One of MY must reads...

So I dropped one of my best friends off at a rehab last week. It is truly an unlikely friendship, but it somehow works for us...really well. Over the past year or so, I have gotten to know my friend while he was deep in the darkness of methamphetamine addiction, a horrible divorce, criminal problems and anger I have scarcely seen before. Somehow in the middle of all of that--and all the chaos and drama in my own life--he has taught me so much about life and true friendship that it is almost unfathomable.

As you may know, I am a criminal defense lawyer. Practicing where I do--deep in the heart of Crank County--many of my clients and cases have methamphetamine as a recurring theme. I mostly ignored it and tried my best to get the least amount of "time" possible for their "sins," help them stay clean long enough to pass a drug test to see their kids, or find them a way at another chance. I lectured and threatened and gave "lip service" to understanding and caring about their addiction. I really did, and do, care, but I just didn't understand it like I thought I did. Now, keep in mind, I am pretty much a straight kid. Never used drugs. Saw pot for the first time with an Exhibit Sticker on it--well into my 20s. I have had somewhat of a love affair with drinking, but nothing that really ever interfered with my life or caused me much trouble other than a hangover. But drugs...they are dirty...not me.

After I started to become closer to my friend and see how his life was being destroyed by methamphetamine, I got curious. Not the kind of curious that made me want to try the shit, but the kind of curious that made me want to find out more about it. As I am the dork he always calls me, I bought a book. It is a bit humorous to look at my bookshelf. You can learn my passions AND my fleeting interests by simply perusing my book collection. You would learn that I LOVE to cook when you see the volumes of cookbooks and that I am often depressive with all the self-help books. It would be no secret that the silly CLEP OUT OF CHEMISTRY was once when I was certain I was going to skip all the pre-requisites for medical school and save myself some time...Got to page 3 of that one. I digress.

So I bought the most obvious methamphetamine memoir on the shelf called "TWEAK." (Now, I know this is supposed to be my thoughts on books someone says are must reads; however, I consider this book a must-read and this is my blog and perhaps it has been said I can be narcissistic anyway.)

The book's author, Nic Sheff, has an amazing way to bring you into his life and the hell of it. And the thoughts he provokes are both insightful and kind of scary to me. He sums up the downward spiral with the following simplicity: "All my values, all my beliefs, everything I care about, they all go away the moment I get high." That's it. Take in the monster and you become the monster. I saw that so many times with my friend, it hurts to remember. Cancelled plans, several day disappearances, angry outbursts, ancillary criminal activity, disregard for my feelings...it was all there.

Sheff further goes on with striking similarity: "I loved drugs. I loved what they did for me. They relieved me of that terrible sense of isolation I had always felt. They gave me the manual for life... I could not, NOT give that up." Wow. I started to think maybe I was a misguided druggie. I mean, I know my friend was using drugs for those very reasons, but what about me. Maybe it isn't anything illegal, but I certainly have vices that relieve me of my sense of isolation...the feeling that has always been there. Maybe I was supposed to be a user. Instead, I obsessed on achievement and attainment with a fervor of an IV injector...just not to feel isolated.

"I always get so overwhelmed trying to do everything perfectly. I can't do a job and not put everything I have into it. I need to be the best employee, the best coworker, the best whatever. I need everyone to like me and I just burn out bending over backward to make that happen. Having people be mad at me is my worst fear. I can't stand it. There is this crazy fear I have of being rejected by anyone--even people I don't really care about. It's always better to leave them first, cut all ties, and disappear." At this point in the book, I forget that I started reading the book to learn about my friend and it somehow starts to teach me lessons about myself. "...[F]ix the outsides and maybe my insides won't be such a dark place." $800 shoes, $3,000 handbags, 2 Porsche's....do I feel better yet?

It seems we may all have some of the same feelings, thoughts, hurts, fears---just deal in different ways. Maybe we have more in common with humankind than just physiology. If thoughts are truly put in the mindless actions we partake in each day, it could be there are more coping similarities than we would ever care to admit.

My friend--someone who is thoughtful, kind, loving, charming, funny and a supremely amazing person without the shit--has started an uphill journey to battle his addiction. I will be there for him...understanding a little better than I ever thought I possibly could understand.

I just finished the book. Maybe we are not all that different after all.