Answer Addiction

Author: The Fix

  • Sober Dating: Overcoming Triggers & Temptations

    Sober Dating: Overcoming Triggers & Temptations

    The date turned out to be a boobytrap of triggers that I wasn’t totally prepared for. But mindfulness, resilience, accountability – recovery – kicked in when I needed it most.

    I startled as my phone buzzed a text against my thigh. It was my date.

    “I’m late, but I’ve got tacos!”

    Relax, I urged myself, taking a breath and taking in the surroundings. It’s going to be fine. It’s just tacos.

    This was my first date in well over six months. Unless you include a Saturday night in late August while I vacationed in Iceland. We ran all over Reykjavik searching for traditional lamb meat soup, to no avail. It was whimsical, it was carefree, but it was all the way in Iceland. And it didn’t even end with a kiss. This taco rendezvous felt like a legitimate return from a dating hiatus. 

    Dating is challenging. Sober dating can be truly precarious. First of all, I have very little courtship experience. My M.O. has always been meet, mate, marry. Eventually, I learned not to wed every guy who showed interest. Twenty years of consecutive long-term relationships meant that at 36 years old I became sober and legitimately single, for the first time in decades. SCARY.

    At the very least, it’s uncomfortable. And why do so many of us drink? To treat discomfort! “Meeting for drinks” is both neutral ground, and grants permission for each party to self-medicate throughout the ordeal. 

    It’s natural to want a strong drink (or in my case a strong drink and maybe a powerful pill) to relax. When I’m home getting ready, agonizing over my hair, outfit, and what to say, “just one” would go a long way towards numbing my nerves. But “just one” steers me down a dangerous path. Before I know it, I’d be back on stage at POP-Solo karaoke, blackout wasted, singing “Sexy Back” off key. (ALLEGEDLY! There’s no evidence.) It’s just not worth the risk. 

    Deciding when, or whether to “out myself” as sober to a guy is always a gamble. He had mentioned “wine” more than once as a suggestion for our first activity. (An early red flag I adeptly ignored). Refusing a glass in the moment can be difficult and awkward, so I casually commented prior to the date, “I actually don’t drink…but if you want wine, it’s cool.” When he didn’t respond with the all-too-common: “Really?? You don’t drink ever??!!??” my optimism was buoyed.

    So I waited for Taco Guy with zero alcoholic pre-lubrication, counting breaths as a healthy coping mechanism instead of throwing back shots at the bar. He arrived, tall and attractive. He had a large bag of local Mexican food in one hand, a spirited canine attached to a leash in the other. He even brought me a Fresca, remembering my preference for sparkling water. Fresca is no La Croix, but he got points for thoughtfulness. 

    The date started out smoother than expected. As dinner wrapped up, he clumsily remarked he wasn’t sure what to do next. “Normally I’d take you to a bar, go wine tasting…something revolving around drinks.” My teetotaling ways left him at a loss. 

    I remember those days, pre-sobriety. Alcohol: a necessary ingredient for every situation. I once turned down an otherwise solid, yet sober guy over this. “Sorry, beer is seriously that important to me. I practically live at breweries. We’ll have nothing in common!” 

    Taco Guy was stressed about what we wouldn’t get to do together in future meetings. “Wine tasting? BBQs and Beer? How do you have fun without drinking?” 

    In nearly two years of sobriety, I’ve hardly been bored. I secretly questioned his capability for booze-free entertainment, but stayed aloof. “Anything you can do with alcohol, you can do without. I promise. I’m super fun.“

    “Do you do anything bad?” he asked skeptically. I laughed out loud, thinking how he’d probably never know the truth about my former IV drug use and three years left in probation. 

    “Trust me,” I assured him. “I’m not all good.”

    He had a teasing smile. “Oh yeah?” Sweetly persistent and skilled at flattery, he convinced me to bring our dogs to his place. They could play in the backyard and we could watch Netflix. 

    What the hell, I thought. Prove you can be fun!

    Within 15 minutes, I was standing in his small, tidy apartment. He’d called me beautiful and made his interest in me obvious. Did this mean we were going to make out? Was I ready? Do I make the first move? What are the rules?

    In the past, this was easy. Drink, flirt, and use alcohol as an excuse for whatever indiscretion occurred. Sober dating is not easy. Sober sex is on a whole other level. 

    He spoke, blessedly interrupting my thoughts. “I’m going to have a whiskey, do you mind? I’m really nervous.” 

