pain and loneliness down the back of my neck my whole life and suddenly, in an instant, it was shut off. Needless to say that tiny little white pill and I quickly became close friends.
Now, my new little friend did an exceedingly good job of taking my pain away (at least at first) and for the longest time I thought the relief of emotional pain was what drove me to addiction. Although I’ve come to realize that it was deeper than that. The reason I used painkillers (up to and including heroin) wasn’t just because of the emotional pain relief.
From the first day that I used, I noticed that my new little friend gave me a sense of confidence. I noticed that I was less afraid in general and more eager to strike up conversations with people I’d never talked to before. Opiates didn’t just kill my pain, they killed my fear of being judged or hurt by people and because of that I went from being a shy, reserved teenager who would literally lose sleep over the thought of having to speak in front of class to a seemingly courageous, vibrant, social teenager who wasn’t afraid to have his own opinions.
So for the first time in my life, I had my own voice. With that voice I started interacting with people more frequently without the fear of judgement that paralyzed me before. I was no longer a trembling chameleon trying to blend in with other people’s thoughts and opinions. So as time went on I started to develop my own identity and with my own identity came this new ability to connect and bond with people like I never had before. See, before my little “friend” came into my life I was too busy trying to blend in and conform to how I thought other people wanted me to act. Living that way only fostered loneliness and a sense of not having any idea who I was because who I was changed depending on who I was with.
But my little “friend” took away my fear and gave me some semblance of an identity and with that I was able to connect with people (or so I thought at the time). That intense desire to connect is what drove my addiction… it is without a doubt what made me an addict from that first little white pill.
Now as the weeks, months and years went by, the relationship between my little friend and I changed dramatically. I learned firsthand about the progressive nature of drug addiction and before I knew it, I was left feeling betrayed by my once closest little friend.
That “identity” that I thought I had slowly began fading away. It got replaced with a compulsion to use no matter the cost. The pain that was once blanketed by my “friend” crept back in as I tried using more and more to keep up with the tolerance I was building. What was once a seemingly innocent little white pill grew and grew into the monster that is heroin addiction.
The worst part of it all was that the “connection” that I had with people started to fade as well. The realization crept in that I was, in fact, a drug addict, as did the fear of being found out. So began my decent into complete isolation where the only real connections I had left were with shame and hopelessness.
My voice, happiness, identity and ability to connect with people all crumbled away and I was left worse off that I was before I had met my little “friend”. Now not only was I left with all of these voids in my life but I also had a chain wrapped around my throat that was my physical addiction to heroin.
All of this because I simply did not know how to connect with people. That really is the simplest explanation I can give to why I used and I firmly believe that it’s what drives so many addicts and alcoholics to drink or use as well.
That need for connection is what drove me to use and it’s what drives me to choose recovery each and every day. The connection that I thought I had back in the days of my addiction was really just pseudo connection. It was completely based on whether or not I was under the influence of drugs or alcohol. There was no substance to it at all.
Today the bonds that I share with people are genuine and that deep seeded need for connection that drove me to use is finally being satisfied through the relationships I have.
Like I said, I believe that need to connect is what drives so many people to drugs and alcohol. We are relational creatures and when we can’t connect with other people, we will invariably connect with something. It could be drugs, alcohol, food, sex, video games or even feelings like shame or anger. If you dig enough into an addict’s past you’ll almost always find something in that person’s past that has made it difficult for him or her to connect with other people.
Part of the reason 12-step meetings are so beneficial is that they put people with similar backgrounds into social situations where they can relate with each other. For me, that relation brought a sense of belonging which was so healing.
It should come as no surprise to anyone to hear that we have a drug and alcohol problem in this country and to be honest, I really don’t know what the best solution is. But I do know that every year 23 million people suffer with addiction/alcoholism and only three million get the help that they need. So I think it’s fair to say what we’re doing right now isn’t working.
Imagine a world where instead of shaming and blaming people for abusing drugs and alcohol that we instead looked at them as having a problem with bonding. I’d love to see our focus shift from being less about simply staying clean and sober to being more about connection.
I don’t know exactly what that world would look like but I have to imagine the stigma associated with addiction/alcoholism would lose a lot of its power and so many more people would be willing to come forward to get the assistance that they so desperately need.
So please… whether you’re in recovery or not, try and have compassion for the addicts and alcoholics out there because in reality they’re not dealing with a drug and alcohol problem, they’re dealing with a connection problem.
-Chris F.
Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. You can reach me on Facebook at Chris Freeman. If you’d like to do your part to help break the stigma associated with addiction and alcoholism then please click the “share yours” button and share your story and let them know that Chris sent you. Thanks!