An Addict’s Mind & Nostalgia

I’m torn about nostalgia. I think every addict has to be.

This morning, I happened upon the movie Trainspotting 2, the sequel to the 1996 film based on Irvine Welsh’s novel. T2 came out earlier this year, so there was roughly 20 years between the movies.

I loved the first film. It was one of those movies that helped me define who I was. It came out when I was 20 and ready to take on the world.

My mindset in 1996 wasn’t that I HOPED to make something WORTHWHILE out of myself. It was that I HAD to make something AMAZING out of myself. I wasn’t going to go the route of my friends who either went to college, joined the military or went straight into the workforce. By 20, I had already quit college twice and had a job in journalism most needed a graduate degree to get. The plan seemed to be working.

I saw it in the theater a few times. I remember seeing it in Boston in early autumn 1996 with a group of my brother’s friends. Despite almost all being freshman scattered throughout the northeast, they were still processing the death of a close friend and this mini-reunion a couple of months into the start of their college experience was part of it.

We all went on a Saturday afternoon. I thought they were would love the independent spirit and brash filmmaking style. While the movie centers around the heroin addiction of its four main characters, Trainspotting was really about slapping the world in the face and doing things by your own rules.

When we left the theater, most of our group in shock. The movie was an assault on their senses and they didn’t see beyond the surface message of heroin will not lead to anything positive. I was shocked by their response, but over the next year or two, I came to understand the identical script we all followed for the first 18 years of our lives was about diverge into a million different stories. Until Facebook came along a decade later, it was the last contact I had with most of these people.

I knew a sequel to Trainspotting had been made, but it did so poorly at the US box office that it never made it to Maine and I just have never got into watching movies on Netflix. The only time I ever watch a movie now is in the morning after I bring my son to school and before I start working. This morning, I was flipping around and Starz was just about to begin the film.

I briefly thought about not watching it. Since I’ve been in recovery and simply matured, I find many of the movies of the early-to-mid 1990s that influenced me no longer hold me captive the way they once did. The films I loved Pulp Fiction, Natural Born Killers, The Usual Suspects and yes, Trainspotting almost always mixed crime with addictive behavior. I think part of the adrenaline that turned me onto those movies back then was the adrenaline that helped stoke my addictions.

Even tamer films like Dazed and Confused feel somehow wrong to watch. The person I once was, who is still a ghost inside of me, remembers making them into more than movies. They all played into my belief I could conquer the world with my own rules. Consequences and repercussions be damned, I was special.

Well, fast-forward 20 years and as it turned out I learned you can’t ignore consequences and repercussions and the only thing trying to make myself appear special did was cause a lot more attention when my inevitable fall happened. Those kids who left the theater with me two decades earlier hadn’t lived nearly as fast or crashed anywhere near as hard. I thought that made them lame back then. Now it’s clear they were just far healthier.

I don’t often read reviews of movies and when I do, it’s only after I see them. I don’t want to be prejudiced going into it, but like reading other people’s takes. After watching T2, and living the life I have, it was fascinating to read the reviews because so few people truly understood what happens to addicts – regardless of their substance or behavior – over 20 years, but the movie nails it.

I won’t provide spoilers, other to say I don’t think it found a big audience because I think you had to be a wild child of 18-25 when the movie came out, lived a life of poor choices and regret, and are now somewhere in your 40s, struggling to just make a go of it. Critics complained the youthful exuberance of the first film was replaced by a melancholy resignation.

The movie uses a few clips from the first film, but largely as points by which to jump into the theme that even nostalgia can’t fix the past. The reckless mission-filled energy is recalled for what it actually was: An aimless escape of real life. Had the characters just learned to cope with real life on its terms back then, they wouldn’t be struggling so hard to do it two decades later.

I loved Trainspotting in 1996, but I can barely watch it because I remember who I was when I fell in love with it. Today, I don’t know if I fell in love with T2, but I appreciate the fact a film was made that didn’t keep its characters in their 20-something mindsets, as many critics would have preferred, but allowed them to age and come to the conclusions we all must arrive at.

We talk about our lives in the past tense and we usually recycle it for more than it was worth at the time. That’s nostalgia. When we recycle it for the lessons it can teach, it’s far more valuable. Sometimes it’s just hard to know the difference.

