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.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Show me the honey!
In order to complete this project in a reasonable time , I am going to have to read some every day. Now, that seems like an easy task to accomplish, right? Not so much...Audra and I went to breakfast and grocery shopping this morning and then vegged out on the couch watching "HOUSE" re-runs. Yes, we were on the same couch...not like that, boys. Then, my kids came home and it was dinnertime. Now, here I had an entire day that I could have steeped myself in this project, yet I didn't quite make it to that quiet place to curl up and read...
Something even better happened...
You see, in this endeavor, children's books are included. I thought it would be great fun to read the children's books to my children while tackling the more substantive stuff at the same time. Substantive...hmmm...what was I thinking?
As it got to be bedtime, I gave Henry his tall, glass of milk and Mallory her water and tucked them into their respective comfy beds with blankies and all...and I started to read A. A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh. And they loved it. Henry was full of "hi, mommies," as is his usual bedtime chant. Mallory was asking all the important storyline questions that every 5 year old with a 30 year old's vocabulary should--about the logistics of actually getting the honey from the hive they never mention and how one could accomplish Pooh's feat without being stung. What a delightful way to drift to slumber...
But then I picked up the book again to re-read the parts we had read without the distraction of having to make all the voices. And there really are some important life lessons and parallels in just the first few pages. Now, Pooh, as you might know, is ALWAYS looking for honey. That is his life's quest. He is a bear and they, bears, apparently eat honey at every opportunity. In the passage we read, Pooh hears bees and then sets forth an apparently logical (albeit narcissistic) set of his beliefs that lead him to exactly the truth he desires.
"That buzzing noise means something. You don't get a buzzing noise like that...without it meaning something. If there is a buzzing noise, somebody's making a buzzing noise, and the only reason for making a buzzing noise that I know of is because you're a bee...[a]nd the only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey...[a]nd the only reason for making honey is so as I can eat it."
So, he begins to climb the tree.
Wow. I see so many parallells for many of the rest of us in our own lives. We are seekers of love (or some other addiction), we humans, and many must have it like Pooh needs honey. We hear or see something--or even trick ourselves into thinking we do--and believe that it means what we want it to mean. We set off on a set of beliefs we have created solely for the purpose of making what we want seem logical...just as Pooh somehow gets to the conclusion that bees exist solely for his honey addiction.
Good literature typically has underlying themes and thoughts that give the reader's imagination and own set of experiences a chance for wonder and ponder. Even though written as a children's book and certainly supplying entertainment for my children, it was beautiful food for thought as I set out as I set out singularly in this world.
It has been a while since I have read the classic Winnie the Pooh as I now am, so I am not sure how Pooh Bear makes it with his plight. I will keep you updated. In the meantime, I have to go make sure those bees are making my honey...as they were made to do.
Something even better happened...
You see, in this endeavor, children's books are included. I thought it would be great fun to read the children's books to my children while tackling the more substantive stuff at the same time. Substantive...hmmm...what was I thinking?
As it got to be bedtime, I gave Henry his tall, glass of milk and Mallory her water and tucked them into their respective comfy beds with blankies and all...and I started to read A. A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh. And they loved it. Henry was full of "hi, mommies," as is his usual bedtime chant. Mallory was asking all the important storyline questions that every 5 year old with a 30 year old's vocabulary should--about the logistics of actually getting the honey from the hive they never mention and how one could accomplish Pooh's feat without being stung. What a delightful way to drift to slumber...
But then I picked up the book again to re-read the parts we had read without the distraction of having to make all the voices. And there really are some important life lessons and parallels in just the first few pages. Now, Pooh, as you might know, is ALWAYS looking for honey. That is his life's quest. He is a bear and they, bears, apparently eat honey at every opportunity. In the passage we read, Pooh hears bees and then sets forth an apparently logical (albeit narcissistic) set of his beliefs that lead him to exactly the truth he desires.
"That buzzing noise means something. You don't get a buzzing noise like that...without it meaning something. If there is a buzzing noise, somebody's making a buzzing noise, and the only reason for making a buzzing noise that I know of is because you're a bee...[a]nd the only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey...[a]nd the only reason for making honey is so as I can eat it."
So, he begins to climb the tree.
