Rock Bottom

Just the other day, my mom was on the phone with a cousin of mine.  I would like to think that my cousin and I used to be pretty close.  We played as children, and I went to her wedding.  But like most of my family members, she is now estranged from me and we don’t speak.  It is my fault, of course (I say that with no sarcasm) but she does talk to my mom occasionally.  

Inevitably I came up in the conversation.  The typical exchange “well how is he” and “oh, you know, still fighting” was something I overheard.  Then my mom started laughing and said “well, one can hope”.  After the call I asked my mom what was so funny.  She told me that my cousin said that I would need to hit rock bottom in order to get better.  

Then we both had a laugh.  A real gut busting laugh.  Why?  Because we are the only people who know one thing:  I don’t have a rock bottom.  I have had dozens of experiences that any sane person would view as a rock bottom, but not for me.

Rock bottom.

The term that conjures up images of individuals sitting alone, head in hands, completely lost.  Feelings of embarrassment, guilt, and shame are running through the brain.  The only voice you hear is one of despair saying repeatedly I really messed up.  I can’t do this anymore.  I can’t go on like this.

I could go on and illustrate a bunch of potential rock bottoms for all the flavors of addiction that are out there.  I am sure you can imagine what a rock bottom may be for someone with any addiction.  And hitting rock bottom gives you the motivation to change once and for all.  To turn your life around.  

Right off the bat, I have a problem with rock bottom.  For one thing, it is really hard to define, as it is completely different for everyone.  So I offer a better definition for rock bottom:  When a person has met one, or all of 3 different pain thresholds, then they have hit rock bottom.  These pain thresholds are Mental, Physical, and Spiritual pain.

Odds are, that if an addict hits one or more of these thresholds, their conditional rock bottom will be met.  For some, the physical is enough.  They get sick and tired of being sick and tired.  The headaches, the nausea, the shakes and bloodshot eyes, the nightmares and exhaustion.  They have a low threshold for physical pain, and it becomes enough.  For others, it is the mental.  They can no longer stand how people view them, the lost relationships, the loneliness, the feelings of guilt, shame, and imperfection become overwhelming.

Then there is spirituality.  I admit, I first started working on this theory of thresholds when I was in a behavioral modification program.  We had lots of time to think while in there.  Spirituality was not on my list.  Up to that point, it really had only been mental and physical.  But I met a guy who was devastated because he felt he had lost his God.  The guy was Mormon, and the stories he told me of his depravity made me look like a cupcake.  He had no physical or mental pain threshold at all, but the perceived loss of his God was unbearable for him.  So, I decided right then that I needed to add a third threshold for spirituality.

So, for ease of writing, when I mention “rock bottom” it really means that one or all of your pain thresholds have been met.

But what if a person exists for which there is no rock bottom?  For whom the very concept of rock bottom is a facade, the reality of it never witnessed.  Never experienced.  My father was one such person.  As am I.  For those of us who do not possess this mythical rock bottom, there are only a few paths out of our predicament.  Death, imprisonment, or finding out what the one thing that exists within you, that has the power of a “rock bottom” that can put the brakes on a spiraling addiction.

My father, having no rock bottom, chose death.  Astute readers may get hung up on that statement, because it implies that he willingly and knowingly chose death.  That debate, on choice and death, is far too heady of a topic to address here and now.  For now, just assume that he did choose to die, simply by default because he certainly did nothing to stop it.

Many others (I have known quite a few) chose prison.  Ok, maybe they didn’t exactly choose to go to prison, but rather chose to engage in risky behaviors to support their addiction, the penalty for getting caught being imprisonment.  In my mind, that equates to choosing to go to prison.

Then there are a rare few who simply decided one day, without any major crash, without any rock bottom being hit, that there is something that motivates them enough to stop their addiction cold.  Because there becomes a realization that the addiction is preventing them from reaching that thing.  And it could be anything.  However, it must be strong enough to give someone a very distinct and powerful thing:  Purpose.

Take for example me.  I learned long ago that I had no rock bottom, and death was the likely outcome for me.  I saw a synergy in it, like the universe wanted this for me as it was for my father.  There was a peace in it, a sort of resolve at least knowing there was an end to my suffering.  That gave me a strange feeling of power which manifests when someone has so little to lose.  I engaged society with increasingly less caution, participating in riskier behavior that put me in the crosshairs of law enforcement.

Now here I have to interject.  I never committed anything that would risk a felony charge, unless you count getting behind the wheel of a car drunk (and is among my deepest regrets) which could have easily resulted in harming someone else.  The thing is, I was, and am, terrified of prison.  Prison scares me worse than death.  So, I chose to push the boundaries on existing in society to the point at which I got arrested many times, but never for felony charges.  Yet, it never was a strong enough fear to keep me from drinking.

Which leaves us the final path out.  Purpose.  While in my most recent inpatient stays in a program, I identified purpose as being key for me, and maybe others, to finally be able to quit drinking and drugs.  I reasoned that if my purpose was strong enough, maybe I simply wouldn’t need to drink or use any more.  That was roughly 1 year ago as of the writing of this post.  I have now spent a year searching for my purpose.  Have I been perfect in terms of not using drugs or drinking?  No.  I did manage to quit drugs, and the drinking moved from daily to more of a binge drinking pattern, which eventually fizzled out as I started zoning in on my purpose.

I believe I have it now, and it is all of you.  The readers of this blog, and hopefully, eventually video logging and podcasting as I get more comfortable putting myself out there.  I really feel like I have learned some important things in my journey, much of which I don’t see or read about in our society.  And I am beyond grateful that I finally have something that interests me enough and can maybe help others with understanding true addiction, that I can live a sober life again.

Peace and strength, yours truly, Christian.