    “Go ahead, of course!” I answered bravely, but thought REALLY?!?! Not fair!! I’m stone cold sober, trying to navigate first date rules, and you get to wash away your worries with hard liquor while I sip water to tame my cottonmouth. UGH!

    He poured a hefty amount of Jack Daniels over ice, and I took the opportunity to use the bathroom. 

    Shutting the door behind me, I leaned against it, worrying. Is he going to kiss me? Or more? Is my deodorant still working? Should I wash under my arms? I should use his mouthwash!

    The mirror reflected back glossy color on my freshly styled hair, nervous rosy cheeks, and a trace of pink lipstick that had mostly wiped off on the Fresca. I looked decent. I’m not a bad catch, for a sober chick. Wait, what if he tastes like liquor? Is it weird if I ask him to use mouthwash? No that’s crazy. Or is it? 

    Leaning into the sink to wash my hands, a familiar sight stood out on the countertop: the bright, cunning orange of a medicine vial. Right there, in plain sight. No cupboard snooping necessary. 

    My vision went fuzzy on the edges. Drying my hands on a towel, I waited for the buzzing feeling to dissipate. I’ve been sober awhile, but I’m not immune to triggers. Medication bottles are not just benign bathroom articles. 

    I chewed on my bottom lip and thought over my next move. One of the labels was readily visible: “Metoprolol.” Phew, I thought. Heart medicine. No big deal. Without warning, my hand took over and snatched up another bottle, turning it label side up. 

    Hydrocodone-acetaminophen. Otherwise known as Vicodin.

    Fuck.

    I set it back down, but picked up another. 

    Oxycodone hydrochloride. Percocet.

    Double fuck. 

    Opiates were my drug of choice, my former best friend and the most seductive, manipulative, toxic lover I’ve ever tangled with. 

    Setting the menacing vial down, I stepped away from the sink, clenching my hands at my sides. 

    I could take a couple. 

    It only took a second for the thought to formulate. I envisioned the euphoric, care-free feeling. Pictured worrisome “first date rules” slipping away, letting go and enjoying the moment.  

    Picking up the bottle once more, I shook it lightly.  

    How many are in here? I bet he wouldn’t notice any missing. 

    The thought was brief. But it was charged with deadly potential. Lucky for me, mindful recovery teaches me I don’t have to believe my thoughts. I have a choice.

    I don’t want this. It isn’t me anymore.

    I extricated myself from the bathroom, delivered from temptation. 

    Taco Guy was on his second tumbler and had stepped outside to smoke. Menthols. Of course! My brand. At least they were, once upon a time. This date presented landmines everywhere I turned. 

    Against my better judgment, I stayed long enough to play with fire. Taco Guy is pretty hot, kind and gainfully employed. I wasn’t planning a future together, but I hadn’t yet ruled out seeing where the night would go. Holding a menthol between my fingertips, I said flirtatiously “It’s been awhile.” I took a drag, hoping I looked dangerous and sexy. Coughing, I just ended up likely looking like a silly girl who hadn’t inhaled in awhile. 

    I stayed long enough to smoke the cigarette and regret it. Long enough to sulk and wish things were different. It’s not fair. I don’t want to be an addict. I want to be normal – I want to be able to get drunk and make out. I wished, for a moment, that Taco Guy and I weren’t so incompatible.

    While I pouted privately, I knew I was kidding myself. The truth is, we are incompatible and I was uncomfortable. I don’t really wish I could drink and have an excuse for my behavior. I definitely don’t wish I could take his pills or go back to using. What I guess I really wanted was just to be on a date where I could be my honest, open, sober-out-loud self. 

    I don’t want to date if I can’t be real. That probably means when I’m genuinely ready, I’ll date guys who are also in recovery. I’d questioned this when I first became single and sober. Who do I date? Can I date someone who drinks regularly? I got my answer this night.  

    Crushing the cigarette in a well-used ashtray, I reached for my keys. 

    He looked rejected. “You’re leaving? I promise to be a gentleman. We’ll just watch a movie.” 

    Within a couple hours in his presence, I’d given in to smoking. Next, I might ask for a sip of whiskey. Once the brown liquid passed my lips, burning the back of my throat, I’d slink into the bathroom. Tilting the bottle of Vicodin back and forth, contemplating the siren song as the pills clicked against one another. 

