ADDICTION. . . Let’s talk about it.

 

It’s a very hot topic right now, and I find myself starting to get real concerned that the true matter is not being addressed or reported with the proper respect, knowledge and connection that it should be. So, I said screw it! I’ll give it a shot. The goal here is to hopefully contribute something positive and optimistic to the movement of overcoming an internal battle so strong that most can’t even find the suitable words to thoroughly describe their pain. I also hope NOT to add any more fuel to this already burning “Hate Fire” that is ravaging the world from the inside out, regarding this particular subject matter. This should be fun . . .  A person once asked me, how I “personally” would define my addiction? I didn’t have to think very long at all before replying with an answer, because let’s face it, “personally,” (which is the key word here) It’s all I can fucking think about! So, allow me to dive right in. My words . . .

 

Over my years in life, I have loved cocaine, weed, caffeine, Adderall, cigarettes, ecstasy, every pain pill known to man, exercise, women, masturbation and complete, motionless drunken sleep . . . And surprisingly, I’m not addicted to any of the things listed above. Shocking, I know! Once again, myself (personally) I have one very strong and sometimes overpowering addiction to my beloved alcohol. So, when asked to detail it, I finally had a stage to voice my thoughts.

 

My alcohol addiction could best be described as a very young and immature baby wolf. You see, that wolf, though he may be just a little baby; It is still a Goddamn WOLF, nonetheless! I have learned to somewhat control that wolf in the most basic of terms. Those terms being that I haven’t allowed that baby wolf to eat me alive just yet. However, many, many and I do mean many times! That baby wolf has bitten and attacked me to the most savage degree, and yet, I have mastered the art of learning to temporarily bandage myself up and give it another go at this crazy little thing called life. My longest period of sobriety thus far in life has been 136 days. Sure, in the eyes of others, might not seem like much of a braggadocious feat at all. But on the contrary, for myself. It was no easy task by any means. You see, the fact about that baby wolf is this. Sure, you can slightly tame him, maybe even teach him a couple tricks, but eventually, that wolf is gonna need to eat! I have attempted to live completely sober three times now, and one concrete element stands true through all three attempts. You can talk that wolf down from a fit of rage, buy it a comfy bed to rest his weary head, even feed that wolf the most delicious of positive food and vibes . . . But that fucking wolf wants one thing and one ting only! ALCOHOL!

 

So as time ticks off the clock hanging high on the wall, and days fall off the calendar faster than the unwanted pounds of a fat kid in boot camp; that wolf sits dormant. Silently that wolf waits in the shadows as you stagger along on the straight and narrow. I can feel the wolf, but most importantly, I can feel the wolf eating something. I don’t know what he’s eating? Because I know I’m not feeding the Goddamn savage. But that wolf is finding something to munch on until he knows he can fulfil his vicious and violent appetite. Perhaps the wolf is feeding on some repressed memory I forgot I pushed down there. Or maybe, you ran into someone you used to truly love, adding insult to injury, you saw them with someone new. And wouldn’t you know it, they are properly happy! Now, by seeing them, that has brought to light some feelings for the wolf to nibble on while he penitently awaits the soon and inevitably long fall to rock bottom. The wolf is smart . . . Very smart! By now he knows me better than I know myself. So rather than attack at the first sign of a broken moment, he decides to grab just what he can drag back to the shadows before being caught and punished. A cunning little wolf, he quietly builds strength and sharper teeth in the dark while I allow the sunshine to bless my skin and life as I know it to present itself to me in the most beautiful of memories . . .

 

As you can imagine, it doesn’t take very long for this wolf to do a little growing up of his own, and begin once more to hone his already venomous hunting skills. The wolf knows his day to perfectly feed and gorge himself is coming, so he sits and waits. Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock! 136 days is all it took! 136 days for that wolf to gain enough running speed to sneak up on me and take me down to the ground with a direct and tearing bite to the throat. 136 days and that son-of-a-bitch took me down with the most ferocious attack this side of the Mississippi! I don’t blame the wolf at all; The little fucker was bred to hunt and kill. It’s in his DNA! I just thought I was running a little faster the whole time. Nevertheless, the wolf got the best of me one night and finally took ahold. Now, I won’t go into detail about the night, because this is about moving forward, not backwards. But I can say this. I was out for about 6 hours, and in that time frame I managed to drink away money I needed to pay my bills, handle my jobs and even drank away some money that wasn’t even mine. I got threatened with physical violence, got kicked out of not one, but TWO strip clubs. Made about 30 questionable phones calls to someone who did not want to hear from me at all. And I woke with an aching head, vomit-covered clothing and a hangover that was just fucking terrible. No other way to put that one . . .

 

So, you ask me about addiction? And I say what addiction? 

 

“I’m just trying to stay ahead of the wolf!”

