A description of the addict
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A description of the addict
Hello boys and girls and children of all ages... 
It's been a long time but I am back. Things are wonderful here. Life is good. Wife is celebrating a year clean and sober on the 24th and we are both actively and happily working our programs. That's enough update. On to other things.
The following is a passage out of a young adult fantasy novel that, as an addict myself, I think describes addiction in a way that is seldom heard but is accurate. I offer it in the hopes that it is found to be illuminating for anyone struggling to 'get it'.
“Every hour of every day on your world,” Son-see-a-rae said, “more people die because the primitive brain has influenced them to voluntarily put poison into their systems, than we have in our entire village. These people are otherwise, intelligent people with much to live for, even by their own unskillful standards.”
I wondered if she had somehow mistaken my world with some other world because I had no idea what she was talking about. “I don't want to be disrespectful, but are you sure that you have the right world?” I asked. “Because that doesn't sound familiar at all.”
“You do not have drug addicts on your world?” she asked. She was right. I hadn't thought of it as putting poison into one's system but yeah, that's exactly what it was. My Uncle Harry, my mom's brother, died from a drug overdose. “It does not have to be anything as terrible as drugs either. Daniel has told me that your world is currently experiencing an epidemic whereas people keep putting sugar in their body until they get sick but still they do not stop. Then they lose their sight; still they continue. They lose limbs and still they do not change the way they live. Eventually they die.”
That was true, I knew. Of the top of my head, I couldn't think of a single family who hadn't been affected by diabetes. “No one,” Son-see-a-rae continued, “thinks to themselves that when they grow up they're going to kill themselves this way or that way. So why do they?”
“Well, my mom's brother, Harry,” I said, “began taking drugs, or rather, putting that poison in his system when he came back from the Vietnam war and he never stopped for any length of time. He went into hospitals and sanitariums, he even went to prison for a few years for a robbery that he committed trying to get money for more drugs. It never made sense to me.”
Son-see-a-rae nodded, “It can seem as if it makes no sense, but there is an answer. First of all, the horror of war cannot be overstated whether we examine it from a societal or spiritual viewpoint. When your uncle went to war, he saw things that no human should ever have to see; experienced things that no one should ever have to experience. Had your uncle been a cruel, sadistic person, war would not have caused him pain. He was, however, a good man.”
“The primitive brain is in charge of pain and pleasure and insisted that he escape the pain he was in. The higher functioning part of his brain understood the risks but he couldn't find an alternate way to relieve himself of the pain. Eventually, the insistence of the primitive brain won out and he began using drugs. After that, it became even more difficult to resist the call of the primitive brain because his higher functioning could not deny that this method did take the pain away. That said, it is always the case that if the person lives long enough, the cost of escape exceeds the cost of capture.”
“So you're saying that the cost of a good man escaping is that he must give up his goodness?” I asked.
“Certainly not,” Son-see-a-rae said adamantly. “He did not stop being a good man.”
“You didn't know him,” I protested, “he broke my mother's heart so many times, not to mention my grandmother and grandfather. He'd lie, cheat, steal; whatever it took for him to continue using drugs.”
Son-see-a-rae nodded, “I do understand this, Josh,” she said. “Let me ask you this: imagine that you are grown and have children of your own. An illness prevented you from being able to work and you found yourself homeless and without means. You are watching your children die of starvation right in front of you. Is it wrong to steal food so that your children may continue to live?”
I frowned, “That's pretty far fetched, but yes, it's still wrong I suppose, but it is probably less wrong than allowing them to die.”
“What if you had no children and it was you who was dying of starvation?” she asked. “Remember; your true nature is no different from the children.”
“I think I'd feel even worse if I was stealing food for myself,” I told her, “but yeah, I suppose that anyone's life is more important than things.”
“Typically, in the animal kingdom,” Son-see-a-rae continued, “pain precedes death. When the primitive brain feels pain, it feels fear. All fear is fear of death; and all who live seek to avoid death. When the fear becomes such that the primitive brain believes that death is imminent, it will do anything to avoid it. It is willing to lie, cheat and steal as your uncle did. It is also willing to do much, much more than this. Because the higher functioning area's of the brain remain, the primitive brain will do as little damage as possible while it tries to resist death, but there is nothing that it will refuse to do.”
“The behavior of your uncle,” she said, “was no different than the behavior of anyone under what they believe is the threat of death. The goal then, is to realize your true nature so that you understand, from an unshakable perch, that you cannot be killed. Your true nature is immortal and need not fear anything. Relieved of the power of fear, you are truly free to live as you desire, without any need to escape anything.”
It's been a long time but I am back. Things are wonderful here. Life is good. Wife is celebrating a year clean and sober on the 24th and we are both actively and happily working our programs. That's enough update. On to other things.
The following is a passage out of a young adult fantasy novel that, as an addict myself, I think describes addiction in a way that is seldom heard but is accurate. I offer it in the hopes that it is found to be illuminating for anyone struggling to 'get it'.
“Every hour of every day on your world,” Son-see-a-rae said, “more people die because the primitive brain has influenced them to voluntarily put poison into their systems, than we have in our entire village. These people are otherwise, intelligent people with much to live for, even by their own unskillful standards.”
