I just found out that the young daughter of a family friend lost her life to a drug overdose. Another one. Another life lost. I can’t even count how many in my circle of family and friends that makes in the past six months. I just know it’s too many. And it’s got to stop.

I am a recovering addict. I know, only too well, the road an addict travels. It’s not fun. It’s not pretty. It’s full of loss. Guilt. Pain. Anger. Despair. So many people think it’s a matter of will-power. Or choice. So many people look at an addict with loathing and contempt. Trust me, the self-loathing and self-contempt we feel when using cannot even be described or compared to what you may feel about us. Still we cannot stop. The nature of addiction is a disease. It’s not a matter of “won’t stop”. It’s a matter of “can’t stop.” Until we have nothing left to lose. And not without drastic measures. Not without hitting rock bottom. Not without giving up the old life and starting a new life. Not without embracing the adage, “one day at a time.” Still there are many who do not find their way to a new life. And therein lies the tragedy.

The epidemic of heroin use these days is shocking to me. Back in the 70’s when I was in high school, pot was the big drug of choice, with maybe some ‘shrooms or acid thrown in the mix. In my 20’s, when I experimented with my drug of choice – and eventually became addicted – it was cocaine. As long as you didn’t shoot heroin you could safely say you were not a drug addict. Heroin was the hard core drug of hard core addicts. It was not something people did for kicks. Now, it seems that heroin is the drug of choice. I am told it’s cheap. You don’t need a needle anymore. It’s readily available. But the drug is still the same, seductive, murderess it ever was.

So they came up with a way to reverse an overdose. Narcan. I have such mixed feelings about Narcan. Narcan does save lives. It can stop another tragedy from happening. But it is NOT what will stop an addict from picking up. I have heard of some poor souls who have been brought back from the dead numerous times. A good thing on one hand. But it clearly is not an answer to the problem when the addict does what an addict will do and goes right back to the drug. I have heard that young people are having “overdose parties”, where someone has gotten their hands on some Narcan and believe it is safe to party hearty because they can be brought back from the brink of death. Oh my God….how can this be the thought process of our young people?

News reports have given us some hope in this fight against drugs. Several cities and towns are wiling to send an addict to rehab instead of jail. Rehab can help, but sometimes it takes a few times to “get it”. I spent 25 days in rehab. It helped. But it was just the beginning. True to the nature of my disease,I left rehab and picked up again, almost immediately. But it was never the same. I knew too much about what I was doing at that point. Still, it took me another two months to make a commitment to a program. I did 90 meetings in 90 days. I embraced the 12 steps that gave me my life back. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t pretty. And it wasn’t easy. Nor did it happen overnight. But it did happen.

I know if I ever pick up again, I shall die. That knowledge makes the struggle easier to handle, because there are days I still struggle. Not with the drug, but with life. Because life happens. And there will be good days and there will be bad days, as I have written about previously. Learning to face life on life’s terms is all we can do. Drugs. Alcohol. Sex. Gambling. All these addictions do nothing to make life easier, although it may seem so at times. In the long run, we all have to look at the world around us. At the life we lead. We all need help sometimes. Drugs are not the answer. I can tell you that. Sometimes I have to take it a minute at a time or an hour at a time. But we can learn and believe that “this too shall pass”.

If you know someone who is struggling, reach out. They may reject you. Reach out anyway. They may get angry at you. Keep trying. If you still cannot get through to them, find a meeting to help yourself get through the horror and nightmare of addiction.  It doesn’t affect just the addict. It affects everyone in their life.

If you need someone to talk to, I am here.

This morning I am taking some time to be in the moment. It is a gorgeous day. Sunrise over the bog brought a palette of God’s favorite colors. The sky a deep midnight blue fading to shades of purple. The horizon a blush of pink and tangerine with brushstroke shades of gold and yellow. A backdrop of breathtaking beauty announcing the arrival of a new day. There is not a cloud in the sky. The trees are exploding with new leaves. The tips of the blades of grass sparkling with diamond drops of dew.

The air is cool and refreshing. I am listening to the songs of the birds filling the air with the joy of a new day. A pair of squirrels chase each other across the lawn, run up a tree trunk, jumping from branch to branch in a game of tag. Right now there is not another sound in the world.

I take hold of this moment, trying to capture it and store it in my heart for later in the day when I may need a reminder of the beauty and simplicity of the morning. I breathe in the freshness of spring, hold it in my lungs for a few seconds, then let it out slowly. Thank you God for a new day, a new beginning. Let me know your will for me today. Also grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things that I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. With your help all things are possible.

I’ve been going through a difficult time these past few days. I’m not writing. Not walking Tucker. Can’t focus. Feeling overwhelmed. Generally speaking, sitting on the pity pot. It’s a sucky feeling, but sometimes I just have to do that. I have to experience these feelings and the blues that come along with allowing myself to sit in the muck.

Now, I know I have a lot to be grateful for. I know I have people who care about me. I know. But sometimes, the blues get the best of me and all I want to do is run away. Far away. And not tell anyone. Just disappear without a trace. Start over new, where nobody knows me. Start over somewhere, anywhere.

My mind tells me to get a grip. Smarten up. Get your ass in gear and take that dog for a walk. Write your blog. Shut the television off. My heart tells me to lie down on the couch. Turn on some mindless tv show. Snuggle deep beneath a blanket and tune out. Cry for a while. Sob if you have to. But don’t face the world.

These are the feelings that create the blues in music. The sadness. Emptiness. Loneliness. Loss. Grief. Pain. These are transitory feelngs, usually. Everyone has a bad day. A day of feeling a bit low…listless. Maybe brought about by a lack of sleep. Or something at work. Or the general state of the world. But when a day turns into two or three, or a week or more, these feelings are tough to shake. When bottled up inside, they can cripple even the strongest of us. Make it difficult to get out of our own way. Make us hard. Angry. Soul-less even.

Ah, but once the bass line of a 12-bar blues starts to play, these feelings can melt into the release of tears. Healing tears. A bottle-neck guitar lick calls to the sadness and grief and pain inviting such emotions to flow freely from your heart and soothe the parts of you that have been hurting. It’s a miracle of sorts. There is a symbiosis of notes, instruments, rhythm, and lyrics that reaches into the emptiness, grabs a hold of the loneliness, finds the loss that’s pulling at your memory, and brings the sweet release of music. It’s one of the greatest gifts of life. Music. The healing force of the world. For my world anyway.