Pubdate: Tue, 26 Aug 2003 Source: Daily Times, The (TN) Copyright: 2003 Horvitz Newspapers Contact: http://www.thedailytimes.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/1455 Author: Steve Wildsmith DRUG CRAVINGS NEVER GO AWAY Just For Today I get asked a lot if I still think about getting high. The answer is a resounding ``yes.'' Maybe not every day, which is progress from the early days of my recovery, when it was on my mind constantly. But I still think about it from time to time. There is no cure for drug addiction. There's no magic pill that will remove that part of our brains that craves something, anything, to alter our perceptions of reality. All we can do is be diligent about our recovery, which is the most proven method I've found for arresting my addiction. That doesn't mean it goes away. That's a fallacy too many addicts, and too many loved ones of addicts, fall victim to. They believe that being clean for an extended period of time is the same as being cured. They feel that because they've done 28 days in a treatment facility, everything is going to be OK. I'll be blunt -- it's not. Things might be better than they were, but without some sort of spiritual, mental and emotional maintenance to keep the addiction at bay, things will get pretty far from OK real quick. I've said before -- just because I'm blessed enough to share my experience, strength and hope in this column doesn't make me any sort of professional when it comes to addiction. I'm not a counselor, psychologist, therapist or priest. I'm simply a recovering drug addict. And without maintaining my recovery, I'm just as capable of getting high as the addict who's still using daily. Addiction is a cunning, baffling and powerful disease. Its most insidious trick is convincing us that we don't have a disease. That, because we've been through rehab or have some clean time, we can control it -- that we can have one drink or one pill or one hit. That's a lie, and I know it. I've never been capable of doing one of anything. Even today, when I stop by the convenience store to buy something, I'll usually get two -- two Cokes, because what if I drink one before I get to where I'm going and I'm still thirsty? Two packs of cigarettes, because what if I run out and haven't had time to buy another? That's the addict's mentality -- more is always better. I could be directing a tractor-trailer full of drugs into my driveway, and instead of wondering how I'm ever going to take or smoke or drink everything that trailer holds, I'm worrying about when the next truck is going to arrive. I can't do one. I've never been able to do that -- it's a foreign concept to me. I still can't fathom how a person can go to a bar and drink a single beer. My mind can't grasp the point -- because to me, drinking is about imbibing enough to feel differently, and once it gets me feeling good, I keep going because I want to feel even better. And after 13 years of living that kind of lifestyle, it's not going to change overnight. The 12-step program of which I'm a member teaches us that we didn't become addicts in one day, and we're not going to recover in one day, either. So yes, I still think about getting high, and the funniest things trigger those thoughts sometimes. I see a weightlifter at a restaurant and admire the veins bulging along his forearms and think, ``I'd never have trouble finding a vein again when I'm shooting up.'' I'll be at the pharmacy, buying a birthday card or film, hear the pharmacist call a customer to the back to pick up a prescription and wonder what sort of pills they'll be taking home with them. I drive by the methadone clinic early in the morning, when the addicts are in line for their government-supplied fix, and wonder if any of them are selling their supply in the back parking lot. But because of recovery, those thoughts don't turn into obsessions or cravings. It's kind of like seeing a nice car -- you think, ``I'd like to have a car like that,'' but you're not going to run out and steal one. I'm not responsible for my disease, but I am responsible for my recovery. And recovery has taught me I don't have to act out on those thoughts. And because of recovery, I'm ever mindful of the hell I pulled myself out of, and the miracles God is working in my life -- just for today. Steve Wildsmith is a recovering addict and the Weekend editor for The Daily Times. His entertainment column and stories appear each Friday in the Weekend section. - --- MAP posted-by: Josh