Dying to Get High

Since Philip Seymour Hoffman’s body was discovered on February 2, 2014, I’ve pondered whether to write about it.  What can I add to the flood of coverage?  Maybe nothing, but here goes.

Let’s stop being ignorant about drug and alcohol addiction.  We once embarked on a well-meaning, but painfully naive, campaign to JUST SAY NO to drugs.  Perhaps one day a high-profile drug death will force us to JUST SAY NO to our collective ignorance of addiction.  Addiction is disease, plain and simple.

Many of us think of the famous and talented has having something we don’t, an edge that we’d love to have.  This is largely true.  Addiction, it seems, is the great equalizer.

That Philip Seymour Hoffman was a great actor is undeniable, so, too, it seems is the fact that he was a drug addict.  Being a great actor is a mark of distinction.  Being an addict is not.  The addict is like a character from a Tom Clancy novel, operating in the shadows, doing his best to conceal his true identity.

Hoffman gave many fine performances as an actor.  His skills are now a footnote to his life.  He will be largely remembered for how he died, not how he lived.  For all its trappings, this is one element of the price of success.  Anonymity is gone.  Fame–or infamy–take its place.

Hoffman is not afforded the vague obituary of the common addict.   You know some of these people.  Their obituaries say they died “suddenly” or “unexpectedly” or after a “brief illness.”  Perhaps they died of “heart failure,” another common euphemism for overdosing or drinking oneself to death. There are no requests to support cancer research or hospice care in lieu of flowers.  They are relegated to the same types of amorphous remembrances as suicide victims.

Hoffman died like most addicts–alone.  By all accounts, he had been clean for over two decades, only to relapse in the past couple of years.  It took him two decades to build his enviable career.  It took his addiction less than two years to kill him.  If you are familiar with addiction, you’ve seen this same story play out before.  Regardless of how glamorous one’s life may have been, this death is not.

The addict’s death is an ugly death.  Google Chris Farley’s name, and one of the images you’ll see is his body after his overdose death.  Ugly might be a mild word.

The chances are that every person reading this knows an addict.  Perhaps you are one yourself.  If so, you know the power of the addiction.  Maybe you are one of those for whom addiction is a sign of weakness or poor morals.  If so, consider:

  • Have you ever taken an illegal drug?
  • Have you ever taken a prescription drug that belonged to someone else?
  • Have you ever taken a legal drug but not followed the directions?
  • Have you ever had a drink of alcohol?
  • Have you ever been drunk?

Some folks-very, very few–can answer “No” to all of those questions.  If so, you have avoided the risk of setting off your addiction.   If you answered “Yes” to any of those, you are simply one of the vast majority of us.

The great puzzlement of addiction is that most people–indeed, the overwhelming majority–can do all of the above without becoming an addict.  Life for an addict is different.

The simplest (and best) explanation I’ve ever heard for why we drink or take drugs is this:  We like the effect.  That’s hard to admit for a lot of us.  We want to think we are wine connoisseurs or that we “experiment.”  The truth is more blunt:  We like the effect.

The addict likes the effect, too.  His world, though, is different.  He obsesses about the effect.   When he consumes a drink or his drug of choice, he likes the effect, but then craves more.   In his last days, he can’t quite get the desired effect.  More is better but never quite enough.

I am certain that most people reading this cannot relate.  You may have a drink or two at dinner and think “I better slow down.  I’m starting to feel this.”  Maybe you smoke a joint to relax.  For the addict, that drink or joint lights the fuse.  His response is “I’m starting to feel this.  I need more.”  As F. Scott Fitzgerald said “First you take a drink.  Then the drink takes a drink.  Then the drink takes you.”

Hoffman, Lenny Bruce, Judy Garland, Whitney Houston, Chris Farley, John Belushi, Michael Jackson, Heath Ledger, River Phoenix, Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin–all well-known drug deaths.  A similar list could be compiled of the famous who drank themselves to death.  Actors, athletes, politicians–the lists are practically endless.

These are the addicts we know about.  Consider all the ones we don’t. They include your friends, neighbors and even family.  Maybe you, too.

Like other diseases, addiction doesn’t discriminate.  The rich and poor; black and white; male and female; young and old–addiction throws a broad net.  The addicts I’ve known include doctors, lawyers, accountants, realtors, salesmen, ministers, carpenters, brick masons, electricians, janitors, politicians, housewives and many others.  Money, success, failure, poverty–none of this matters.

You may be of the stripe who say “Lock ’em, up!”  While I disagree, I understand the sentiment.  It is more comforting to think we can hide it.  Looking at it is tough.  There is shame in it.  And fear.  We’ve stuffed our prisons full, yet our friends and neighbors still die.

