Another story of addiction and recovery~
I received the following addiction story from a reader, another recovered addict (from an eating disorder mostly) apparently sick and tired of the misconception. I’m publishing it here with very few changes, It’s my personal opinion that if more recovered addicts stood-up and told the world that their previously sordid lives are now full and complex, just as they are meant to be, we’d see a lot less of the kind of misjudged treatment Sarah is referring to. So thank you Sarah Henderson for being the first one up to bat on All About Addiction. And here’s to all those who are going to follow everywhere – There’s no doubt in my mind that when it comes to inspiration, addiction stories do as good a job as research-based education.
You could call me these things. But they wouldn't be accurate. Because I am not these things,these labels. And I am not in recovery of these things.
I am recovered.
From those things, I am recovered. I am bipolar, which requires ongoing management. But you wouldn’t know it if I didn’t tell you. I am not the stereotype, I am not the crazy person we all think of, ranting and raving on some street corner. I am like anyone else, except I take a few pills before I brush my teeth in the morning.
I still catch flak all the time. For the taking meds, for going to therapy, for the eating disorder history, for the visible scars from years of cutting. People comment on them, I’ve lost jobs because of them. It’s like, what do you want? I used to cut myself. I don’t anymore. I used to starve and binge and purge. I don’t anymore. So eat lunch with me and stop looking at me like I’m going to vomit on the table any second. Deal with me as I am now, not as I was then.
And yes, I take medication for a chemical imbalance. Guess what? So do diabetics. Only their imbalance is in the pancreas, and mine is in my brain. That’s the difference that makes people freak. That’s where the stigma lies.
If you ask a poet, he’ll tell you the seat of the soul lies in the heart. If you ask a neurologist, he will rightly tell you that the seat of the soul lies in the brain. And anyone who’s ever experienced dementia will testify to that. It’s very possible to exist in your body without living in it. And it’s possible for the person you love to die long before their heart stops.
I believe that stigma comes from people’s instinctual knowledge that when you mess with the brain, you mess with the soul. It can be disturbing, it can be terrifying, it can be cruel. And most people just aren’t up for facing that. However, when you don’t face it, you also miss out on everything the other side has to offer: healing, resilience, clarity, and courage. And while they are some people who don’t come back from mental illness, the vast majority of us do. The other side is a beautiful place. And if you can get past the stigma, you can join us..