    Nope. Not gonna happen. I love myself too much to go back there. 

    Driving home, I felt a mix of relief, pride, and sorrow. And a touch of nausea from the cigarette. When was the last time I’d looked a bottle of pills in the face and walked away? 

    The date turned out to be a boobytrap of triggers that I wasn’t totally prepared for. But mindfulness, resilience, accountability – recovery – kicked in when I needed it most. I was tempted, but not overwhelmed. I won that battle.  

    A few days later, Taco Guy texted. I had to be firm and honest. “I can’t date someone who drinks. That’s become very clear. Thanks, and good luck.”

    To my surprise, he replied with a compromise:

    “I shouldn’t drink either. I’ll try to stop. You could be a huge support and help to me with this.”

    As if the triple threat – alcohol, cigarettes and pills – wasn’t enough, co-dependency alarms rang in my ears. The final red flag was flown. 

    Firmly informing him that his request was wildly inappropriate, I blocked his number. 

    Over the last 20+ years, I’ve made really disappointing, damaging relationships decisions. Looking back, all I manage is, “What the fuck were you thinking?” 

    Just for once, I’d like to look at my life and think, “Well done, girl. You’re doing your best. It’s not easy, it’s not painless, but you’re making smart choices.“

    I think that time might be now. I could be doing it right for once. Saying “yes” to a drama free, recovery-centric era of radical self-love. Saying “no” to drugs, alcohol, and self-destructive behavior one nerve-wracking date at a time. 

    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

  • Russell Brand On Rock Bottom, Importance Of 12-Step Fellowship

    Russell Brand On Rock Bottom, Importance Of 12-Step Fellowship

    “Sharing your story with another addict, as I did in my recovery, proved vital. Nothing I said to this person was too boring or terrible or trivial to him.”

    Russell Brand never shies from talking about his experience with addiction and recovery.

    Ahead of attending Wellspring, the three-day “wellness festival” happening in Palm Springs Oct. 26-28, where he’ll be the keynote speaker, Brand spoke with the Los Angeles Times about hitting rock bottom, living mindfully, and the importance of fellowship.

    “I hit rock bottom in 2003 with an addiction to heroin, which had cost me a job at MTV, a radio show, friends and girlfriends,” said Brand, who began using drugs at age 19.

    He used heroin for four years before his manager and friend Chip Sommers put things in perspective, telling him “I’d wind up either in a prison, lunatic asylum or graveyard.”

    He started going to a 12-step program, which he benefits from to this day. By accessing the support of others, he learned the importance of having a sense of community that the 12-step program provided.

    “Inevitably, when reason wanes, when the spiritual experience wanes, being part of a community lets you remind one another. Addicts yearn for some sense of connection that makes them feel more healed, more whole, more happy,” he said. “Sharing your story with another addict, as I did in my recovery, proved vital. Nothing I said to this person was too boring or terrible or trivial to him. He related to me—and the disconnectedness that I had always felt lifted. And so did the need to take drugs.”

    Brand also relies on a daily regimen of meditation—“a shower for the brain”—and exercise.

    “You have to design your own program, what’s right for your body and your mind,” he said. “For me meditation is not nearly enough. I need exercise too. And community.”

    In his 2017 book Recovery: Freedom From Our Addictions, Brand chronicles his path to recovery and shares wisdom accumulated from over a decade sober.

    In the book, the comedian, actor, activist and advocate for addiction recovery and mental health adapts the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous in his own expletive-laced words.

    “[Now] I don’t struggle with [addictive] urges because the program I live by helps me remain serene and prevents those urges from arriving,” he said. “If I feel those urges—even though I don’t feel them so often because I’m working the program—I talk to other people and I do stuff for other people and I meditate and pray. There’s a whole sort of series put in place for when I feel those urges.”

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Keira Knightley Talks PTSD, Dealing With Early Fame

    Keira Knightley Talks PTSD, Dealing With Early Fame

    In a new interview, Knightley revealed the toll that sudden fame took on her mental health after the box office success of Pirates of the Caribbean.

    Keira Knightley first broke through to stardom with the film Bend It Like Beckham in 2002, then she hit the jackpot with the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. But early fame was very difficult for her to handle, and as she tells The Hollywood Reporter, she was diagnosed with PTSD after having “a mental breakdown at 22.”

    Knightley says the run of Pirates sequels “was completely insane – from the outside you’re like, ‘Whoa, that was hit after hit after hit!’ But from the inside, all you’re hearing is the criticism.”

