The Next Try

A wild man on stage, in outrageous costumes with a feather boa around his neck, performing his heart out and rocking til dawn - afterwards he lands back in the ordinary world and reality greets him with hard facts. The magic of the night is over and the day is harsh with past due bills, no sugar for his coffee, everyone angry at him and no place to go except for an escape into a drugged up haze. It's a short term solution and it only takes him so far but he reaches for it with shaking hands and a desperate kind of eagerness. There is no pain being high and the world softens and is kind, filled with pastel promises of success and praise, happiness and freedom. He fades out slowly, letting the drug do its work, silencing the voices that nag and scold at him, cry for him, and beg him to come back.

There is great sadness in this man as there is in all that lose this particular battle. Talent is not enough, children are not enough, even music is not enough to fill the void. The irresistible urge to use overcomes the best intentions and erases the most resolute promises - sobriety, when and if it comes, is difficult and a constant fight, requiring 24 hour vigilance and hard, draining emotional work. It does not bring about instant satisfaction or fame, does not solve problems by itself,and doesn't repair broken lives, instead it brings a sharp focus to everything we would rather not see, a focus that can be unbearable on a daily basis. It offers a lifetime of temptation just at your fingertips.

How can they not see they're self destructing? I demanded of the after care counselor at an early session while my husband ranted and raved and detoxed on the alcoholism ward two floors above us.

Consider things from their perspective, the counselor told me patiently, They have no responsibilities, no needs except their next drink or drug. There's always someone to pick up after them, bail them out of jail, make excuses, put them to bed, clean up their vomit, pay their bills, defend and protect them. Who wouldn't want to hold on to that?

This reasoning, perverted as it was, made a certain kind of sense to me. No one sets out to be a drunk, this kind and gentle man reminded me, But once you're there and hooked, there's always a reason to stay. It's a disease, not a choice.

And so addiction takes another man down and a little farther away. I try to remember that each attempt at sobriety, even when it fails, teaches us something and improves the odds for the next try. I always pray for a next try.