Skip to main content

Addiction: lessons from recovery and hopes for the future


Good afternoon folks! Today I wanted to address something that not a lot of people talk about openly on the interwebs: addiction and the recovery from it. I will put a small trigger warning on this post, though there won't be any graphic details, so worry not. Thanks for clicking on this post and I hope I can impart some wisdom from my personal struggle with addiction (doubtful but let's give it a go). 

You might not think, if you know me personally, that I've struggled with addiction. A lot of people see the word 'addiction' and immediately assume drugs, drink, sex, smoking, and it's true that I've never struggled with any of those things, but I do have experience with a different, psychological, addiction. It was to self-injury, and I was even treated with a drug called Naltrexone, which is more commonly used to treat heroin-addiction. 

After eight years of intense, all-consuming addiction to self-injury, you might wonder how I ever stopped and how I've remained abstinent from it. To be honest, there was no turning point, no sudden realisation, but rather enthusiasm for a gentle upward climb to a normal (or as normal as I can be really!) life. 

In the next few sections, I'm going to explore why I believe addictions set in and answer the previous two questions: how I stopped and why I remain abstinent, in hope of reaching out to some of you guys who might either be struggling with addiction or are interested in helping someone who is!


Why does addiction set in anyway?

There's that classic rat experiment: give rats the option of heroin in an empty cage and they will always choose it, but give them it in a stimulating, happy environment and they will always choose alternative option, the water, without fail. In my experience and through talking to others with addiction issues, it is clear that addictions stem from an internal struggle, whether that be low self-esteem, trauma or an inability to cope with life as it is. Difficult situations can be the catalyst, but the addiction feeds on discontent.

The addict is in a way a victim of their circumstances, but they are also the ones with the power to change things and move away from addiction, to a place where their addiction no longer rules their lives and dictates their actions. This I shall discuss next. 


I want something and it's not this

After eight years, I was deeply entrenched in what I believed kept me going: the addiction. I had some delusional fantasy that if it weren't for the self-injury I wouldn't even be here. I would have given up long ago. But in truth, the addiction was only keeping me exactly where I was - drowned in guilt and unhappiness. 

Gradually, over time, and through therapy, I came to a sort of resolution. I decided to give sobriety (aka refraining from my addiction) a try. I started off small and tried 40 days. I only managed 38, but I was proud of myself for what I'd achieved. I tried more and more to engage with therapy and find alternative coping strategies. Because I'd never not-self-harmed for very long, I didn't really know what it felt like to be clean, wound-less and proud of myself for that. I became keen to give this a try and although there were slip-ups, I was committed to giving life without self-harm a go. 

I'm two years in now, with two slip-ups in that time, and I'm functioning relatively well now. But how do I remain sober? What have I put in place and what can you do in turn to manage your addiction? I have a couple of ideas...


Staying sober despite life's difficulties - slip ups are normal

First of all, don't berate yourself for little blips. And that's what they are, blips. They don't have to become full-blown relapses or day long addiction-binges. They can be small mistakes that mean nothing. Recovery isn't linear, but you will get there. You can succeed and one day completely abstain from your addiction. Here are the aforementioned ideas:

1) Understand yourself better and come to terms with what fuels your addiction personally. 

For me, my issue with addiction came from a degree of trauma and low self-worth. It's not easy growing up for anyone, but my experiences, personality and circumstances that I turned to self-injury as a way to cope with life. Through EMDR (eye movement desensitisation reprocessing - look it up if you wish!), which I've mentioned before, I reprocessed that trauma and came to terms with the memories that were plaguing my everyday life. I healed a part of me that was fuelling my addiction. 

Therapy is extremely helpful in treating addiction and I would highly recommend, if you're struggling, seeking professional help. A therapist will be able to point out things to you that you never knew were issues and give insight into things you cannot yet see. Anyway, in short: therapy is awesome! 

2) Strengthening Relationships: talk about it and open up if you can! 

It's really important to have strong friendships and healthy relationships with partners and family when managing an addiction. Having someone to open up to can tip the scales in the right direction when a relapse seems to be imminent. So choose the right people to be around, ones that do not engage in your particular addiction themselves and who truly care about you. Seek out these people and you'll form a circle that will protect and energise you. 

3) Goals and anniversaries

Celebrate when you've achieved a year sober, two years sober, ten years sober! Treat yourself and be actively proud of what you've achieved. You deserve every treat and every kind word. 

For my one-year sober, I got a tattoo! It was fabulous! I would highly recommend it! 

So there are my ideas on how to stay sober, I hope you've found them helpful. And I hope this post has opened your eyes to addiction a little, whether you're an addict or have just come across this post on my facebook. Addict doesn't equal the abstract image of some 'worthless' junkie. We are real people and we are ill. But we can recover and we will do so. Believe in us. 

Over and out! 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Not-Dinner-Party-Appropriate: anecdotes from the mental hospital

 I feel like a time traveller. I've awoken in 2021, sleeping through a pandemic and my teenage years, now in my mid-twenties. I have no dinner-party-appropriate anecdotes. Only mental ill-health with bouts of questionable wellness. I have been in four different mental hospitals, which I predict could be four more than most people. No one talks about it, including me. Like, at all.  Whenever someone talks about mental illness, there is this most impenetrable silence, followed by: 'I knew someone who was depressed once.' Or a casual, almost nonchalant change of subject. I mean, we talk about mental health a lot - how to keep it afloat, how to do 'self-care' in a commercially-assisted sense. It's all body butters and face masks.  I don't like it when people reduce preventing mental illness down to looking after yourself or not. That is a large part of it, a whole team of people looked after me at my worst. Most things cannot be made better with a face mask.  It

Imposters: a story about a Capgras delusion

  It's cold. I'm always so cold. My hands quiver blue and wrists bloom purple, after days of bang, bang, banging my wrist on the arm of my chair. I don't think I'm okay, but I don't think I'm not okay either. I think, I think, I think I'm breaking. I am on the children's ward. I have not seen my real parents for months. Some strange people visit sometimes. I hide from them. They are not my parents. They are often nice and I begin to trust them, then they'll do something off-kilter and I shy away again, like a beaten dog.  I had climbed out of a window, bawled through the lane outside the house and taken solace at a friend's home up the road. Gently I was led back to my childhood home and bundled into the car, driven to the hospital and admitted in hopes of finding a way to avoid another inpatient admission. We couldn't find one.  I arrive at the unit, brittle. Last time I was in this position, I had a home, but now I'm adrift. My parents

Section three - a mental hospital anecdote

  There is so much that I can't tell you about my third admission, so much I can't remember. Illness blurs the details and the privacy I owe to my friends erases the daily minutiae of the unit. In short, I had been sectioned - section three, six months. A treatment order, that in retrospect, could probably have been avoided. Or maybe that is just what I like to tell myself when I think about it late at night.  I had found myself in a field, shivering in the early evening sun. It was July, I was in love, but still very, very ill. I had been taken on four occasions to our local accident and emergency department that week. I was, as I read later in my unit-admission report, 'no longer manageable in the community'. I was sad, but determined. I was determined to make an exit any way I could. Instead I was flown to Woking, heavily sedated - so much so that I have no memory of the journey there and was deemed 'unresponsive' in my admission interview.  I digress. So man