    Knightley’s insecurities about being a young actress festered. “I was aware that I didn’t know what I was doing, you know? I didn’t know my trade, I didn’t know my craft. I knew that there was something that worked sometimes, but I didn’t know how to kind of capture that.”

    Being in the tabloids was hard to deal with as well. “I didn’t handle it well,” she reveals. “It was a really rude awakening to he world of misogyny…I never experienced that level of hatred on a day-to-day basis. There was a sense of, like, battle every day of leaving the house.”

    After Knightley suffered her mental breakdown at 22, “I did take a year off there and was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder because of all that stuff.”

    Knightley traveled for a year, saying it “gave me that space I needed to be able to start again. I felt pretty much like I sort of didn’t exist and I was this weird creature with this weird face that people seemed to respond to in quite an extreme way, and I couldn’t quite figure any of it out.”

    Knightley also felt her family helped her through this dark time in her life, and she adds, “I can really enjoy things now. I look back and I just sort of want to give myself a hug and be like, ‘Oh, you’re doing all right, you’ll be all right.’”

    In 2015, Knightley spoke to Elle about therapy. “I highly recommended it. I don’t do it at the moment. But in my early 20s when I found everything completely overwhelming, 100%, I did it! I think when you’re in those moments in your life, and you want to get through them…you have to do whatever it is to help you get over it. You have to give it a go. Try anything that might help.” 

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • King of the Bums

    King of the Bums

    If you’re an addict like I am, then maybe you have these issues with self-esteem, fear, an enormous desire to be liked, an ego the size of Texas and hatred of anyone or anything you feel inferior to.

    I didn’t stroll into recovery willingly. The first time I ever got sober was definitely not by choice. It was a requirement lovingly handed down to me by the wonderful Florida Department of Corrections. They told me to get sober, piss clean once a week, and attend meetings or go to prison. I never wanted to stop using the first time. I just didn’t want to end up in jail. Sure, I had managed to destroy my life and ruin any meaningful relationship I ever had, but that wasn’t enough motivation to stop me from getting high. The fear of going up-the-road terrified me. The fear of walking into a state penitentiary and walking out a gang member with a face tattoo scared the living hell out of me.

    Growing up, everyone always told me that I was a chameleon. I have the ability to effortlessly blend into any situation no matter the surroundings; it’s in the way I walk, the way I talk, reading someone’s body language and matching it with my own little nuances to make them feel comfortable, picking up on choice words in an individual’s vocabulary and using it myself. Whatever the scene is, I have the script. Needless to say, improvising comes easy for me. It’s no wonder that I became a musician and started performing regularly. The stage and the spotlight are my warm blanket.

    The ability to improvise on the fly and blend in with any situation comes very handy when someone is trying to get high. When it comes to interacting with shady people on the streets and within your local dope-hole, the art of blending in and belonging is vital, not to mention the gift of gab. You got to get in, get it for the right price, and get out.

    The problem is that this particular skill set can become a huge detriment when getting sober. The ability to acclimate to any surrounding can kill you if you’re in a setting that demands complete transparency. If you’re living in a halfway house with about a dozen different personalities, being able to get along is a big deal. Convincing the house manager that you’re making the right choices and not getting high is important. You need to be trusted, you need to blend in, and most important, you need to stay off everyone’s radar. You don’t need a random piss test to ruin the party now do you?

    So here’s where the even bigger problem lies. If you’re an addict/alcoholic like I am, then maybe you have these deep core issues with self-esteem, personal acceptance, a huge amount of fear, thoughts of loneliness, an enormous desire to be liked, an ego the size of Texas and hatred towards anyone or anything you feel inferior to. I’ve heard it put this way and I’m sure you have too: We’re ego-maniacs with an inferiority complex.

    Sounds like we have a little boy/girl deep within us that needs to grow up, doesn’t it? And when we stop putting mood- or mind-altering substances into our body, we’re put on a collision course with that inner child. This child is trapped inside of a full-grown adult trying to figure out how to stay sober because, let’s face it, arrested development is a real thing. The moment we started self-medicating was the moment we stopped growing up.

    When I got to my first residential inpatient treatment center, I was placed smack-dab in the middle of this enormous community of junkies. Some trying to get sober, others trying to avoid jail-time, and others there simply because they had no place to call home. The little boy inside me was terrified. Will I fit in? Is anyone going to like me? Will I be able to stay and graduate in six months?

