On Addiction: An Insider’s Perspective on Myths, Realities, and Recovery
What does addiction really feel like?
Note:
In this post, I use the term "addiction" as an inclusive umbrella term that encompasses a range of behaviours, such as gambling, sex, and social media, in addition to substance use. It is important to note that I do not associate addiction with the stigmatised image or other harmful connotations. I aim to nurture a more compassionate and understanding dialogue around these issues, acknowledging the diverse experiences and challenges faced by individuals.
Defining the Indefinable
“What does it feel like? To be addicted.” I stifle a little giggle and respond: “What does it feel like? To be American.” No insult implied to any American folks; it was simply the first and only applicable label my pre-frontal cortex could conjure at that moment. I suppose the sarcasm was unnecessary, and I can appreciate their attempt to gain perspective to understand, I’m just curious about the answer they were hoping to receive. What do you mean by what does it feel like?
Listen to "Lux Æterna", the leitmotif of Requiem for a Dream by Clint Mansell. Do you also notice it creeping in - the dread that threatens to consume your being? At times, addiction is that same distinct, desolate sensation that rises from the depths of my gut, crawls back down my spine, and spreads out to my limbs - it’s overwhelming hopelessness, absolute despair, the terror in the realisation that nobody is coming to save me. At times.
Most days it feels, well, normal.
What does it truly mean to be addicted? Is it a momentary lapse of reason, a lifelong affliction, or something far more nuanced? The reality is deeply personal and resists straightforward definition. Addiction exists in a space where biology, psychology, and society collide. It cannot be neatly confined to a single explanation because every individual arrives at addiction through a distinct pathway.
That being said, comprehending addiction doesn’t require exceptional intellect, rigorous scientific exploration and study or any variety of religious inclination or wokeness. It requires a substantial amount of compassion, some degree of pluralism and radical acceptance.
A Long Road
For twenty-seven years, I experienced the ebb and flow of substance use, eventually finding myself addicted for eleven of them. Contrary to fear-based media portrayals, addiction doesn’t occur after a single use. It accrues gradually, requiring persistence, curious experimentation, or repeated self-medication attempts. To be fair, some of us never stop after the first time, but that doesn't equate to addiction, that merely shows how efficient some drugs are at making people feel something other than themselves.
I first encountered drugs as a child—at the age of twelve. I was in a prestigious all-girls boarding school, overweight and awkward, hardly an ideal scenario for building confidence. I was the ugly duckling, alone, unwanted. One afternoon the petite redhead with the wicked Fairuza Balk attitude called me over: “Come! Smoke this with us. You’ll lose weight.” She wasn’t lying! Before the school year drew to a close, I dropped 30kg. I smoked daily for approximately six months before getting caught and subsequently discovering that I had been using heroin. I changed schools and experienced surprisingly mild withdrawal, if anything, I would describe it as a brief, mild discomfort in the absence of cravings.
Pleasure or Survival? Understanding Why We Use
Many believe drug use is purely about seeking pleasure. While that may hold true for some, it is not the universal rule. In my own story, I perceived substances as purely recreational—a way to amplify social engagements. As I aged and encountered new stressors, my motivations changed. Drugs helped me cope with insomnia, quell anxious thoughts, or sustain enough energy to meet the demands of daily life. I never considered that deeper emotional or mental health issues might be at play.
“The worst part about anything that’s self-destructive is that it’s so intimate. You become so close with your addictions and illnesses that leaving them behind is like killing the part of yourself that taught you how to survive.” - Lacy L
Addiction vs Dependence
One of the primary sources of confusion in discussions around addiction is the tendency to conflate “dependence” with “addiction.” They can coexist, but they are not identical:
Dependence involves a physical reliance on a substance. When a dependent individual stops using, they experience withdrawal symptoms, as their body has adjusted to that substance’s presence. It is possible to be dependent without fully exhibiting all the behaviours of addiction.
Addiction is rooted in complex psychological and behavioural patterns. It comprises a compulsive urge to consume a substance or engage in an activity, regardless of negative outcomes. With addiction, willpower alone often falls short because deeper emotional or neurological forces are at play.
An Evolving Relationship
In my youth, substances were linked to party culture and weight management. I laced cigarettes with heroin on occasion to slow my thoughts, ironically hoping for a semblance of peace amidst frenetic partying. Later, I harnessed certain stimulants to push my productivity, fuel creative endeavours, and stay awake for long hours.
The drugs served as motivation and energy to keep going, it inspired me to write and explore different realms inward and out. I was introduced to countless fascinating people, cultivated unbelievable connections and lasting friendships and found the courage and confidence to pursue various avenues.
This performance-driven approach—to keep going, to accomplish more—gradually wore me down, interfering with my natural dopamine balance. Eventually, I realised I was no longer chasing a “high”; instead, I was merely warding off the crippling sense that my body and mind might grind to a halt without chemical intervention.
Who Are ‘Addicts’? When Resources Shape Reality
The stereotypical image of an “addict” is an individual in dire straits—dishevelled, unkempt, visibly unstable, and potentially in conflict with the law. That image exists, but it is far from the only one. Throughout my life, I have encountered countless people—from doctors and lawyers to teachers and school principals—who use drugs. Many of them hold reputable positions, maintain outward stability, and care for their families. Their support networks and financial security allow them to keep their struggles hidden, underscoring why addiction itself does not exist in a one-size-fits-all framework.
The narrative surrounding substance use changes considerably depending on one’s resources. Individuals with stable jobs, family support, and adequate healthcare are more likely to manage their drug use discreetly. They can afford the substances, pay for therapies, and avoid legal repercussions. For those with limited means, however, addiction can spiral out of sight, increasing the likelihood of criminal charges or losing child custody. In essence, addiction itself does not inherently equate to crime—lack of resources, social safety nets, and accessible treatment often have more to do with the outcome than drug use per se.
“Addictions - started out like magical pets, pocket monsters. They did extraordinary tricks, showed you things you hadn’t seen, were fun. But came through some dire gradual alchemy, to make decisions for you. Eventually they were making your most crucial life decisions and they were…. less intelligent than goldfish.” - William Gibson
Life Beyond the High: Coexisting with Addiction
It has been years since I last felt euphoria or tangible pleasure from substances. At this point, my habit exists to maintain equilibrium, likely connected to dopamine receptors that have become less responsive over years of excessive use. My daily routine is rather ordinary: I wake up early, eat three balanced meals, fulfil personal and professional obligations, and go to bed at a reasonable hour without sleeping pills or benzodiazepines.
Yet, I am aware that my body has adapted to function under a chemically supported equilibrium. Weaning off is theoretically possible, but it might take years, and complete normalisation of my neurochemistry may never come. This is not hopelessness; it is the reality of living with a condition that has physiological, psychological, and societal layers.
Finding Empathy, Seeking Solutions
In the end, addiction cannot be summarised in a single sentence. It is both highly individual and shaped by powerful external forces such as stigma, access to resources, and the persistent myth that moral character alone dictates who succumbs and who does not. The daily lives of people grappling with substance use can look remarkably different from popular stereotypes, yet they deserve understanding, equitable healthcare, and meaningful support.
Rather than “fix” people, we might do well to listen more and judge less. By improving our capacity for empathy and asking the right questions, we can help individuals navigate the complex terrain of addiction. The solutions will never fit neatly in a box; they require acknowledging the humanity in every individual and recognising that addiction stems from myriad influences—each demanding compassion and concrete, pragmatic assistance.
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