Author: The Fix

My Journey from Heroin to Prison

As soon as I was out of prison, it took one argument with a girlfriend for me to go running right back into the arms of the one that always made me feel better: heroin.

I have been a man of many realities. I’ve been a son, a student, a friend, a lover, a brother and finally a drug dealer. Well, at least, I thought that was my final phase. But then I shot heroin for the first time and I entered a new world. I felt warmth comparable to a mother’s embrace. It was something in my life I no longer received. It was a feeling I craved desperately, setting me on a course of destruction and pain that I tried to blot out with even more heroin. And every time I came to, the pain seemed to get worse.

I didn’t start off as a heroin user. I found my niche in high school selling weed. But when I was forced out on my own, I knew I needed a better source of income. So, I started selling the Adderal and Atavan that I was prescribed. In that life, it really was only a matter of time before I started abusing the drugs I was selling. To support my growing habit, I started selling cocaine. It was fast and easy money from an older crowd. I didn’t plan on using it myself; my biological mother was addicted to crack cocaine and I was afraid of following in her footsteps.

But there came a day when I gave in to temptation. Coke took me to another level. After cocaine it was Percocet and then, eventually, at the prompting of the girl I loved, I tried heroin. As I pushed the plunger, I felt all of the pain in my life fade away as the warmth of the dope enveloped me. It was a night of warmth and sex. When I woke up in the morning, all I felt was sadness that the feeling was over. Reality came crashing over me and all of the feelings that I had so desperately tried to bury came rushing back to me. It was a toxic mix of guilt and anger and disappointment. Pain.

I never liked dealing with my feelings, and heroin helped me to avoid them. But I tried to avoid them too much. Two nights before Christmas 2009, I overdosed for the first time. The life I had been living took its toll on me, mentally and physically. I was alone and the pain of losing my family and my friends to my addiction became too much for me to handle. All I wanted was to keep running from it. I ended up using too much heroin to blur out the pain.

I didn’t want to die but I just didn’t know how to live.

When I opened my eyes, it was like a dream. Ambulance lights flashing, people overhead asking questions. All of the voices seemed as if they were under water. Christmas morning, when I came to in the hospital, my family was there at my bedside. I hadn’t seen my brothers and sisters in a long time because my mom wanted me to stay away. She wasn’t my biological mom, of course. The woman that gave birth to me was too in love with crack to be a mother to me. She abandoned me when I was five. But my mom, she took me in and looked after me until I was 14. Then she kicked me out too.

When I woke up in the hospital bed and saw her face and the looks on my siblings’ faces, I broke down. At that point in my life, I thought I had forgotten how to cry. But I cried because they cried. I cried because I realized my siblings were seeing their hero at his worst. I cried because I felt bad for all the things I did to my mom. I always wanted to make my adopted parents proud. I felt like I owed them my successes because they gave me a second chance at a decent life. I had to show them it wasn’t for nothing. But looking into my mom’s eyes that morning, all I saw was the pain and disappointment I had caused her.

When I was released from the hospital, I was too ashamed and embarrassed to show my face to my brothers and sisters. I didn’t want to deal with the pain of what I had done. Instead, I crawled backed into bed with my new love, heroin, who kept my emotions nonexistent as long as I stayed with her. I turned away from my family and searched for a new one – a family that would accept me without me having to change my destructive behavior. I found that sense of belonging with the Latin Kings.

My “Original Gangster” – the Latin King member who took me under his wing – showed me a side of gang life that I hadn’t ever expected. He told me the Nation was dedicated to uplifting the Latin community from poverty, oppression, and abuse. He showed me broken families, homeless people and how my life would be if I continued on the path I was on. He was a man who didn’t owe me a thing but tried to show me a better way. At least, that’s what I thought at the time. And I wanted what he had: respect, power, and the ability to make a difference in the lives of the people who looked up to him. I had no direction and nothing going for me so I agreed to be a part of his world, with no consideration of what that really meant.

I began living a lie. I pretended to be clean, but anyone who stayed around me long enough could see that I was on drugs. My OG would ask me occasionally if I was using and I would always make up a story. He never pushed me any further on it. But the other Kings knew. They didn’t care, though, as long as I did what they asked of me. Some of them even supplied me with drugs to make sure I was ready for a “mission.” In our world, a mission involved shooting at the opposition or robbing someone.

In my heart, though, I was never a gangster. I never wanted to hurt people. The things I did on my missions made me feel like I was a losing a part of myself. My life became an endless cycle: wake up, get high, complete my mission, get high, be with my girlfriend, get high, black out, wake up, repeat. Then one day I was given a mission that no amount of drugs could ever convince me to do.

I had sworn loyalty to my gang but when they told me to kill my OG for being a suspected police informant, I couldn’t do it. Three members of my gang beat me unconscious for violating their order. When I came to, I was in the hospital with a concussion and my phone was ringing. My OG’s wife was crying on the other end. He was dead. My heart sank and hardened at once. I detached myself from the machines and left against medical advice. I needed to get back to heroin. It was my love, and at that point, it also became my life.

Supporting my habit got harder. I was using too much to be able to sell and still have enough left for myself. So, I found a new profession as a male escort. It was during that time that I was raped by one of my drug dealers. I was unable to live with myself after that happened. For the first time, I intentionally overdosed and ended up on a friend’s front porch. He brought me back to life. Throughout the night, he talked to me about life. He told me “life is good, good is life.” I eventually had those words tattooed on my forearms to serve as a reminder. He not only gave me a second chance at life but also a new outlook. From that day forward, I tried to fight my addiction.