    Immediately I did what I’ve been doing my whole life: I blended in. I got with the “winners” because that’s what was recommended and I started acting like them. I got into recovery because they were all about recovery. I was familiar with the recovery-lingo already so that wasn’t an issue. I attended groups, I went to meetings, and wouldn’t you know it, I started walking like them and talking just like them. I kept my secrets to myself, I did everything in my power to impress the powers-that-be and I made sure that everyone knew how talented I was. Luckily for me, they had a band there. And guess what? They needed a piano player. This is going to work out just fine. I’ll just join the band, avoid getting into trouble and skate my way to graduation.

    I’ve heard people say in recovery that sometimes you’ve got to fake it until you make it. They say that with the hopes that somewhere along the way, all that faking slowly turns in a real desire to be different. But if you’re used to lying all the time and wearing masks just to be accepted, if you’re used to being that chameleon and reading from a script, all that faking never really turns into anything legit and fruitful for your recovery. You kind of just set yourself up for failure. And that’s exactly what I did.

    I graduated the program, but I enjoyed my time there so much that I decided to stay for another six months. I did that until the treatment center hired me. Can you believe that? They hired me! What a joke.

    I wasn’t ready. I didn’t do the work required to stay sober. I was just “that guy.” “Star Boy” is what my friends called me there. I remember my roommate calling me “The Chosen One.” This is bad. But I got exactly what I wanted, so why the heck am I so miserable? Maybe because I never worked on growing up. I never confronted my inner child and dealt with the real core issues of my addiction. Getting sober is easy. Sobriety in general is simple. It’s the emotional sobriety and uncovering the layers of who I am and learning to love myself that’s paramount. I robbed myself of that journey. I took myself out of the game by choosing to be the coolest guy in rehab.

    Here’s the thing about this treatment center. This isn’t the one you find nestled on the beach with your peer-led-groups, full-body massages, custom fruit smoothies, etc. This is the rehab you go to when you’ve exhausted all other resources. The one you end up in when you can no longer afford the nice treatment centers you see advertised on this site. This is the last house on the left; the one that doesn’t cost a dime. The homeless rehab in the same neighborhood you’ve been getting high in.

    Congratulations, you’re the coolest kid in homeless rehab. Everyone bow down to the king of the bums. You made it.

    It’s no surprise that the day I moved out of the place is the day I got high. I didn’t see it coming… but I saw it coming. You know what I mean.

    It wasn’t long before I found myself knocking on the doors of the same facility to let me back in. I had nowhere else to go and heroin yet again had beaten me to a pulp. I remember getting out of detox and walking up the sidewalk. This guy that works there stopped me while I was walking in and asked me what I was going to do different. It was a rhetorical question because he didn’t wait for my answer. What came next was the single most important piece of advice I ever received. He didn’t say anything I hadn’t heard before but it was the first time I truly heard it and received it. I had beaten myself emotionally with this last relapse so badly that I truly believe my ears finally opened up. I was ready to listen and do something different.

    He told me to forget about who I was. Forget about everything I think I know because I know nothing. All I know how to do is get high. He told me that I don’t know how to get sober. He told me to shut the hell up and listen. He said I had to do this for me and nobody else. He told me that I’m not here to impress anyone or make friends. He reminded me that I suffer from a disease that wants me dead. He told me that I didn’t come to an indigent rehab to play music; I came there to get sober.

    I love him for that. I aspire to be like him one day. I admire him. His tongue is sharp and his recovery is sharper. His words haunt me every day. They keep me in check while I learn how to deal with the little boy deep within my soul.

    Slowly but surely, the masks are coming off. This uncomfortable yet beautiful journey of self-discovery is full of rewards. Today I choose to stay sober and enjoy them as they come my way; never throwing in the towel on the days I don’t hit the mark.

    If nobody told you today that they love you, fuck it, there’s always tomorrow.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Lady Gaga & WHO Director Pen Essay For World Mental Health Day

    Lady Gaga & WHO Director Pen Essay For World Mental Health Day

    The duo call for additional treatment funding and the need for governments to better prioritize mental wellness in the essay.

    Mental health issues are universal—and costly without proper treatment—so why is mental illness still a taboo subject?