 

The reason I decided to write this, wait, no . . . The many, many reasons I decided to write this will remain inside me until the end of my days. But, I can tell you this. With the birth of the internet, also came the explosion of an open platform for idiots, morons, hate mongers and dipshits to spew hate, twisted point of views and almost always; UNWELCOMED OPINIONS! And before you jump to judgment, I am not included in that category. This is not an opinion piece, that was a story I just gave you! You see, If I learned anything about art, one of the most important things surrounded art, I learned from Quincy Jones. Who once said; “He creates art with his music, contributing something beautiful to this world, that he knows he will never get paid back for.” I’m paraphrasing, but the message is there. So, one reason I decided to write this is anger. Why Ryan? Why are you angry, you ask? I follow someone on Instagram who just recently chose to open himself up and share a little personal information about himself and his recovery. Tank.Sinatra is his handle, and he likes to spread jokes and joy. When revealing something about himself to the public of being 16 years sober. Of course, without fail, the first thing that happens is some dipshit decides to write in with an unwanted opinion of how he believes addiction works. In his words of course, saying that addiction is not a disease. Cancer, AIDS, shit like that is a disease. Which he is right there, but then goes on to add more hate to his already burning candle of ignorance and volatile behavior. Calling people who struggle with something like addiction, weak, sad, pathetic, cowards, and so on. This persons names does not deserve validation, so for the sake of the story, we will call him “Shitty McDick Pants” 

 

You see, Shitty McDick Pants, made a terrible mistake! He spoke before he had real knowledge, life experience, from what I could tell from his sentence structure, proper education, and anything linking him to this particular subject matter. He also made a mistake having me catch his ass slipping while I’m participating in “Sober October.” So, if I could, allow me to go in on this little guy for a bit. My question is this: “Does disease know that it is disease? Does Cancer know that it is Cancer? Does AIDS know just how terrible it really is?” The answer is no! Disease, of any form, is not self-aware, has no SS#, has no material value or net worth. A disease just moves in, kills, and moves on. It moves in, kills, and moves on. That’s it! That is the process. Sure, we can manage some of them better than others, but for the most part. When a strong and powerful disease moves in and takes hold, death really is the last fight before it moves out and on to the next. Addiction as a disease is a hard sell, and I’m not going to try and justify that little argument. It does start as something harmless and innocent in the beginning, but over years and years, can take much different and extreme effects on different individuals. We are all wired a little differently, and some have more demons plaguing them than others. It’s really that simple. But, for Shitty McDick Pants to chime into a world that he knows nothing about, to give his two cents was not only foolish, it was downright distrustful for the millions of lives lost to addiction. Not to mention the countless hours of research that has been done around this topic. He shot down an entire world of people, and he never even opened a book. All he decided to do was state his fucking opinion of how he categorizes an addict. No resources, no education and no personal experience. Welcome to the internet . . .

 

I will not go on much further about Shitty McDick Pants, because that doesn’t help anything. But, after reviewing his page, he strikes me as a very early 20’s kid that thinks he’s got it all figured out. Which brings me to my next point! If you’re under 25, then do us all a favor and just keep your fucking mouth shut about how you believe life works. Get some time under your belt, life through some horrible shit, learn, grow, evolve, hit rock bottom. Then, and only then, come back with your Goddamn opinion! If you haven’t guessed by now, I am a writer. I recently published a book, and this is not a shameless plug. But, after telling people I wrote a book. Do you know what 100% of the people reply with? Can you guess it? . . .  “I could write a book” . . . It is what every single person says. Without fail, 100% of the time. Let me get right to it, I will just say it. No, no you cannot write a book! If you could, you would. It is as easy as that. And furthermore, maybe you’re just not that interesting. So, save it! Don’t talk about it, be about it. It’s like the 300-pound fat guy on a Sunday watching football, drinking beers and eating hot wings saying “I could be a football player.” No! No, you cannot! If you could, you would. Simple! I don’t bring my car to the mechanic to tell him how to fix it. You dig? I speak about what I really know from an educated position, an open mind, and most importantly, through experience. Anything you COULD do in this world, you would be doing it right now. You would be living it. We as humans, only do what we can do. Only what we thrive to push our bodies and minds to do. Saying we can do something without ever having a single second of training, passion or love towards that thing, belittles the people working very hard and tirelessly to achieve greatness and it helps the person on the sidelines sleep at night. Less talk, more work, how about that, people? Just a thought . . .

 

Now, to close this off with something to think on . . . The beauty of this world, comes from the simple fact that we are not all alike. The physical, mental and emotional diversity of this world is what makes it so fucking special. We all parade around thinking that we got all the answers, but in the face of chaos and mayhem, you’ll learn that most people are just talking out their ass. It’s in those moments that people like Shitty McDick Pants finally start to see the world as it truly is. He starts to see himself as he truly is . . . The human disease, that he has shown us that he truly is. Because just like Cancer and AIDS not being self-aware; Neither is Shitty McDick Pants. If you don’t understand the definition of disease, have no fear, I will share it. But, before I do, my final point. If you’re only way to feel powerful in this world, is to hate, crush and destroy on different points of views, just because they do not coincide with yours, is very toxic and hurtful for further progression in this world. I honestly do not mind what any one chooses to believe it, because it does not affect me. As long as it helps them to be a better person in this messy world, then who are we to say otherwise, right? This is not a personal attack Shitty McDick Pants, consider this a virtual bitch slap. Just an open-handed bitch slap, nothing crazy. Hopefully enough to teach you that not everyone thinks like you, and that is what makes the world so special. So, if you want to hold an opinion, then make sure you have some ground to stand on before you decide to voice it. Pretty please, with sugar on top, have some facts behind it, make your argument valid by showing proof, history on the subject, and for fuck sakes, have some Goddamn life experience! Oh no, Ryan is cyber bullying . . . Well fuck, Shitty McDick Pants started it! I hope this helps at least one person deal with addiction. Goodnight, cruel world!

 

 

 

Disease 

As defined — As promised

 

A disordered or incorrectly functioning organ, part, structure, or system of the body resulting from the effect of genetic or developmental errors, infection, poisons, nutritional deficiency or imbalance, toxicity, or unfavorable environmental factors: illness; sickness; ailment.