It wasn’t easy and I didn’t manage it very well. I tried my first stint at rehab at 17. That lasted two weeks. Soon after rehab, I caught my first case for armed robbery. Strangely, when they put me in the cop car, I was relieved. My first night in jail put me in a bad place mentally. All the pain I was running from was suffocating me. I had the phrase “life is good, good is life” in my mind but, at that moment, I had no idea what was actually good in my life. All I knew is that I wanted to live.

I served three years and change on my first sentence. I was in the best shape of my life, both physically and mentally, and I thought I had everything figured out. But nothing had really changed for me. As soon as I was out, it took one argument with a girlfriend for me to go running right back into the arms of the one that always made me feel better: heroin. I wasn’t out of prison four hours before I had a needle in my arm.

Seven months later, I caught my second case and that’s what I’m serving now. Since going back to prison this time, I’ve worked hard to better myself, gain an education and become someone. But I still carry around the fear that I might not be strong enough to stay clean and make something of myself when I get out. In the past, that fear would have stopped me from even trying. But during this sentence, I’ve learned that the only way for me to succeed is to have the courage to fail and pick myself back up without having to turn to my old love for support. I used to believe I was nothing and that meant my life would amount to nothing. But I don’t believe that anymore. I believe that I have the tools I need to succeed. And that gives me hope that, maybe this time, everything will be different.

View the original article at thefix.com

27 November 2018
Do Problematic Facebook Users Make More Impulsive Decisions?

A small-scale study examined the impulsivity of problematic Facebook users.

Impulsive decision-making may be added to the list of negative effects of too much Facebook use, according to new research.

The study, published in Addiction Research and Theory, was done at a Midwestern university and consisted of surveying 75 students. In doing so, researchers discovered that students who scored higher on the Bergen Facebook Addiction Scale had a higher probability of exhibiting “delay discounting.”

According to PsyPost, delay discounting is when a person is more inclined to take a smaller reward that they can have immediately, rather than waiting for a larger reward. For the study specifically, students were asked whether they wanted $70 immediately or $200 in two weeks.

According to the research, many of the students who said they would choose the $70 were also the students who reported utilizing Facebook to forget about personal issues, who tried to decrease Facebook use without success and used the social media platform so much that it impacted their jobs and studies in a negative way.

“Steep delay discounting, or a preference for smaller immediate rewards instead of investing in a larger payout in the future, has been an observed behavior across addictions,” researchers wrote. “This finding thus strengthens the proposition that [Facebook addiction] may share neurocognitive processes similar to other addictions.”

Licensed psychologist Tyler Fortman told Guy Counseling that for those in the field such as himself, the results of this study were expected. “I’m not surprised to see the results of this study. We’ve known for some time now that frequent social media usage has a negative impact on delayed gratification,” he said.

In their conclusion, the researchers acknowledge that in the future, such a study would benefit from having more participants from more diverse backgrounds.

“More advanced and better powered research on this topic is warranted,” researchers wrote. “Although Facebook can be innocuous for many users, and even provides apparent benefit to users by maintaining social connections, for some persons, Facebook use may be problematic.”

This research supports a prior study’s findings that measured impulsivity with a “go/no-go” task and found that Facebook addiction aligned with impulsive decision making.

“The findings indicated that at least at the examined levels of addiction-like symptoms, technology-related ‘addictions’ share some neural features with substance and gambling addictions, but more importantly they also differ from such addictions in their brain etiology and possibly pathogenesis, as related to abnormal functioning of the inhibitory-control brain system,” that study’s researchers wrote.

View the original article at thefix.com

27 November 2018
Cocaine Cut With Deworming Drug May Cause Brain Damage

In 2017, close to 90% of seized cocaine bricks were cut with the deworming drug.

A pet dewormer commonly used to cut cocaine may cause brain damage, according to a team of Swiss researchers.

Known as levamisole, the anti-parasite drug can lead to changes in the brain’s structure and also hurt cognitive performance, the University of Zurich team of scientists wrote in the October issue of Translational Psychiatry.

“We can assume from our findings that it is not just cocaine that changes the brain, but that the adulterant levamisole has an additional harmful effect,” said Professor Boris Quednow, the group’s lead researcher. “The sorts of cognitive impairment often exhibited by cocaine users may therefore be exacerbated by levamisole.”

The anti-worming drug isn’t a new addition to coke supplies; it started popping up in illicit powders more than a decade ago, the DEA reported at the time. Swiss authorities began noticing it sometime around 2008, the researchers wrote.

It’s recently become less pervasive in drug supplies there, but in U.S. close to 90% of cocaine bricks seized in 2017 contained the dewormer.

But researchers aren’t entirely clear on why it’s so popular as a cocaine additive, according to a university press release. It may draw out or heighten the effects of blow—but previous research has already shown a number of negative side effects, including a linkage to skin necrosis.

And, animal testing shows it can impact the nervous system. In part that’s why researchers with the Psychiatric Hospital and the Institute of Forensic Medicine of the University of Zurich decided to take a closer look at the effects of levamisole, by testing drug users’ hair to figure out who had consumed the deworming agent with cocaine and who hadn’t.

In one study, researchers compared 26 regular coke users with low levels of levamisole exposure, 49 users with high levels of exposure and 78 non-users in cognitive functioning tests.