    That question is raised by Lady Gaga and Tedros Adhanom, director-general of the World Health Organization, in a new essay published in the Guardian on the eve of World Mental Health Day (Oct. 10): “800,000 people kill themselves every year. What can we do?”

    This annual statistic translates to “more than the population of Washington, D.C., Oslo or Cape Town,” they write. “Sometimes they are famous names such as Anthony Bourdain or Kate Spade that make headlines, but they are all sons or daughters, friends or colleagues, valued members of families and communities.”

    Globally, suicide is the second-leading cause of death among 15- to 29-year-olds, yet mental health receives less than 1% of global aid, they write.

    This lack of funding translates to a higher cost overall—mental health issues cost $2.5 trillion a year globally, which will keep rising if they continue to be excluded from the conversation.

    “Stigma, fear and lack of understanding compound the suffering of those affected and prevent the bold action that is so desperately needed and so long overdue,” they write.

    Gaga (born Stefani Germanotta) and Adhanom urge governments to invest in mental health services, saying it will not only help individuals but benefit state coffers as well.

    “Research shows there is a fourfold return on investment for every dollar spent on treating depression and anxiety, the most common mental health conditions, making spending on the issue a great investment for both political leaders and employers, in addition to generating savings in the health sector,” they write.”

    Individuals have a part to play too, by supporting one another and urging lawmakers to make mental health a priority. “We can all help to build communities that understand, respect and prioritize mental wellness,” they write.

    The essay cites local efforts that are moving the momentum in a positive direction, such as the ThriveNYC initiative in New York City.

    Germanotta—who previously revealed that she lives with PTSD—spearheads the Born This Way Foundation, established in 2012, with her mother Cynthia Germanotta. The foundation focuses on young people with the goal of creating a “kinder and braver world.”

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Maryland Funeral Directors: We're The "Last Responders" To Opioid Crisis

    Maryland Funeral Directors: We're The "Last Responders" To Opioid Crisis

    Funeral directors in the state claim that safety has become an issue when dealing with opioid overdose victims. 

    Proactive funeral directors in Maryland are stocking up on naloxone, the opioid overdose antidote, as they’ve seen a dramatic increase in the number of opioid-related deaths.

    They’re calling themselves the “last responders” to Maryland’s opioid crisis, the Baltimore Sun reports.

    In 2017, the Tri-County Funeral Directors Association launched an awareness campaign in local newspapers to notify communities that “We Don’t Want Your Business” when it comes to opioid abuse.

    “We see a side of this tragic epidemic that many don’t see,” said association president James Schwartz. “The devastation families are facing is heartbreaking.”

    Schwartz tells the Baltimore Sun that other funeral home directors have known not only family members, but funeral home guests “who have come and had either an opioid reaction in the parking lot or other areas during the service time.” 

    “This has caused the folks stress because not only are they grieving this person and now somebody else is having the same tragic result,” Schwartz said.

    The National Funeral Directors Association urges members to protect themselves while handling deceased victims of opioid overdose.

    “Coming into contact with a minuscule dose of fentanyl or carfentanil can be fatal,” the association warns. (This point is oft-repeated, but harm reduction and addiction/recovery advocates say it’s merely a harmful myth.)

    “The opioid crisis presents unique challenges for funeral directors, from working with families whose loved one has died from an overdose to protecting themselves from harm when handling the body of an overdose victim during removal or embalming,” says the funeral directors association.

    In 2017, opioid overdose deaths continued to climb in Maryland, accounting for the majority of drug/alcohol-related deaths—2,009 of 2,282 overdoses were opioid-related, according to the state’s Department of Health.

    “This is an escalating epidemic,” said Baltimore Health Commissioner Dr. Leana Wen, whose city saw the worst of the opioid crisis. “But still we don’t even see the peak of this epidemic yet.”

    In response, Maryland schools and libraries are also stocking up on naloxone. “The rule of thumb is: when in doubt, use it,” said funeral director Jeffrey L. Gair.

    The antidote is there “if there’s ever the need while we’re on duty at the funeral home,” Gair said.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Is The White House Waging A "Secret War" On Marijuana?

    Is The White House Waging A "Secret War" On Marijuana?

    The administration’s Marijuana Policy Coordination Committee may be responsible for hindering marijuana legalization. 

    Trump has said in the past that he supports states’ rights to establish their own marijuana policies—yet according to a report by BuzzFeed News, administration officials are waging a “secret war on weed” to push back on support of marijuana legalization across the country.