 

 

Preparing Those Close to Me For the Release of My Book

The final edit of my book is taking longer than I thought it would, but that’s OK. I’d rather the publisher take his time and go through it with a fine-toothed comb than put something into the world that is full of mistakes or sentences that make sense to me, but is incoherent to others.

One of the things that this extra time has allowed me is the chance sit down with a couple of people close to me who I haven’t really spoken with in the last few years and give them a chance to ask any questions they may have and fill in the holes between what they heard vs. what they think they know vs. what they actually know.

I don’t want them reading something troubling in the book they had no idea about. It’ll probably be rough enough without surprises.

They didn’t know much about my addictions, both alcohol and porn, because neither involved those who were close to me. The porn was all online and when it involved people, was total strangers. The only time anybody saw me drink alcohol publicly was at professional social functions and while I often had more than I should, nobody saw a falling-down drunk.

With close family and friends, they were mostly kept in the dark. At the extended family Christmas party, there is routinely a bottle or two of wine and a case of beer available. In the 20 years it’s been legal for me to drink, I believe I had a bottle of beer once, about 15 years ago.

I knew that at the core, my drinking was shameful and I didn’t want to put it on display. I couldn’t only have one or two and be satisfied, so why would I start, especially in front of the very people who I wanted to hide my dysfunctional relationship with alcohol from the most. Instead of getting the machine in my head going, it was better to wait to get home and get hammered on the hard stuff, alone.

It was the same way with the porn. I think it is for everybody, but even social events like going to a strip club were things I did solo. If buddies ever brought up porn or anything like that, I took steps to not be part of the conversation. I didn’t want to suddenly blurt, “But I prefer Jess Franco’s style of directing Italian porn films from the late 1970s” and be outed at someone who clearly had a problem.

I was never a Casanova or a guy who hit on the girls, going back to being a child. If a girl showed any interest in me, I tried to steer her toward a relationship, not a one-night-stand. I don’t think there was anything in my demeanor that would suggest to anybody close to me that I had an unhealthy fixation on porn.

Maybe those close to me simply don’t want to accept that I have these addictions and prefer to see the destruction of my life as the result of an isolated incident. I’ve written, re- written, edited, re- written, re-edited and re- written my book so many times, it almost feels like I’m deal with a character and not me at this point. Maybe that’s how they prefer to view it.

Nobody asks graphic or detail-oriented questions. Most don’t know where to start with their questions. I let them know that I was very ill and tell them what I did. I talk about starting the book during the six months I was in jail and how the recovery process has changed me.

I know that they see somebody different, but I think they’re still having trouble assimilating that – despite their belief at the time — they never really knew the person I was.

How We Judge Guilt of Alleged Hollywood Predators Hits Close to Home

Back when I was just starting as a reporter at a newspaper in 1994 or 1995, I fielded a telephone call from somebody who was claiming that their neighbor was doing all kinds of ridiculous stuff to their property. It was a great story, they told it well and I thought it would make for great copy in the next day’s newspaper.

My editor looked at me like I was wasting his time before 10 words got out of my mouth. He asked, “Have they filed a complaint with the police?” I didn’t know, so called the person back. They said they hadn’t. I asked if they were going to. He said that he hoped a story in the newspaper would be enough to shame the guy into behaving. He didn’t really want to get the police involved. I told my editor and he said we wouldn’t be pursuing it. Until the caller was going to document his claim through official channels, we wouldn’t be reporting about it.

Twenty-two years later, apparently Twitter is now an official channel.

I’m having a deep reaction to the ongoing news cycle of sexually inappropriate behavior in Hollywood, Washington and elsewhere, but I guess as someone who was very well-known in his little corner of the world when a similar thing happened to me – coupled with the pings of PTSD I get when talking about it – it would be more surprising if I wasn’t having a reaction.

First things first: Anybody who has criminally violated anybody else sexually should be held accountable in a court of law for their actions, as I was. It shouldn’t matter if it was 25 days or 25 years ago. Statutes of limitations are ridiculous in these cases. How is it that if a perpetrator does something wrong and then outlasts a clock, they get away with it?

I am grateful for the intervention of law enforcement officials which led to my intense introduction to recovery and the journey I continue on today, nearly four years later. I hope that the famous and powerful men who have committed these crimes are able to seriously devote themselves to understanding why they made the choices they did and how to refrain from making them in the future.