Both groups of coke users showed “significant impairments” in attention and memory—neither of which should come as any surprise to anyone who’s done a line or two. But the researchers also found that the group with more exposure to the dewormer showed much worse executive function—even though they weren’t doing more blow.

A second study used MRIs to look at how levamisole-laced cocaine affects the brain’s structure, finding that it thinned a region associated with executive functions.

Given the findings, researchers suggested that the most immediate solution might be better purity testing, a harm-reduction approach to help users screen out tainted supplies.

View the original article at thefix.com

26 November 2018
"Ralph Breaks The Internet" Was Originally About Social Media Addiction

The original storyline of Ralph Breaks the Internet focused on social media addiction and the obsession with getting “likes” and affirmations.

Ralph Breaks the Internet is the follow-up to the popular animated movie, Wreck-It Ralph. Sarah Silverman and John C. Reilly voice the video game characters Vanellope and Wreck-It Ralph, two unlikely friends.

The sequel—now playing in theaters—was almost a tale of internet addiction, according to the film’s producers.

Wreck-it Ralph is about arcade-game character Wreck-It Ralph who doesn’t want to be the bad guy in the game anymore. After years of being the bad guy to good guy Fix-It Felix, Ralph takes action: he hops through video games to prove that he can be the hero. But while on this hero’s journey, Ralph accidentally unleashes a deadly enemy to the entire arcade.

Wreck-It Ralph meets Vanellope, a video game character who thinks she is the bad guy, when actually she is the princess destined to win the game.

The sequel sees Wreck-It Ralph and Vanellope beginning a journey inside the world wide web to find a replacement part for Vanellope’s game. Without the replacement part, Vanellope will cease to exist in the virtual world they inhabit.

Producer Clark Spencer told Yahoo Movies UK that the original concept went down a darker-themed journey. In the original movie plot, Vanellope became obsessed with her online status and growing her social media affirmations, echoing the experience of many young people in the modern world.

“In the very beginning we did want the story to be the concept of being caught up in the Internet,” Spencer told Yahoo Movies UK earlier this year. “So there was a story told where Vanellope, being the younger character, actually got caught up in the ‘likes’ and she started to feel like that was giving her the affirmation she needed.”

Social media addiction is a growing concern as generations of children are growing up spending hours a day engaging online.

However, the filmmakers felt that the plot wasn’t authentic to the strong character of Vanellope they had created. Spencer told Yahoo, “It made us take a step back and say: what’s a different story we can tell that still deals with those elements of the Internet that are complicated?”

Spencer continued. “How do we deal with comments? How do we deal with the word ‘likes’ and what does it mean for someone? That idea of affirmation through this kind of anonymous body of the Internet.”

Ultimately the storyline focused on how identity is created and understood through how we spend our days, and what we identify with.

“What we wanted to say is: What would it mean to a character if their game actually was gone?” Spencer told Yahoo. “Do they define themselves by their games rather than who they are? It’s sort of like do I define myself by my career or do I define by myself as an individual or as a person? That is a key element of what we explore with Vanellope.”

View the original article at thefix.com

26 November 2018
Kelly Osbourne Says Her First Year Of Sobriety Was Really Difficult

Building up a sober community has been instrumental for Kelly Osbourne’s success in her first year of sobriety.

The Osbourne family is known for telling it like it is, with colorful language to boot, so it’s no surprise that Kelly Osbourne is being candid about the difficulties of staying sober as she speaks about her one-year sobriety anniversary.

“It feels amazing, but the first year is really hard for everyone,” Osbourne told In Touch. “People have this whole notion that you can be fixed and I am not fixed. I am now just beginning to start to know who I really am and I am not even close. Life is really scary but I get to do things for the first time all over again, which is great and just really figure out who I am and what I am but it’s tough. That first year is really f—ing tough.”

Osbourne, 34, has been in and out of treatment since she was a teenager. This time, she says, the benefits of sobriety have clicked for her.

“I am not hungover and like a lot of my friends aren’t sober and when we do stuff, I am always the first one up, the first one out the door, you know,” she said. “I am excited about life in a whole new way.”

She said that her family—including mom Sharon, dad Ozzy and brother Jack—all supported her in their own ways.

“They have just been amazing,” she said. “My brother has been the one, more than anything because he truly gets it. My mom is a normie… she is there for me as much as she can be. She will always manage to say that one thing that you’re like oh, why the f—k did you say that! But she is only trying to help because she cares so much. Without the support of my family this year, I don’t think I could have gotten through it. They have been there for me like crazy when I know that they should have given up on me by now, but they didn’t.”

Osbourne said that she is learning to cope with her feelings—which she said she “f—ing hates”—because in the past she’s been “numb the whole time.”

She said that building up a sober community has been instrumental for her success in sobriety. She’s learned to keep her focus on her sobriety.

“Listen to what people are telling you to do, talk to people, don’t keep stuff in and just take it each day as it comes,” she said. “And if you fall, just dust yourself off and try again.”

View the original article at thefix.com

26 November 2018
Modest Mouse On Medical Marijuana For Mental Health

“After taking the antidepressants, I started to realize cannabis was probably the better way to go,” Modest Mouse drummer Jeremiah Green says about his medical marijuana use.

Some members of the band behind the album The Moon & Antarctica are turning to marijuana to help deal with anxiety.