    Rolling Stone says the Office of National Drug Control Policy (ONDCP) confirmed the existence of the Marijuana Policy Coordination Committee, but “stopped short of confirming” that the goal of the coalition of federal agencies was to shed a negative light on marijuana legalization.

    Members of Congress confirm that the White House’s actions contradict what Trump has said about marijuana policy—leading them to wonder: “Is there someone within the Trump administration directing a negative marijuana message?” as a senior congressional staffer put it.

    “Every time I speak to someone in the administration, despite what the president has said, they tell me it isn’t happening. My question is, who is in charge over there? It borders on ridiculous,” Rep. Tom Garrett of Virginia told Rolling Stone.

    On multiple occasions, Trump has said that he supports a state’s right to choose how it handles marijuana policy. “In terms of marijuana and legalization, I think that should be a state issue, state-by-state,” he said at a 2015 campaign rally in Sparks, Nevada.

    “The president is right on this issue,” said Garrett. “The gatekeepers need to do their job, not undermine good policy.”

    Some point to U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions as the main force within the administration that’s fighting marijuana policy reform. “I’ve discussed marijuana policy with senior White House officials, cabinet members and the president,” said Rep. Matt Gaetz of Florida. “My personal assessment is that the attorney general is the problem.”

    Jeff Sessions is notoriously anti-marijuana. The 71-year-old former senator from Alabama—who once said “Good people don’t smoke marijuana”—has made it a point to enforce, and enhance, the federal prohibition of marijuana.

    “I don’t think America is going to be a better place when people of all ages, and particularly young people, are smoking pot,” the attorney general said in February 2017. “I believe it’s an unhealthy practice, and current levels of THC in marijuana are very high compared to what they were a few years ago, and we’re seeing real violence around that.”

    In response to Sessions’ renewed “war on drugs,” bipartisan legislation has been introduced in the Senate to protect state marijuana policy.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • First-Ever Case Of Netflix Addiction Being Treated In India

    First-Ever Case Of Netflix Addiction Being Treated In India

    The man would turn on Netflix first thing in the morning and binge-watch shows and movies for more than seven hours every day. 

    Internet addiction disorder is not officially recognized in the Diagnostic Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), but it’s very much a reality for some.

    A serious case of digital addiction in India highlights the serious effects of getting hooked on technology. According to The Hindu, last week a 26-year-old man became the first “Netflix addict” to seek treatment at the Service for Healthy Use of Technology (SHUT) clinic at the National Institute of Mental Health and Neurosciences in Bangalore.

    The man would turn on Netflix first thing in the morning and binge-watch shows and movies for more than seven hours every day to escape the reality of being unemployed. He did this for six months, the Hindu reports.

    “Whenever his family pressurized him to earn a living, or when he saw his friends doing well, he would watch the shows on offer continuously,” said Manoj Kumar Sharma, a clinical psychologist at SHUT. “It was a method of escapism. He could forget about his problems, and he derived immense pleasure from it.”

    SHUT was established in 2014 to help people experiencing a “pattern of excessive use of technology.” Sharma and his team help address the problematic use of technology and replace the technology with healthy activities, build coping skills and strengthen a patient’s support network.

    The unidentified patient—who experienced fatigue, disturbed sleep and eye strain as a result of his Netflix habit—was put on a regimen of relaxation exercises, therapy and career counseling at SHUT, according to the Print.

    Sharma said that many of his patients who excessively watch TV and movies on streaming platforms also struggle with gaming addiction. “The best advice is to avoid the use of technology if it becomes a coping mechanism,” said Sharma.

    While not officially recognized as a mental disorder in the DSM-5, internet addiction disorder affects many—young and old.

    The Hindu notes that children also struggle with digital addiction. “The addiction interferes with the child’s academic performance and counselors are advising students and parents to keep a close watch on the duration and the shows they watch,” said Mansoor Khan, a school official in Bangalore who said they have begun noticing the problem in young students.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Bradley Cooper’s "A Star Is Born" Role Hits Close To Home For Sober Actor

    Bradley Cooper’s "A Star Is Born" Role Hits Close To Home For Sober Actor

    “Anytime you’re trying to tell the truth you need to go to places and use things that have happened to you, or you’ve read about or experienced.”

    As someone in long-term recovery, Bradley Cooper’s role of heavy-drinking musician Jackson Maine in A Star Is Born is one that isn’t too far off from the star’s own experiences in the past, he tells Variety. 