I did most of what I was accused of (which you can read about in plenty of other blog entries) and never denied it to police. While I did plead not guilty at first, it was a procedural move made at the advice of my lawyer that 99.9% of defendants make to hopefully end up with a more favorable outcome.

One of the things that I’m feeling watching these stories come out is the sense of helplessness for some of these men who perhaps did not break the law, but made horrible choices, not recognizing the consequences and who will now be paying for it for the rest of their lives. I feel even more helpless for the men who have been accused of either inappropriate or criminal behavior, but perhaps didn’t do it at all.

Take for instance, the case of Charlie Sheen. A friend of Corey Haim, who has been dead nearly a decade, claims that Haim told him that when Haim was a young teen on the set of the 1980s movie Lukas, a much-older Charlie Sheen had sex with Haim. Sheen denied these charges and even Haim’s mother said she knows it wasn’t true.

Ignoring Sheen’s reputation as a womanizer for the last two decades, there appears to be nothing to this case other than a friend of someone who has been dead for years making an unprovable claim. Even Corey Feldman, who is championing a movie to expose pedophiles in Hollywood and was Haim’s best friend, said that he had nothing to support the story.

But can you ignore Sheen’s reputation over the last 20 years? Isn’t that the part that makes the claim seems plausible? If this was a different actor with no womanizing reputation, would you have a harder time accepting it on its surface?

If the assumption is that any person can write anything on Twitter and it is 100% true, we no longer have a need for a criminal justice system. The same goes for any report in the media, whether it’s a liberal or conservative outlet. Reading Twitter reaction or comment sections on various websites shows that this wave of stories is little more than just another tool by which to bash the opposition.

Following my arrest, before I ever made a court appearance, before any evidence ever went to a grand jury or a judge, my case was tried in the court of public opinion. The public didn’t, and still doesn’t know what actually went down and what I did or didn’t do, but for a significant segment of people, those facts were insignificant details. If I had actually been wrongly accused, I don’t think things would have been all that different.

At some point in the near future, this cycle of news stories will slow down. Hopefully workplace culture will change for the better. People behaving criminally sexual need to be brought to justice more often. People like Louis CK – who seemingly didn’t do anything criminal – but based on his position of power made highly inappropriate choices, will hopefully get the message this kind of thing won’t be tolerated any more.

Whether it’s a fiercely conservative, older southern white guy running for office or it’s an openly gay, liberal Asian actor from the most famous science fiction show of all-time (Roy Moore and George Takai, respectively), when we are given a denial, it should then be up to the legal system to prove guilt. In the court of public opinion, I’ve seen people crucifying and vigorously defending both men. The “truth” has little to do with the facts (since all we really have is hearsay) and more to do with what each stands for philosophically.

What will last longer than this news cycle is what continues to happen: We keep moving in a direction where ideas like burden of proof and presumption of innocence being cornerstones of our society and system continue to erode. We are quickly becoming a world where all you have to do is point a finger to take somebody down, justifiably or not, and that’s not a good thing.

In-Patient Rehab was Critical to My Recovery

I’ve heard a lot of people say if you’re not committed to recovery or don’t believe you have a problem in the first place, don’t waste your money on inpatient rehab. I couldn’t disagree more.

When I entered my first facility, Spencer Recovery Center in Laguna Beach, California, I didn’t believe I had a drinking problem at all. A year later, when I arrived at Santé Center for Healing in Argyle, Texas, I didn’t understand just how deep my pornography addiction ran. I am proof that you can enter treatment with a negative or misguided mindset and leave with a very different perspective.

If you’re 100% hell-bent on not learning a thing and you can’t wait to keep doing whatever it is that got you there, odds are you’ll be out the door in the first week anyway. I don’t know what nationwide statistics are on people leaving rehab – either on their own or at the request of the facility – but those who have addictions they aren’t going to address don’t last very long.

The process of rehab is simple and worked on me. They tear you down and then they build you up. That’s greatly oversimplifying it, but they provide an outlet by which you can examine your behavior, habits and addictions with little interference from the outside world. The only people you have quality interaction with are medical, psychiatric and counseling professionals, and your fellow patients.

Simply taking a break from the outside world is good for anybody who is having issues with addiction. It’s certainly no vacation, but unplugging from real day-to-day life is crucial. I don’t know how people make intensive outpatient programs work for them. I needed to be away.