I wondered if she had somehow mistaken my world with some other world because I had no idea what she was talking about. “I don't want to be disrespectful, but are you sure that you have the right world?” I asked. “Because that doesn't sound familiar at all.”
“You do not have drug addicts on your world?” she asked. She was right. I hadn't thought of it as putting poison into one's system but yeah, that's exactly what it was. My Uncle Harry, my mom's brother, died from a drug overdose. “It does not have to be anything as terrible as drugs either. Daniel has told me that your world is currently experiencing an epidemic whereas people keep putting sugar in their body until they get sick but still they do not stop. Then they lose their sight; still they continue. They lose limbs and still they do not change the way they live. Eventually they die.”
That was true, I knew. Of the top of my head, I couldn't think of a single family who hadn't been affected by diabetes. “No one,” Son-see-a-rae continued, “thinks to themselves that when they grow up they're going to kill themselves this way or that way. So why do they?”
“Well, my mom's brother, Harry,” I said, “began taking drugs, or rather, putting that poison in his system when he came back from the Vietnam war and he never stopped for any length of time. He went into hospitals and sanitariums, he even went to prison for a few years for a robbery that he committed trying to get money for more drugs. It never made sense to me.”
Son-see-a-rae nodded, “It can seem as if it makes no sense, but there is an answer. First of all, the horror of war cannot be overstated whether we examine it from a societal or spiritual viewpoint. When your uncle went to war, he saw things that no human should ever have to see; experienced things that no one should ever have to experience. Had your uncle been a cruel, sadistic person, war would not have caused him pain. He was, however, a good man.”
“The primitive brain is in charge of pain and pleasure and insisted that he escape the pain he was in. The higher functioning part of his brain understood the risks but he couldn't find an alternate way to relieve himself of the pain. Eventually, the insistence of the primitive brain won out and he began using drugs. After that, it became even more difficult to resist the call of the primitive brain because his higher functioning could not deny that this method did take the pain away. That said, it is always the case that if the person lives long enough, the cost of escape exceeds the cost of capture.”
“So you're saying that the cost of a good man escaping is that he must give up his goodness?” I asked.
“Certainly not,” Son-see-a-rae said adamantly. “He did not stop being a good man.”
“You didn't know him,” I protested, “he broke my mother's heart so many times, not to mention my grandmother and grandfather. He'd lie, cheat, steal; whatever it took for him to continue using drugs.”
Son-see-a-rae nodded, “I do understand this, Josh,” she said. “Let me ask you this: imagine that you are grown and have children of your own. An illness prevented you from being able to work and you found yourself homeless and without means. You are watching your children die of starvation right in front of you. Is it wrong to steal food so that your children may continue to live?”
I frowned, “That's pretty far fetched, but yes, it's still wrong I suppose, but it is probably less wrong than allowing them to die.”
“What if you had no children and it was you who was dying of starvation?” she asked. “Remember; your true nature is no different from the children.”
“I think I'd feel even worse if I was stealing food for myself,” I told her, “but yeah, I suppose that anyone's life is more important than things.”
“Typically, in the animal kingdom,” Son-see-a-rae continued, “pain precedes death. When the primitive brain feels pain, it feels fear. All fear is fear of death; and all who live seek to avoid death. When the fear becomes such that the primitive brain believes that death is imminent, it will do anything to avoid it. It is willing to lie, cheat and steal as your uncle did. It is also willing to do much, much more than this. Because the higher functioning area's of the brain remain, the primitive brain will do as little damage as possible while it tries to resist death, but there is nothing that it will refuse to do.”
“The behavior of your uncle,” she said, “was no different than the behavior of anyone under what they believe is the threat of death. The goal then, is to realize your true nature so that you understand, from an unshakable perch, that you cannot be killed. Your true nature is immortal and need not fear anything. Relieved of the power of fear, you are truly free to live as you desire, without any need to escape anything.”
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Join Date: May 2012
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Hi Legna,
So happy to see you back here, and hear things are going well for you and your wife. She has a year – that is so wonderful. She has been through so much… you both have.. but Im happy for you.
What a great excerpt from your book. What you wrote is so very true… there are many addictions out there… some are just as deadly as drugs but they can go along more hidden, they don’t shine quite as bright as drug use. There is just so much you packed into this short story here… how the person underneath is still good. Its so simple and true, yet its not a message you hear all that often… drugs change people.. my husband never would have done some of the things he did, if not for the strong pull, the fear of not being able to function, to work, to live, without continuing to use. So happy those days are gone.
Thank you for sharing with us.
So happy to see you back here, and hear things are going well for you and your wife. She has a year – that is so wonderful. She has been through so much… you both have.. but Im happy for you.
What a great excerpt from your book. What you wrote is so very true… there are many addictions out there… some are just as deadly as drugs but they can go along more hidden, they don’t shine quite as bright as drug use. There is just so much you packed into this short story here… how the person underneath is still good. Its so simple and true, yet its not a message you hear all that often… drugs change people.. my husband never would have done some of the things he did, if not for the strong pull, the fear of not being able to function, to work, to live, without continuing to use. So happy those days are gone.
Thank you for sharing with us.
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