Life… On Its Own Terms

What a stunning year it has been. [Cousin] and [fiancee] got married. [Niece] and [littlest sister] are in their one-and-only senior years of high school (and each is an officer in her school, may I add?). Dawn launched a new career. Mimi received her final, can’t-take-it- back American citizenship. For some of us, the changes have been broad; for others, like me, they have been more intrapersonal, but no less instrumental. I am deeply grateful for everyone’s generosity toward me this past year.  

I am sharing now because when I did get help, I realized how little I knew. While statistics strongly argue that addiction touches every family on the planet, I couldn’t think of anyone to call in our family who shared my situation, and I really wished I could. So, I am offering to talk to anyone who has a question or is simply curious. 

My particular problem is with a class of prescription medication known as benzodiazepines: valium, xanax, and their relatives. I first took them a while ago, to make a long plane flight more palatable. Over time I took them more regularly, to help with sleep (Ambien is in this class of medicine), long flights, stresses… the all-too-typical reasons.  

I always got the prescriptions from the same doctor, who assured me I was taking them appropriately; I point that out not to excuse myself, but to illustrate how easy it is to get such things and to underscore the importance of not assuming that doctors can stand guard. I understood what “potentially habit forming” on the label meant, but it wasn’t until I decided to stop that I fully grasped how dependent I was. Trust me here: as custodian of a career, a house, pets, and most importantly, a child, I would never have done this intentionally, and I am all too aware of how insidious this can be.  

For me, this has also meant adjusting my ideas of who and what an addict is. I never though about this much, and when I did, I pictured heroin-addled skeletors or cocaine-amped movie stars or bums under bridges clutching brown paper bags (alcohol is the most widespread addiction). I certainly never thought I’d have anything in common with Lindsay Lohan (of Michael Jackson, for that matter). Addiction has a strong genetic component, but heredity alone certainly isn’t responsible: as the saying goes, genetics loads the gun, but environment pulls the trigger. We are not all dirty and dissolute; we come in all ages and with all sorts of bank balances, hobbies, religious views, and degrees (even PhDs, incidentally). 

Despite how common it is, it would be disingenuous to pretend that addiction no longer carries a social stigma (so, needless to say, conversations are confidential!). My phone number is 555-555-5555, and my email address is itsownterms@gmail.com. I am happy – eager – to talk, if you’re curious, concerned for yourself or someone else, or just want to write a term paper about it or impress your friends with addiction trivia. Or just want to hear the enthralling story of how I spent my summer vacation.  

That story could have taken such a dramatically different turn if I hadn’t landed in a family full of the most amazing and delightful people. There have been many gifts in all of this. For me, the most marvelous gift has been the power of the love our family harbors. People drove for hours to visit me, sat through lectures to learn about addiction, wrote cards and letters of encouragement, prayed with me, and listened to me talk for hours about the same old topic. These are gifts of the most valuable sort, ones wrapped not in bright paper but in the very best kind of love. Most, most, most invaluable: Mimi spent a secure, fun-filled summer with her aunts, grandparents, dad, and cousins. I hope these treasured connections stay with her forever. I feel blessed.  

I have decided that the best thing for me is to face this head-on and to not be too ashamed of the basic fact of it, while taking responsibility for where I go from here. Many things in my life will change. Addiction is about so much more than the physical dependence, although that is the first, very hard hurdle to overcome. I do not know exactly what the details of my life will look like from here (and really, who does) but I do know that the textures of life and my daily habits have changed: what I find important and how I nurture that. The rest involves the usual advice we get, and which I never really heeded, to live as healthfully as possible (I sleep more now that I ever have, and I like it), have more fun, deepen spiritual practices (for me, this means a closer connection with God), and attend to friendships and relationships. It is these things, after all, that fortify me against the environmental factors that led, in my case, to medication; addiction thrives on the stressed-out soul.  

Step one, for me, is to reach out. You all know me well enough to know that I have made this as academic an exercise as possible. So, I am loaded with addiction frippery, from the ridiculous to the sublime. I think I’m drawing dangerously close to sounding preachy and didactic, so I’ll stop here. I’ll pitch my offer and look forward to any conversations that come my way. Please, the door is open. Take care. Love, Robin