Thankfully, my alcohol detox was mild and I didn’t need one from pornography, but I’ve witnessed some people in real pain. I can’t imagine what that’s like, but once they reach the other side, many have told me they feel better than they have in a long time. We can debate the merits of filling these people with new medication, but having a place for the body to rid itself of poison is huge.

Once cleaned out, the real work begins in accepting the addiction. If you’re like me and didn’t think you had an addiction, they’ll work with you to get there with baby steps. First, I was somebody who didn’t always use alcohol wisely. I could accept that. The leap to “problem drinker” wasn’t that far and when I started getting honest with myself I accepted the idea of “functional alcoholic.” Once you recognize there is no “functioning” addict, it’s not hard to arrive at the fact I had an addiction. This process took me about 8-10 days.

I’m not going to go deep into 12-Step mantras here. You can read my blogs here and here about my experiences with them. Simply being around other addicts, both within the walls of the rehab and in the rooms of AA and SAA proved to me I was not alone. Knowing that allowed me to open up and examine how I got to where I did. For me, it was not a fun process, but it was one that was necessary for recovery.

After being stripped emotionally naked, you’re provided with tools and techniques for hopefully overcoming your specific addiction. Some are the same for all addicts while others are tailored to your exact case.  Eventually, you reach a point where you’ve been there a while and feel invigorated. Those who are near the end of their stays at rehab look like some of the healthiest people on earth from my experience. Or, the juxtaposition of how they looked when they arrived is so great, they can’t help but look like new people.

More than the work done in groups or with the professionals, I think the vast majority of my healing came from spending time with fellow patients. In my case, attending programs that also had people with drug problems, eating disorders and other addictions was crucially helpful.

I’ve only been to two rehabs, so I’m not going to pretend I’m an expert on the programs and amenities at any other than I’ve attended. I’m sure the staff, facilities, food, etc. vary in quantity and quality all over, along with price. One thing I have noticed with the two places I’ve attended and many others I’ve researched is that when they get individual star reviews on places like Facebook or Google, it’s either 1-star or 5-stars. This means it works, or the person didn’t try. A place with an overall review of 2.5 stars is perfect in my opinion.

My therapist said just before I entered my first rehab, “Don’t just play along. Keep your mind open.” I’m glad I did. I’m one of the few who has not relapsed, but even among those who did, I have to believe that they did get something out of their experience. No, it’s not a cure-all – you still have to leave and face the real world, but I would urge anybody with addiction who has the means to absolutely spend time in an inpatient rehabilitation treatment facility.

 

 

Hating My Vices Is Counterproductive to My Recovery

When I talk about my addiction and recovery with people, I often find them start to attack the substances I developed an addiction with. I think this is a distraction to recovery. It’s blaming something else, instead of taking responsibility for myself. I can’t change history, but I can control my future.

I don’t hate pornography. I don’t hate alcohol. I don’t hate work. I don’t hate anything that can claim me as an addict.

Yeah, I’m an alcoholic, work-obsessed porn addict and yes, I understand and fully subscribe to the idea that I have a disease that needs to be managed. But, I also don’t think the world should be without the things I couldn’t handle just because I couldn’t handle them.

There are plenty of non-addicts who hate porn, and there are plenty of reasons to find the material harmful and distasteful. There are studies that illustrate the harmful effects it can have on the mind, relationships and attitudes toward sex and intimacy. There are also plenty of first-person accounts how porn destroyed people’s lives.

But my battle isn’t against the evils of porn. It’s against the evils of addiction.

I recognized the rush that came with looking at pornography going back to being a pre-teen. The first time I saw it was a lot like the first time I felt the buzz of alcohol at 14 or 15. I knew that I had discovered something special – but as years wore on, I also recognized my compulsion toward it was not similar to those around me and probably not healthy.

But here’s the thing, not managing those compulsions is on me.

My story is one of addiction and recovery, not of railing against an immoral industry. I wouldn’t want any of my loved ones starring in or making porn. It seems like part of the entertainment industry that will chew you up and spit you out. I don’t know if the ratio of happy-to-unhappy porn industry veterans is any different than other forms of entertainment, and anecdotally, I feel like I hear a lot more heartbreaking stories than ones of triumph.

Based on statistics of Internet usage, it’s not like pornography is an underground thing, with some studies suggesting that a quarter of all Internet search engine requests are related to pornography. They’re not all coming from some pimply-faced 19-year-old in his mom’s basement home on a Saturday night. Somebody…many somebodies…are using it, dare I say, the right way?

You may think porn is disgusting, gross and scuzzy or it’s the finest example of our First Amendment in action. I can respect both sides. Debates about porn’s place in our society just derails my message that consuming it can grow into a nasty addiction leading down dark roads.

However, just because there are those of us who can’t handle it doesn’t mean it should be eradicated. Or if it should be eradicated, it shouldn’t be because of us.

Did you know there is a Clutterers Anoymous? Debtors Anonymous? Online Gamers Anonymous? They may seem far-fetched to anyone not in them, but I have a feeling the issues those people cope with and the addictive demons inside of them are cousins of those embedded in my DNA.

That said, I want the right to be a hoarder, go into debt and play online games probably as much as those addicts want the right to look at porn, drink alcohol and work 16 hours a day. Simply because a small group has issues with a substance or behavior does not mean that substance or behavior should be banned – unless it’s already illegal for good reasons, like hard drugs.

If I suddenly started eating nothing but fatty bacon and sausage three meals a day, I’d eventually have a heart attack. Is it the fault of the food? No, it’s the fault of me. The food wasn’t ingested in moderation. I let things get out of control and escalate to dangerous levels. I can’t blame the pig, the butcher, the grocer or the restauranteur who served it to me.

My fight isn’t about porn being immoral, degrading, or evil. That’s a political and social argument that has nothing to do with my recovery.

I don’t hate porn. I hate what I let it do to me.

 

The Bond Between Sex Addicts and Those With Eating Disorders

Spending seven weeks during the summer of 2015 at the Sante Center for Healing in Argyle, Texas, was one of the most rewarding, transformational experiences in my life. Since I had been to rehab for my alcoholism 13 months earlier, and spent 10 weeks in that program, I thought I’d be able to breeze in and out of this place, adding to the resume I was trying to build for the judge in my case, showing I was far more ill than evil.

Much like my first experience in California, it didn’t take long before I recognized that while I wasn’t a sex addict in terms of actual intercourse, my decades-long pornography addiction clearly qualified me to be part of Sante’s program.

Sante dealt with four groups of people. There were the traditional drug and alcohol addicts that most rehabs see as their core clientele, but this rehab also dealt with sex addicts and people with eating disorders. They believed that most addicts were cross-addicted and could benefit by having so many resources in one place.

Upon arriving, I never would have thought that I had anything in connection with a female almost half my age whose relationship with food and body image had become toxic. I, frankly, have never really cared what I looked like, maintained a healthy weight with little-to-no diet or exercise, and haven’t met a meal I didn’t enjoy. Forty-eight days later, when I left the facility, they were some of the hardest people to say goodbye to and it’s their stories that stick with me.

The core issues, both with what causes their problems and where solutions exist, are surprisingly similar with sex addicts and sufferers of eating disorders. Many of the same obsessive compulsive urges and impulse control deficiencies with both conditions mirror each other. Cycles of shame, ritual and fantasy are strikingly similar as well.

I’m not going to get into the science of everything. If you want to read more about it, check out Binge Eating, Bulimia and Sexual AddictionThey explain the connection in far less words and far clearer than I ever could.

Where I think we felt the strongest connection was in looking ahead at our lives after leaving Sante. The goal with drugs and alcohol is simple:  Stop. You can’t do that with food and you can’t do that with sexuality. Nobody is ever told that they need to learn to have a healthy relationship with cocaine or meth.

Eating healthy and maintaining a healthy sex life is the post-rehab goal, not completing abstaining. For me, I was using pornography to mask a lot of feelings of pain and rejection, but I was also using it as a surrogate for the real thing. Healthy for me is not using images to soothe, nor to replace physical interaction.

For the folks in the other program, they had to figure out how to consume calories in a healthy way and hopefully change their attitude about what food meant in their lives.

Sex and food weren’t the real problem…what was buried deep within us was. We just used sex and food as a conduit. Unlike those who used drugs and alcohol, we had to figure out how to continue to use these things, but in a healthy way.

Several of the females in the eating disorder program (there was one male) ended up coming to terms with sexual addictions they didn’t think were big problems when they first arrived. It’s easy to point to your main addiction, and explain everything else away as fallout bad choices. It was both impressive and courageous to see these women tackle additional demons.