Jeremiah Green, the drummer of Modest Mouse, was forced to temporarily leave the band due to his depression. He’s been trying to treat it over the past few years with marijuana.

“I went on antidepressants, and I got all manic and weird,” Green explains to High Times. “I just blew up one day. I was acting hella weird. I ended up in the hospital for six hours and realized pretty quick I didn’t want to be there.”

Green never intended to quit the band, it just kind of happened that way, he says.

“It basically took me a long time to call them because I was embarrassed,” Green confesses. “All of a sudden all of that happened, and within a week or so, I was off antidepressants and I figured out what the fuck had gone on. I got back to normal and was like, ‘Holy shit, I ruined my whole life basically.’ [Laughs] I sat around depressed for like a year. I didn’t do shit. Luckily, those guys were cool and got me back in the band.”

Despite Green’s absence, the band moved forward with Benjamin Weikel in his place. With Weikel on the drummer’s stool, the band found commercial success in their 2004 album Good News for People Who Love Bad News. When Green finally did return, his bandmates weren’t sure what to expect.

“It was a good opportunity for him to see if he wanted to be a part of the band,” said Modest Mouse frontman Isaac Brock.

Things were rough with Green self-medicating with marijuana all the time.

“When he got back, he was getting super-high all the time. He had normal-people weed-smoking abilities at that point. It was super-weird, because he’d be [drumming] super-slow or super-fast. It was never right. Then he got super-good at weed smoking, if that’s a thing—and I think it is,” Brock recalled. “Master-expert level is where he is now. He can walk on tight ropes and do trigonometry with it and shit. He’s always Jeremiah. I love the guy. Even when he was crazier than a shit-house rat, I had patience for it. His crazy was kind of interesting.”

Nowadays, Green’s bandmates, including Brock and Tom Peloso, sometimes smoke with him. However, Green still does most of the smoking.

“I smoke regularly,” Green said. “After taking the antidepressants, I started to realize cannabis was probably the better way to go. I’ve smoked for so long I don’t really get high anymore. I just sort of smoke on a low.”

The band is currently on tour for their album Strangers to Ourselves.

View the original article at thefix.com

26 November 2018
Artie Lange: I'm 18 Days Clean And Fighting Hard

Comedian Artie Lange took to Twitter to gush about his current recovery program and how many days he’s been clean.

The comedian stepped out of rehab to perform a show and took the time to send off a series of appreciative tweets.

Comedian Artie Lange tweeted Wednesday that he’s been clean for 18 days. Lange performed a show before returning to his rehab in time for Thanksgiving on Thursday.

“Guess who’s clean?!! Been clean 18 days! The rehab I’m at let me use my phone to check things. I still have more time here but I’m doing great,” he wrote on Twitter. “I’m humble. Not bragging. Just feel well. Tons of work ahead. Sunrise detox in Sterling, NJ helped save my life!!! They’re great!!”

The comedian has struggled with substance use disorder for years, but on Wednesday his treatment center allowed him to take a break from his program to perform. He gushed about his current recovery program on Twitter.

“I’m at The Retreat by Lancaster PA. This place is a Godsend! They’re not payin me. No free stay. They do it right. I’m so grateful to them. The nurses are Angels,” he tweeted. “I’m not saying I will never relapse. I pray every day!! Just happy to be alive. I ain’t checkin out yet! I love u all!”

He topped off his tweets with the serenity prayer.

“God. Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to Change the things I can. And the wisdom to know the difference,” he wrote on Twitter.

Lange had recently announced his intention to get clean on the Steve Trevelise Show.

“I’m about to go into drug treatment and commit to a full rehab, in-patient,” he said in the interview on the show. “I don’t know. I’m a very humble guy at this point. And I think I’m ready to go and do what I gotta do. It’s been long enough.”

Soon after arriving at the rehab center after finishing his show, Lange sent out one last tweet before relinquishing his phone to thank his fans.

“On way back to rehab. Did show. Stayed clean. On way back. Another Thanksgiving inside someplace. Last one was jail. But I just killed for a huge crowd who felt like family,” his last tweet read. “I’m fighting hard. Don’t count Artie Lange out. Love u. Be back by end of month. I’m smiling. Thx”

View the original article at thefix.com

26 November 2018
The Other Side of the Opioid Epidemic: Chronic Pain Patients

“It is borderline genocide,” said DeLuca, 37. “You are allowing [chronic pain patients] to go home and essentially suffer until they kill themselves.”

Last year, Lauren DeLuca went to the emergency room in the middle of the night, violently ill and in pain with a pancreatic attack. Despite the fact that she was passing out and vomiting profusely, DeLuca said that she received little help.

“I was essentially turned away,” she told The Fix. “Everywhere [I went] I was being accused of lying, accused of making it up.”

Over the next three weeks, DeLuca lost 20 pounds, unable to eat because of her pain and vomiting. Doctors, she said, were too paralyzed by the fear of overprescribing powerful opioid pain relievers to help her. Eventually, DeLuca’s arteries and organs were permanently damaged by her inability to eat, halting her plans to start a family, and leaving her with lifelong health issues. Even after all that, she had issues accessing the opioid pain relief that would make her life bearable.

“I’m a continuous level 10 pain. If you don’t medicate me, I’m screaming,” she said.

Frustrated and desperate, DeLuca founded the Chronic Illness Advocacy and Awareness Group, first as a Facebook community and later as an advocacy organization that aims to help chronic pain patients who feel that new opioid regulations put their lives at stake.

“It is borderline genocide,” said DeLuca, 37, who lives in Massachusetts. “You are allowing them to go home and essentially suffer until they kill themselves.”

Good Intentions, Dangerous Consequences

The negative effects of opioids are widely known. Overzealous and irresponsible prescribing practices, sometimes by doctors receiving kick-backs from drug companies, are blamed for causing the opioid epidemic that has claimed more than 70,000 American lives last year alone. In an effort to reduce the number of people dying from drug overdoses, policymakers have targeted prescription opioids, issuing guidelines for prescribers and in some cases, regulating the number of pills and the dosage that can be issued to patients.

As a result, the total number of opioid prescriptions issued in America peaked in 2012 and has fallen steadily since. While policymakers praise this as a win in the fight against opioids, chronic pain patients and some medical professionals argue that the regulations have placed a burden on people who need opioids to function.

“The restrictive prescribing laws are misguided and have unintended consequences,” said Lynn R. Webster, MD, a vice president of scientific affairs for PRA Health Sciences, past president of the American Academy of Pain Medicine and the author of The Painful Truth: What Chronic Pain Is Really Like and Why It Matters to Each of Us.

It’s true, Webster said, that opioids were being over-prescribed, particularly for acute (short-term) pain. Limits on prescriptions for acute pain make sense for most patients (although not all, he said), but doctors are also being pressured through laws, recommendations, and insurance policies to taper chronic pain patients off opioid regimens that have been working for them for years.

“This is despite being compliant and not showing any signs of drug-related problems,” Webster said.

In 2016, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention issued guidelines urging prescribers to “carefully justify a decision” to put a patient on a dose of opioids higher than 90 milligrams per day. While the CDC said it consulted experts, pain advocates say that this is a relatively arbitrary number that is devastating for patients like Krista Battrick of Washington state.

Battrick, 50, suffers from chronic nerve pain caused by complications from a dental implant. She has been on opioids for 16 years and was able to use them to keep her pain at about a 1 on scale of 10. However, following the CDC recommendations, her doctor informed her he would no longer be prescribing opioids. Battrick struggled to find a new pain doctor who would take her given her high dosage. After three months, she finally found a new doctor, but he insisted on tapering her opioid dose so quickly that she experienced withdrawal symptoms.

“I am now in pain every single day,” she said, explaining that her new normal is pain at about a 4 or 5, with breakthrough pain that occasionally keeps her confined to bed. “I am angry because I feel like the decision to make these ‘guidelines’ were made by people who have never experienced chronic pain and have never talked to anyone who has experienced chronic pain.”

Battrick isn’t the only one who is upset. Richard Lawhern, co-founder of the Alliance for the Treatment of Intractable Pain, became involved in the chronic pain community when he started caring for his wife, who has chronic facial pain. He says that backroom deals and biased anti-opioid reviews made between governing bodies, especially the CDC, led to what he calls a “draconian reduction” in the number of opioids being prescribed. In part because of what he calls “these distortions,” Lawhern has filed a formal complaint with the the Office of Inspector General (OIG) for the United States Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), accusing the CDC of fraud in forming and issuing the 2016 opioid prescription guidelines.

The Root of The Issue

Pain patient advocates say that these policies stem from a fundamental misunderstanding about prescription opioids and opioid overdose deaths. They argue that the rate of opioid prescriptions being written was never causally tied to the rate of opioid-related drug overdoses. But despite the lack of research, Lawhern said that the medical community — and then policymakers — began to treat this premise as fact.

“That point of view was never based on fact or data,” he said. “Yet it was accepted at face value by people in the medical profession who felt it to be intuitively right.”

The data, he said, show no cause and effect relationship between opioid overdose deaths and overprescribing, but the CDC has turned a blind eye.

“When you plot the rate of opioid prescribing against the rate of overdose deaths from all causes, what you get is a shotgun pattern with no trend lines,” Lawhern said. “There is no cause and effect relationship there, but the CDC has actively resisted doing the analysis and validating that reality.”

Webster agrees. “The media and policymakers clearly don’t understand that the drug problem is not from prescription opioids,” he said, pointing out that while prescription rates have dropped dramatically, overdose rates are at an all-time high.

“It is naive to think that limiting access to prescription opioids will stop abusers from abusing,” he said. “They will just go to the street, where the more dangerous drugs exist, to get what they want.”

As chronic pain patients have more trouble accessing the medications that let them live their lives, DeLuca sees more lashing out at addiction patients, blaming the behaviors of “some junkies” for affecting their ability to get pain relief. DeLuca said that she tries to stay out of the blame game.

“We shouldn’t be demonizing substance abuse either. They are human beings suffering as well, and they need treatment,” DeLuca said. “But everyone in the pain community feels we have been betrayed: that policymakers feel that people with substance abuse disorders deserve a life and we pain patients don’t.”

The Spiral of Restricting Pain Relief

Many pain patients now feel that they need to prove that they are worthy of pain medication, that they’re not making up symptoms to score a high.

Dina Stander, 56, is a lucky pain patient in that she has found a primary care doctor who helps her navigate her hereditary spine and joint condition and the pain it brings. Even still, she recently received push-back from the doctor when she asked for a refill on pain medication that she keeps on hand for emergencies.

