It was four o’clock in the morning and I was due at work in just a few short hours. I’d been smoking cocaine all night and as long as there was some left there was no way I’d stop. I was going to call in sick yet again. Every time I’d bang out, co-workers would joke, “Timmy caught the cocaine flu again!” I’d feel guilty for putting everybody out but not guilty enough to stop using and straighten out. 

Deep in the throes of my addiction to cocaine, I reflected on how deep my involvement was. I was dealing the stuff, snorting it, smoking it and at one point stayed up for four days straight doing nothing but hit after hit after hit. I’d do anything for the shit and it was coming to define me. 

Hijacked

People describe addictions as phenomenon that highjacks the brain. And, this is true as different substances change the cellular structure of the central nervous system and dependence occurs. 

Another way to think about addiction is to consider the highjacked value system. Any person with substance use disorder can testify chapter and verse to the truth of this. Once the body becomes dependent on the substance, the physical and psychological desire for the drug overwhelms reason and logic to the point of ruin. Our lives become reductive as external things, relationships, jobs and even money become less meaningful and the substance retains absolute value. Once cocaine got its hooks into me there was no telling where I’d end up.

I was raised to value honesty, have a good work ethic and knew that stealing and violence were considered immoral. These ideas were reinforced in school and in the greater community surrounding me. I internalized these ethics as the right things to live by.

Hurt and Seeking Escape

But, I was also a hurt kid. My father’s alcoholism and his broken relationship with his father created a wellspring of sneering rage and constant verbal abuse. When hungover or angry he’d be violent, and I was the usual receptacle of his rage; a face-numbing slap, a kick in the ass or punches. I internalized his anger, felt ashamed of myself and in addition to struggling with depression and anxiety, my self-esteem was butchered. 

By the time I was a teenager, I was desperate to escape. My first buzz gave me that relief—and so much more. My early experiments with alcohol and weed ameliorated my emotional suffering. The first time I caught a buzz was with my buddy from down the street, Bobby Mathews. We both had very troubled alcoholic fathers. Bobby had been helping his elderly neighbor with some house chores and had discovered a cellar full of wine, beer and liquor. He liberated a six pack and invited me to split it with him. Together, we’d stumbled upon a respite of peace and enchantment. I was grateful to him for including me. I finished my second beer I felt a pleasant warmth in my chest. 

“This is fuckin’ great, man,” I said.

“Yeah, it is.” Bobby pulled the last two cans from their plastic rings and tossed one to me.

By the time I finished my third beer, my face was smeared with a loopy grin. Bobby and I erupted in a deep belly laugh, two kids finding momentary escape from the emotional poverty of our childhoods. For the moment anyway anger, fear and self-loathing were banished —everything was alright.

Self Medication

What followed was years of self-medication, alcohol and an assortment of various drugs in an effort to deal with the emotional pain of my trauma. In my early twenties I started using cocaine to try to balance my increasingly sloppy, blackout drinking. Then, I made the single worst decision of my life to smoke cocaine. This created a ravenous insatiable need for nothing but more. Suddenly things that mattered, didn’t matter at all. Being a husband and a father and all the responsibilities related to those roles were relegated to a distant backseat with a pile of other neglected priorities. I would work sometimes, but only as long as it didn’t get in the way of my smoking cocaine. I just had to have more. 

Money was just paper shit I traded in for cocaine. All its other uses, ones that are considered integral to most people, such as food, shelter and diapers for my daughter became secondary to my drug habit. The most important thing became getting more. Things that I prided myself on not doing, became things that I did, all the time: Lying, stealing, using during the day and using at work. Cocaine hijacked my beliefs and values and preoccupied my thoughts. People who loved me and who I loved in return became chess pieces I manipulated to get more cocaine. 

More and Consequences be Damned!

 Wanting more, having to have more and putting it ahead of things that are important eventually means you end up in a shit pile. You can see it coming, but you lie to yourself and tell yourself that somehow you can manage, or maybe you tell yourself you’ll worry about all that stuff later after you get done doing more. I’ll get high first and let my future self worry about the consequences. When the high and I’d crash, crushing guilt would follow. And then, one day you realize that your life has become completely unglued and all the things you ignored, took from, lied about and stole from are gone.

For me this meant divorce, loss of custody for a time, health issues, bankrupting myself and having the IRS come after me. I was overwhelmed by the consequences of my use. My life was scorched earth. I woke up one morning exhausted and hungover after having drunkenly lost my temper at a family gathering. I had to be restrained from going after my estranged wife. The shame was a hefty weight. I realized I had no answers for myself. Cocaine and alcohol had stripped my of my dignity and self-respect. It was time for a change.

Freedom

I made a few phone calls and got myself into treatment. Treatment wasn’t easy, my body and mind still screamed for alcohol and cocaine and I wasn’t confident I could recover. But every day I dug in and learned what I could. I started to face the emotions I’d been running from for years. When I completed the program, I came out and worked hard on my recovery. I rebuilt the values stolen from me by alcohol and cocaine: honesty, responsibility, family, loyalty and work ethic. 

I got out of treatment and prioritized my recovery every day by going to meetings, therapy and group therapy. I took the counsel of others who had years of recovery. My first year was a rock fight as I finally faced the consequences of my use. There was a lot of mess to clean up, but slowly, things got better. Eventually I could look myself in the mirror and be proud of what I saw.

I stay sober today knowing that recovery equals freedom. I never want alcohol and cocaine to take control of my life again.