I think both groups also learned with as much as we surprisingly had in common, that stereotyping anybody with addiction is a mistake. What kind of woman has anorexia? What kind of guy is a sex addict? It’s easy to make broad generalizations until you meet people and hear their stories first-hand. I feel lucky to have had that opportunity.

Some of us were successful when I followed up, others were not. That’s just the story of the people you’ll meet at rehab. It was eye-opening the people I’d meet who I had the most in common with would be from the eating disorder program. It’s a case of not judging a book by its cover, and when it comes to recovery and new ways of thinking, I’ve found an open mindset is the best tool for success.

IF YOU LIKE THIS POST, THERE IS A FOLLOW-UP, WRITTEN IN JULY 2018. READ IT HERE

Until Politicians Understand Addiction, They’ll Never Solve The Problem

More than ever before, I cringe when I hear a politician talk about addiction. Sure, there are plenty serving who are probably hiding addictions to alcohol, gambling, sex or whatever, but these are often the same politicians who rally against help the loudest. I’m not going to get on my soapbox about this hypocrisy today, however.

I cringe because, as I wrote in the most recent blog, if you have not experienced addiction, there is no way to truly understand how it feels inside. At best, the non-addict can see the pain of it in the addicted and witness the fallout of addiction-related decision making. Addiction is a problem, but it’s unlike any other problem out there.

We are now facing an opioid epidemic like never before. Politicians think they can solve the problem, or at least want to tackle it, but they don’t understand the problem to begin with.

There is a logical solution any economist could give you. It’s been proven going after drug dealers doesn’t work. If you want to end the sale of opiates or any other illegal substance, you simply lock-up everyone who has been nabbed using them. The drug user is the customer. If there are no customers, the industry ceases to exist and the dealers have to look elsewhere to make their money. Every industry that has died has seen its customers go away. Why wouldn’t that work here?

The problem to this solution is that plenty of people won’t get arrested and of those who do, they’ll get released someday. If you have an addiction, even if it has strayed into illegal territory, as long as you haven’t harmed another, you shouldn’t be doing a second of jail time. I was not in this category. I deserved what I got because I hurt people with my crime.

I’m not going to pretend to be an expert because while I’m an alcoholic, I have never had an issue with drugs beyond a lot of pot smoking in my early 20s, prior to be properly medicated for bipolar disorder. But, I spent a combined 5 months at inpatient rehabilitation facilities and 6 months in jail living side-by-side with drug addicts.

Addicts have a lot in common. Science suggests that regardless of the addiction, the same basic chemical process happens in the brain. Granted, certain addictions won’t cause the additional physical risk of using drugs, but that undying, incontrollable urge to use drugs is something that any addict can relate to and understand.

Addiction is a symptom of a bigger problem. I can’t remember what book I read it in at this point, but it said something like less than 10% of those suffering with addiction don’t have some kind of mental health issue and/or major trauma in their past. These may both go undiagnosed and unrecognized in the user for years, but they’re present. My understanding of my mental health issues came more than a decade before I was able to admit to and address the trauma that happened in my life as a child.

People without addiction seem to think that if you treat the symptom, the problem will go away. You’d think with almost 40 years of clearly failed drug policy in the United States, they’d go a different route, but the things that all addicts need are the not the things that get votes.

We can stereotype and guess at what our politicians’ stances on mental health and/or addressing trauma are, but do you actually know their positions? Do they know their positions? Does anybody know what’s really being done and how success is being measured? I’m among the 99.999% who can say no, I don’t.

You can deal with a sick tree by poking at its leaves. If the illness is in the roots, all you’re doing is landscaping. If all you’re doing to deal with an addict, drug or otherwise, is trying to get them to stop taking whatever substance or engaging in whatever behavior is your perceived issue with them, all you’re doing is putting a Band-Aid on a gaping, infected wound. It needs to be treated at the source.

I’m not going to get into a giant philosophical partisan political debate because it doesn’t actually solve anything. There are a couple of organizations in this world that have the resources — the money, the brain power, the infrastructure — to solve the great problems that face mankind, but they don’t. The United States government is one of them. A war on drugs, or any addiction, may get votes, but will never work. If we’re going to get to a new level of understanding and solutions with addiction, it needs to be viewed as a humanitarian effort.