“I had to remind him that I do not usually ask for pain meds. The last time was two years ago. …I do not abuse pain meds,” said Stander, who lives in Massachusetts. “Only then did his eyebrow settle; he remembered I am not a risk to his paperwork status with the DEA I guess.”

This skepticism is part of the reason that Stander doesn’t use opioids for day-to-day management of her condition.

“What used to be a simple request is now an interrogation,” she said. “If I was to go back on an opioid pain regimen, I would have to pee in a cup every month and contend with the stares and stigma from desk staff when I went to pick up scrips, or suspicion and scrutiny at the pharmacy.”

Pain patients get judged in part because of a widespread misconception that they could get relief from alternative treatments rather than opioids, if only they’d try.

“If you’re on a long-term opioid plan, the alternatives have been tried and failed,” DeLuca said.

Although policymakers and members of the public wouldn’t assume they have the knowledge to dictate how medical professionals treat other illnesses, they have no problem doing so when it comes to chronic pain.

“Chronic pain is a serious disease and, for many, it can be as malignant as cancer. But it is treated as if were a trivial problem, largely fabricated, so people can get drugs,” Webster said. “There appears to be little compassion for people in pain.”

In the most severe cases, access to opioids for pain relief can be a matter of life and death. DeLuca said that just this week she has had three chronic pain patients message her on Facebook expressing suicidal ideation. Nearly every source interviewed for this story emphasized the risk of suicide for pain patients who lose access to opioids.

“Some people who will not be able to find pain relief due to the new policies will just give up, and unfortunately, some will commit suicide,” Webster said. “This is not hyperbole.”

Meeting in the Middle

Just as addiction and recovery communities feel overwhelmed trying to solve the overdose crisis, pain patients can be jaded about whether their need will be heard and responded to by the medical community, especially in an environment where prescription limits get widespread praise.

However, DeLuca says there are practical actions that could make a difference. The CDC says that its guidelines that recommend limiting dosage at 90 milligrams are “not intended for patients who are in active cancer treatment, palliative care, or end-of-life care.” However, palliative care — ongoing care for life-limiting illnesses — is defined differently in each state. DeLuca and her advocacy group would like to see the United States adopt the World Health Organization’s definition of palliative care, and use that to identify patients who should be exceptions to the restrictive guidelines.

Webster says that policymakers need to remember that restricting opioid prescriptions — particularly for the sickest patients — is not the solution to the opioid epidemic.

“The country has a drug crisis, not just an opioid crisis,” he said. “Most of the harm from opioids are from the opioids being smuggled into the country from China and Mexico, but nearly all the government’s interventions are based on limiting access to pain medication for people in pain. This is terribly misguided. It doesn’t address the major drug problem. What policymakers have failed to recognize is that there are unintended consequences when the most hurting amongst us cannot find relief. This is the bigger tragedy.”

View the original article at thefix.com

26 November 2018
Hunger of the Soul: Sensitivity, Intelligence, and Addiction

Peck observed that it is our sensitive/creative nature and intelligence that make us more susceptible to alcohol, drugs, and other addictions.

Being human means having attachments. On some level, we’re all addicted to something. We’ve been addicts for ages. Coming to terms with this truth means we’re changing our perception of what being an addict means.

But where does addiction start?

First, let’s go back, way back, into our ancestor’s DNA to figure out how and why these addictions started.

Alcohol has a long-standing role in history. Even in prehistory, too –humans were imbibing alcohol long before we invented writing. Consuming substances has promoted the development of language, the arts, and religion throughout history. And it wasn’t just humans who found pleasure in mind-altered states. Even animals learned about the effects of ethanol from overly ripe or rotting fruit. Primates could have been the first alcoholics; and this makes modern human preadapted to consume spirits.

Anthropologists Roger Sullivan claims we are disposed to drug-consumption as a survival strategy: “Stimulant alkaloids like nicotine and cocaine could have been exploited by our human ancestors to help them endure harsh environmental conditions,” Sullivan says. So we sought out plants with potent alkaloid content in order to live another day. Not out of pleasure. At least, not yet.

Scientists cite brain evolution as the cause for addiction. The synaptic link for addiction gets set up rather easily. It’s as if the brain—specifically the prefrontal cortex—appears to be designed for addiction. “Increased dopamine flow cultivates more and more synapses in the orbitofrontal (lower/prefrontal) cortex, and in the nearby ventral striatum—synapses that represent all the details, value, and importance of the thing you crave.” The brain’s desire for dopamine guides behavior and action towards the pursuit of good feelings and creates a circuit. This goal-pursuit circuit is flexible. It learns quickly. We’re ready to try new rewards, and pursue them even if they’re not as noble as anticipated, even in the face of shame and guilt. The goal-pursuit circuit is a bit too flexible, actually.

But what happens when addiction becomes a part of our identity that goes beyond the physical body or choice? What happens when addiction is embedded in the soul?

Some say addiction starts before the body is formed, that it’s embedded in the DNA of our parents when their sperm and egg joined. As the fetus develops, something else happens between mother and baby. Women worry about health risks while pregnant, but they should also consider their mental health. The baby’s well-being depends on balanced emotional state. In vitro, the baby experiences the world –more specifically, through the umbilical cord. If the mother is wrought with anxiety, depression, or codependency issues, the baby becomes the recipient of those emotions. And later, they can play out in a series of unexplained fears and habits.

Addiction isn’t just genetic, it’s imprinted on our souls, believe it or not. We can heal through understanding the past and use that to empower our future.

Psychiatrist M. Scott Peck has his own theory about the soul, trauma, and addiction. Separating from source (god, or universal love) is traumatic. It drives us to reconnect without understanding why or how. We don’t have a map to show us how to get there or a plan for how to start the process. But we’re forever searching.

When we become addicted, what we’re really aiming for is to reconnect to the source. Without that awareness, we seek out other avenues that bring us close to a feeling of euphoria and transcendence. Nothing can substitute re-merging with source.

During a lecture he gave in 1991, “Addiction: The Sacred Disease,” Dr. Peck explained his thesis:

“At birth, humans become separated from Source, from God. We are all aware of our separation, but some of us are more sensitive to it than others. We sensitive souls feel an emptiness, a longing, what many of us refer to as “a hole in my soul.” We sense that something is missing but don’t know what it is. We long for relief from the aching void inside … but we’re confused about what will ease our existential dis-ease.”

When we become aware of this missing piece, our natural inclination is to fill the void, the one that only a higher power can embody. Since awareness or awakening hasn’t come into our consciousness yet, we seek ways to ease that longing. And many times, those behaviors can become toxic, even addictive.

Peck says that compulsive/addictive people, as a group, are more sensitive, more intelligent and more creative than the general population. He observed that it is our sensitive/intelligent/creative nature that makes us more susceptible to alcohol, drugs, and other addictions.

It is a deeply spiritual hunger — a longing to go home, back to Source. Addiction is a soul disease where the spirit wars with the flesh.

Once we begin to understand this, we can open channels into healing and destroy stigmas around what it means to be an addict.

Substance abuse is a buzzword on the lips of so many people today. It’s such a common phenomenon that it’s no surprise to learn there are thousands who are secretly addicted. It’s like a cult of the addicted. And no one is shying away from the subject matter either. People talk candidly about substance use disorders and write books about their struggles.

Being open about addiction allows us to see who we truly are. Whether we believe it’s through genetics or epigenetics, the fact remains: we have not shied away from addictive behavior during our time on planet Earth. So if anything, it looks like it’s our destiny. The birth of human comes with trauma and that alone is enough to push us into cravings.

View the original article at thefix.com

23 November 2018
The Myths & Methods of Mindfulness Meditation

I kept cravings at bay with 12-step meetings and counseling but continued to seek meaning and purpose that would lead to lasting sobriety. Then I found mindfulness meditation.

I was raised to believe meditation was wicked. Along with yoga, Buddha, incense, and anything symbolizing or hinting of Eastern religion or ritual. The rationale? Meditation clears our minds of all thought, therefore leaving us susceptible to other-worldly suggestion and worse: evil energy.

The caution filled me with dread. If my mind was “cleared,” I would become vulnerable to Satan’s control, and then anything was possible. I pictured myself a savage, meditating zombie, turning violent or psychotic, doomed to Hades.

One too many chants of “om” and I’d transform into a freckle-faced, redhead Linda Blair. These fears were very real in the congregation of my childhood church. It would be decades before I’d be comfortable enough to engage in yoga for physical health, much less find spirituality and sobriety on a cushion, while flooding my nostrils with the heady smoke of palo santo. (A decadent alternative to smudging sage I highly recommend.)

Despite the best intentions of my religiously conservative upbringing, by 30 I was tragically addicted to opiate painkillers and drinking IPA instead of orange juice alongside my oatmeal in the morning. I was in trouble. Desperate to quit.

Limping along in 12-step meetings and counseling sessions, I kept cravings at bay but continued to seek meaning and purpose that would lead to lasting sobriety.

Two events occurred that significantly impacted the direction of my recovery, leading to the life of sobriety and joy I’d been dreaming of. First, my counselor suggested I attend a course called “Mindfulness-Based Relapse Prevention.” (MBRP) Second, I heard Russell Brand in an interview share how he utilized transcendental meditation to help him kick heroin.

“If Russell Brand can do it,” I thought, “surely I’m not hopeless!”

I’d long since abandoned strict religion, expanded my worldview, and earned a Bachelor of Science. But I still had misconceptions to overcome. From a distance, meditation and mindfulness seemed foreign; a bit too “woo” for my nursing background in Western Medicine. But I wanted freedom from addiction more than anything. So I joined the eight-week course my counselor suggested and quickly learned mindfulness is backed by science, not voodoo.

One session of MBRP and I was hooked in the best way. The gentle, individualized format reinforced compassion and welcomed curiosity. My heart felt as if it had come home.

While presumably not as radical as my own youthful conditioning, limiting beliefs and inaccuracies are a common barrier to people trying out meditation. Whether you’re sober-curious, or the top coin-earning member of your local recovery program, meditation may boost your well-being to new heights. Don’t fall for the following myths.

Myth: Meditation means clearing the mind of thoughts.

Method: Mindfulness Meditation consists of observing, training, and focusing thoughts; not eliminating them. The sign of a “good meditator” is not the capacity to make the mind go blank or think nothing. Many people fear they’re incapable of meditating because of incessant, restless, racing or overwhelmed thoughts.

The truth is, all humans are continuously thinking; that’s just our minds doing what minds do best. Meditation improves our capacity to understand and even train the mind. No person’s brain is too chaotic to practice, it may just take some of us longer to discover successful techniques and cultivate these new skills.