    “Anytime you’re trying to tell the truth you need to go to places and use things that have happened to you, or you’ve read about or experienced,” Cooper said. “And that’s all part of the beauty of turning whatever things you’ve gone through into a story. I find that to be very cathartic. I remember learning that in grad school, our teacher said all the insecurities, all the dark stuff you get to use that and that’s really the truth.”

    The film, which hit theaters Oct. 5, has generated a lot of buzz and is being slotted as an award winner, with Forbes calling it the “movie to beat” at the Oscars. Cooper directed the film and co-starred alongside pop star Lady Gaga. 

    Cooper first spoke publicly about his substance use battles and recovery in 2012, stating he had gotten sober at age 29 after his use of alcohol began affecting his work.

    “I was so concerned [with] what you thought of me, how I was coming across, how I would survive the day,” Cooper said at the time. “I always felt like an outsider. I realized I wasn’t going to live up to my potential, and that scared the hell out of me.

    In 2016, Cooper spoke to Barbara Walters about his recovery, crediting his recovery for his success in his career and his relationships.  

    “I would never be sitting here with you, no way, no chance [if I hadn’t gotten sober,]” he told Walters. “I wouldn’t have been able to have access to myself or other people, or even been able to take in other people, if I hadn’t changed my life. I never would have been able to have the relationships that I do. I never would have been able to take care of my father the way I did when he was sick. So many things.”

    As of Oct. 8, A Star Is Born had earned $44 million in North America and $57 million worldwide. Cooper tells Variety that his biggest hope is that viewers forget they are watching Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga and instead get caught up in the story.

    “I hope you just see the characters, that’s the point. From the opening that was one of the key things in structuring the movie and shooting it. I really want to make sure that you forgot it’s me and that you forgot it’s her right away, otherwise the story won’t work.”

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • "Beautiful Boy" Earns Rave Reviews For Its Raw Portrayal Of Addiction

    "Beautiful Boy" Earns Rave Reviews For Its Raw Portrayal Of Addiction

    The movie is based on the best-selling addiction memoirs by father and son David and Nic Sheff. 

    Steve Carell stars a man trying desperately to save his son from addiction in his new film, Beautiful Boy. 

    The movie, which will be released Oct. 12, is an adaptation of a book by the same name by the journalist David Sheff, and the memoir Tweak, by Sheff’s son Nic.

    While Sheff wrote about trying to help his son, Nic wrote a first-hand account of his addiction. Both books became bestsellers.

    In an interview with Time, Carell said that he is careful not to own the Sheffs’ stories when he speaks about the film. 

    “Talking about the movie is almost as daunting as doing the movie,” Carell said. “You don’t want to speak as if you’re an authority.”

    Carell said that as a parent he related to his character, David, and his desperate bid to find help for Nic.

    “Being a dad, there’s an inherent worry you have as soon as you have kids that never goes away,” Carell said. “To experience them spiraling out of control with absolutely no recourse…” He paused. “David was mourning his son while his son was still alive.”

    Timothée Chalamet plays Nic. The 22-year-old actor said that using drugs has become “masochistically glorified” among youth.

    “Young people have such disillusionment with our post-post-post-industrial world, where student debt is crazy and job opportunities are less afforded to people,” Chalamet said. “Opiates have become the drug of choice, as opposed to drugs in the ’60s like LSD that amplified your surroundings—these are drugs that will numb you regardless of how terrible your environment is, and you’re guaranteed the same feeling each time.”

    He added that he has seen friends struggle with addiction to cope with their negative feelings.

    “There’s a misconception that addicts are using with a great amount of euphoria, when in reality, they’re just keeping up a feeling, or avoiding reality,” Chalamet said.

    Carell and Chalamet said that they hope the film provides a realistic glimpse into the complications and heartbreak of addiction, just like the Sheffs do in their books.

    “Clearly it’s important to us, or else we wouldn’t have done it,” Carell said. “But when you get the question, ‘Why should people see this film?’ How do you even respond to that? Because it’s compelling and emotionally resonant?”

    They also want the movie to build compassion for families touched by addiction.

    “We talk about drug abuse as a moral failing,” Chalamet said. “For us, that’s a hope for the movie: that it starts a conversation to see it not as a taboo.”

    Families that have dealt with addiction will likely relate to what they see onscreen. 

    “People are bracing for a really difficult ending,” