I am an addict.

Trigger Warning: This post contains descriptions of drug use.
             

                Time for some introspection. I’ve never been more wholly assured that I am an addict. It’s been almost a year since I’ve taken a drug that wasn’t prescribed to me, not including marijuana, alcohol, and nicotine. After all that time, I am still an addict, and I suspect I always will be. I am sober in writing this, besides my nicotine vaporizer sitting next to me and the amphetamines I take for ADHD making their way through my bloodstream. I suspect I could live without this upper in my system, but it is difficult. Depression and anxiety don’t hit as hard when I take my pills, though the fact that I take them creates a whole new cause for concern. They improve my standard of living, but at what cost? Is being chemically dependent on a substance worth having an improved quality of life? I still don’t know for sure.

                Marijuana has been the starting point of addiction for me. Smoking night and day was a part of my identity in the past; everyone in my life began associating me with the drug, including myself. It functioned in the same way that alcohol functions for many of my family members; the same way that any other drug seems to take over someone’s life, though fortunately without the agonizing withdrawal effects. This has been changing the last few months, as I’ve come to recognize my addiction and control the urge. I’ve gotten to the point where I can have weed and not smoke it. This is a trivial accomplishment to anyone who hasn’t struggled with self-control, but to an addict it is a sign of hope.

                If I pull myself back in time I can still feel the rush of certain drugs. The anxious sweat and chills at the beginning of an acid trip and the euphoric rush of oxycodone in my nasal cavity are sensations that I’ve come to know. These drugs are polar opposites in my mind. One gives you bursts of energy and tricks your brain into seeing ordinary objects as beautiful. The other simply numbs you to the experiences of life. As many people do, I felt eager to experience life following my three acid trips, spaced out over a period of three years. After developing an oxycodone habit, however, life didn’t seem as appealing. The same could be said for any opiate, benzodiazepine, or tranquilizer habit.

                George Carlin explained addiction with a greater understanding than any doctor I’ve talked to. Among other bits of wisdom on the topic, he said the more you take a drug, you will feel less pleasure and more pain with each additional dose. Carlin knew that people could overcome their addictions; something that many addicts fail to recognize. I’m thankful that I realized the story I was writing for myself was not something to be proud of, though I am not ashamed either. All of my experiences have made me who I am, and I’m fine with that. It will continue to be a struggle, but I am getting stronger every day. I still plan to eventually come off my medication and quit smoking cigarettes, though I don’t think that will happen if I don’t tell myself that I’m doing better every once in a while. If there was any point in writing this, it is to tell myself that I am doing better.