The pain of the journey is real. But so is the hope.

Of course, it wasn’t my choice that I was abused and abandoned. I know that now. And I certainly would never want other people to experience those traumas and their offshoots the way I did. It was devastating and the effect was immediate, long lasting but ultimately also profound.

Every drink, line, injection, or inhale I had over a 20-year period was related to a pain. It was my solution, not my problem — but it ended up becoming a problem. I can confidently say that painkillers lengthened my life and, most likely, even saved it in the end. That said, I did not escape death by the “grace of god” (I despise this cliche) because, for one, I do not believe in such a cruel universal power, and secondly, by any measure, I am not worth more than those who I loved who did not survive their pain.

Still, I’m here to testify that taking my drugs of solution was not a reflex action caused by a diseased brain; it was carefully thought out and planned, as I had learned what I had to do to make it through another day. I was not and am not diseased.

For me, progressing toward better health is all about responsibility without blame. It’s a process of learning while having a relationship with painkillers and experiencing addiction, anxiety, and depression, as much as it’s a process of learning when I stop the negative cycle and break up with cocaine and vodka for the 300th time

It’s crucial to understand that SOBER — or no longer using alcohol or other drugs chaotically or problematically — stands for “Son-Of-a-Bitch, Everything is Real”. Therefore, context is of utmost importance to reach the best outcomes in my relationships with people, places, and things.

The journey to healing starts with a realization of what the experience of addiction is trying to address in my life. This means examining not what’s wrong with the addiction, but what is “right” about it. I already knew that my habits were body and soul-destroying, as well as socially nihilistic. The habits need validation, not for the way the experience of addiction attempts to fulfill my needs, but for the fundamental needs themselves.

And of course, my needs are the same as what all humans need: self-acceptance, relief of pain, peace of mind, social connection, and a sense of power and place.

Treatment, thus, should explore how, in a my life, these needs were not fulfilled; why I developed the belief that only through particular substances or behaviors would they be met: or what, in other words, created the susceptibility, which is rooted in my childhood environment and with those who were my “teachers”, who themselves were experiencing the symptoms of their childhoods and so on.

Let’s be clear, my every struggle was hard fought, honest and necessary and led me to this moment of inspiration to share with others who might relate or know someone who might benefit from my insights.

This post is about my path, not a strategy to be packaged and sold. It’s just to say that the addiction experience is about the HUMAN condition and should not require a label or stereotype or hoops to jump through for successful treatment and support. It should never be easier to acquire and ingest a poisoned drug supply than it is to receive immediate, affordable and quality treatment for the experience of addiction.

What I’ve learned over the past 19 years working in behavioral health is that ultimately, community-based, HEALTHY emotional connection is the antidote, not cliches, dogma, platitudes or even specific therapeutic modalities of high regard. As the spiritual master A.H. Almaas writes, “Only when compassion is present will people allow themselves to see the truth.”