With time and perseverance, we can improve the quality of our thinking by bringing our awareness to the present moment. We detach from stressful, negative thought patterns, improving focus and concentration. Changing the relationship to our thoughts is an especially powerful tool in maintaining sobriety. And since cognitive function and personal control are fully intact, no need to panic; outside forces won’t hijack your brain for evil intent.

Myth: Meditation is a religious ritual.

Method: Meditation can be associated with religious ritual or tradition. So can most modern medicine, if you follow it back in time far enough. The history of medicine and healing intersects heavily with religion, and the earliest healers were shamans and apothecaries.

Prior to scientific method and evidence-based practice, religion, magic and superstition formed the basis for treatments and remedies. With nearly 40 years of scientific research and present day MRI as a diagnostic tool, Western culture can appreciate what Yogis have known for centuries: Mindfulness works. And if mindfulness is the foundational concept, meditation is the practical tool. Meditation has roots in a multitude of religions, including Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, and Judaism. It’s prudent to understand and honor this, however, no doctrine or dogma is necessary.

And one doesn’t need to feel they’ve betrayed their personal faith by practicing meditation; it’s a tool that spans the spectrum of spirituality from atheism to fundamentalism. Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction is a secular mind-body intervention that has been shown to help relieve patient’s suffering and enhance coping skills for chronic pain, stress, and illness – including addiction and alcoholism.

This program and others like it are becoming increasingly accessible and acceptable to the general population, as research enlightens us to the benefits. Mindful meditation is a powerful tool in sobriety, helping to manage cravings, foster resilience and better our relationship to ourselves and the world.

Buddhist-inspired recovery like Refuge Recovery, while non-religious, explicitly promotes compassion, lovingkindness, generosity and forgiveness. And who doesn’t want a big heaping dose of that throughout their recovery journey?

Myth: Meditation requires sitting in Lotus pose on a cushion.

Method: There’s no perfect position to meditate. Formal practice is often accomplished while sitting upright, with eyes closed or a gentle gaze toward the floor. An upright posture keeps us relaxed but alert, diminishes distractions and prevents sleepiness. But the essence of mindfulness is compassionate awareness, not physical punishment.

I’ve heard Dave Smith of Against The Stream, begin his meditation instructions with these words: “Find a posture that is good enough for you.” Personally, I can’t sit with my legs crossed – much less in proper Lotus Pose. My feet fall asleep, the pain disrupting my flow. Some may say that’s an aversion I need to work with….and maybe some day I will.

For now, I find what’s good enough in the moment. If the physical position causes you to cringe, try sitting with your back supported in a chair and your feet flat on the floor. It may be comfortable to lie down with a small pillow under your head or knees. There are many different chairs, benches, seats and cushion choices these days, making meditation accessible and comfortable for nearly anyone, not just those who can achieve instagram worthy Lotus level.

Myth: Meditation is sitting in silence for hours.

Method: Silence means being alone with our thoughts, a scary precedent for many of us, especially in early sobriety. With four years of consistent practice, I still feel anxious if the lesson calls for extended silence. If the quiet puts you off, experiment with guided meditations.

YouTube has an array of 60-second mindful exercises. Free Apps such as Aura and Insight Timer offer a seemingly endless assortment, with many in as little as three minutes. In just this brief amount of time, you can reset your daily intentions and regain mental clarity. Don’t beat yourself up if you plateau at the 10-minute mark or flee from the room when silence becomes unbearable.

Mindful recovery teaches us to tolerate the discomforts in life – perhaps that starts with the silence on the cushion. Or perhaps for you, guided is the way to go. Either way, it takes gentle patience and persistence. This is personal training for the brain, not a quick fix for enlightenment.

Myth: Meditation happens on a cushion in a monastery.

Method: Mindfulness meditation can happen anytime, anywhere, and isn’t practiced with a goal of perfect meditation under perfect conditions. It’s meant to help us get better at life. To help us develop compassionate, wise responses to external and internal stimuli. Some mindfulness can and should be done in ordinary spaces.

For example, you can try an everyday task such as hand-washing or brushing your teeth mindfully. Similarly, eating meditations (like this raisin meditation) are a great method for concentrating the mind, expanding perspective, and cultivating awareness of the present moment.

Integrating mindfulness into your lifestyle is the ultimate desired outcome. Just don’t attempt meditation while driving your car or operating heavy machinery!

Mindfulness meditation can be a vital tool for successful sobriety. It improves our ability to live in the present moment, nurture ourselves and others with compassion and tolerate discomfort without reaching for substances to numb the pain. Let go of myths and misconceptions and begin practice today to start experiencing the rewards of living mindfully.

There are many types of meditation. This article discusses Mindfulness Meditation specifically, which is just one form of the practice. Resources for mindful/meditation recovery programs include but are not limited to: Refuge Recovery (Buddhist inspired, non-religious), Eight Step Recovery (Buddhist Path) and Mindfulness Based Relapse Prevention (science-based). Go here for other types of meetings in your area.

Tiffany Swedeen, RN, BSN, CPC/CPRC is a certified life and recovery coach, She Recovers Designated Coach, and a registered nurse in recovery herself from opioids and alcohol. Tiffany lives “sober out loud,” proudly sharing her story through advocacy and blogging and is passionate about helping others do the same. Her goal is to eradicate shame and empower all to live a life of radical self-love. You can contact Tiffany through her website Recover and Rise, read her blog www.scrubbedcleanrn.com and follow her @scrubbedcleanrn.

View the original article at thefix.com

22 November 2018