There is good news, though, among all this sorrow–and it is sorrow, by the way, destroying the lives of the addicts and all those who care about them.  Addiction is treatable.  Make no mistake here–it is not curable.  The clean addict or sober drunk is one drug or drink away from disaster.  Ongoing, effective treatment can and will prevent that.   Our attitude toward addiction remains a great stumbling block.

The stigma attached to addiction is daunting, worse perhaps than mental illness.  While we’ve grown accustomed to taking a pill for this or that , we still shrink at the thought of a drug addict or alcoholic among us.

Shaming the addict into the shadows with the threat of prison or ostracizing him won’t work. I’ve never known an addict who enjoyed his or her addiction in its chronic form.  No one sets out to be a drug addict or alcoholic.  Sanctimonious preaching won’t cause a great revelation in the mind of the addict.

Why don’t they just straighten up?  You might as well ask a cancer patient why he “doesn’t just get well.”  I once heard that no one was ever shamed or browbeaten into Christianity.  Treatment for addiction works the same way.

If we consign addiction to the dust bin of moral failure, we simply accept it as a human frailty.  It is much more than that.  Likewise, it is not a bad habit.  Leaving one’s dirty clothes in the floor is bad habit.  Drinking or drugging oneself to death is not.

Addiction is a disease of the mind and body.  The addict’s mind drives him to his drink or drug while his body craves more.  Addicts aren’t “partying.”  They are dying.

Addiction has one distinction that other diseases do not.  Often, the addict has no desire to stop.  The disease convinces him that he has no disease.  I can think of no other chronic, fatal illness that has that so affects its sufferer.  As a result, getting help for an addict is difficult, even impossible in many cases.  That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.

I suspect that if a terminal illness swept through our population like addiction has, we would bring every possible resource to bear on its eradication.  Of course, it is foolish to think we can eliminate this disease.  As long as there are human beings, some will want to change how they feel.

Perhaps if we take addiction out of the shadows and remove the stigma, we can make some progress.  If every drug or alcohol death were publicized, we would be horrified by the numbers.  For all his fame, talent and wealth, Hoffman died the addict’s death.  He leaves children to mourn him and puzzled friends.  The next time you hear of an overdose death, think about your friends and family.  There’s probably an addict lurking among them.

©www.trivialtroll.com 2014

14 Comments

  1. I am in long-term recovery meaning no drugs or alcohol for more than 16 years. I am ready to share my truth so others can enjoy the remarkable changes and incredible hope that sobriety has brought me. I honor your truth and the very elegant way you shared it. Awesome…..

  2. Best written blog I’ve read this month. Very wise and insightful. Maybe you’re correct about a very high profile person dying of addiction before the “war” really begins. Hell we still deal with it publically like we did in the 60’s. Where is the “fundraiser” to STOP addiction.
    Art

  3. I have nothing more to add, only many examples to confirm how true all you say here is. I am an addict, and I, for the first time, really get what you are saying here because i have experienced it. And one of the feelings i am most confronted with lately is that, no matter how hard i want to stop, no matter how convinced and motivated i feel about a new beginning, i always relapse. And I see the effect and consequences of my numerous relapses on the people surrounding me, on my partner, and how it becomes too much for them to handle, while still respecting and taking care of themselves. And in front of all these things i wanted to build but destroyed and keep destroying, i feel really sad but I don’t feel bad or guilty like I forgot to do the dishes my partner keeps asking me to do, because I don’t care so much about it. I don’t feel guilty because I,m really doing my best and I’m really putting as much effort as i possibly can to achieve my goal. I don’t feel guilty because I’m not the one making the decisions here. This thing is so powerful that, even as a little powder in a bag, it is able to control me like no army could even hope to. I don’t agree to fail, to postpone my sobriety for just one more day, I’m actually not deciding anything. It looks like these are decisions I make, am I not the one making all the phones calls , driving at any hour to anywhere i have to in order to get it. I am the vehicle, true, but in the end I’m only a puppet that looks so human you dont even realize it’s not alive. And you cannot understand how a substance can take control of your whole being, and just make you disappear without you even noticing, till you have experienced it. So when I fail, when i don’t succeed, when I look like I decide to just spend one more night having fun and getting high instead of stopping now like i said i was going to, I’m actually not a winner here, and I’m not having fun. I’m losing like everyone around me who hope this time would be the one, and I’m having as hard of a time. Cause I don’t have any control, it always spins out and ends up somewhere I was convince I was not going to end up this time. I always just lose control, a control i thought i had but was never really there. I, myself, am not even there at all. I just cease to exist. And you can’t win or have fun when you are not even there, when you are gone.

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