Wow. I see so many parallells for many of the rest of us in our own lives. We are seekers of love (or some other addiction), we humans, and many must have it like Pooh needs honey. We hear or see something--or even trick ourselves into thinking we do--and believe that it means what we want it to mean. We set off on a set of beliefs we have created solely for the purpose of making what we want seem logical...just as Pooh somehow gets to the conclusion that bees exist solely for his honey addiction.
Good literature typically has underlying themes and thoughts that give the reader's imagination and own set of experiences a chance for wonder and ponder. Even though written as a children's book and certainly supplying entertainment for my children, it was beautiful food for thought as I set out as I set out singularly in this world.
It has been a while since I have read the classic Winnie the Pooh as I now am, so I am not sure how Pooh Bear makes it with his plight. I will keep you updated. In the meantime, I have to go make sure those bees are making my honey...as they were made to do.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
A little project...
My good friend Audra and I were at the bookstore this morning. We both have been a bit down for a "minute" and sensed it would be good to steep ourselves in books. I have always found solace and comfort in books. When I was an awkward kid with crazy curly hair, a thick middle and less than adequate social skills I used to escape into books for hours. Whether it be the Sweet Valley Twins, a Nancy Drew Mystery or the always checked out "Are you there God, it is me Margaret?", I escaped into the pages of books. Even in college, I was a voracious reader, tackling anything and everything because it relaxed me...took my mind off and my body seemed to somehow follow.
Then law school came and reading took on a new meaning to me. It was no longer fun. It was work. Hard work. I read with a pen and a highlighter instead of an open and hungry mind. The assignments each night so voluminous, it was almost impossible to get it all done. And along came the skim....
Law school is 7 years past now and I a just getting to the point where I can read an entire paragpraph. Even if the main idea is easy to spot, I want the other words too. Because life is not just about the main idea. When you read "the supporting sentences," you get so much more. The main ideas are great, they just can't get you through on a blistery winter evening or a hot summer night. Thank goodness for the supporting sentences.
My life has taken an unexpected turn. I am a (nearly) divorced mother of 2 running around like a crazy woman trying to get everyone everywhere they need to be, at the time they need to be there. I am not sure what my family looks like anymore. Ben has the kids as much as I do and I suddenly have found this freedom that I don't recall. I mean, there is plenty to do, but I have some time to pursue me for a minute.
At the bookstore this morning, I (actually Audra) found this book of 501 Must-Read books...and the books are from all genres. I decided to undertake the project of reading ALL of these books and blogging about them over the course of the next year or so. My best friend is always calling me dork...and maybe I am. But the release of just reading for the sake of it is what I need right now. And the intellectualization and just thinking about something other than the law...a jacuzzi bath for my mind.
I am going to read these books and give my feedback, thoughts and insights, while asking for comments from my people...I am reading for the sake of the sport. Please tune in...now where is that highlighter?????
Then law school came and reading took on a new meaning to me. It was no longer fun. It was work. Hard work. I read with a pen and a highlighter instead of an open and hungry mind. The assignments each night so voluminous, it was almost impossible to get it all done. And along came the skim....
Law school is 7 years past now and I a just getting to the point where I can read an entire paragpraph. Even if the main idea is easy to spot, I want the other words too. Because life is not just about the main idea. When you read "the supporting sentences," you get so much more. The main ideas are great, they just can't get you through on a blistery winter evening or a hot summer night. Thank goodness for the supporting sentences.
My life has taken an unexpected turn. I am a (nearly) divorced mother of 2 running around like a crazy woman trying to get everyone everywhere they need to be, at the time they need to be there. I am not sure what my family looks like anymore. Ben has the kids as much as I do and I suddenly have found this freedom that I don't recall. I mean, there is plenty to do, but I have some time to pursue me for a minute.
At the bookstore this morning, I (actually Audra) found this book of 501 Must-Read books...and the books are from all genres. I decided to undertake the project of reading ALL of these books and blogging about them over the course of the next year or so. My best friend is always calling me dork...and maybe I am. But the release of just reading for the sake of it is what I need right now. And the intellectualization and just thinking about something other than the law...a jacuzzi bath for my mind.
I am going to read these books and give my feedback, thoughts and insights, while asking for comments from my people...I am reading for the sake of the sport. Please tune in...now where is that highlighter?????
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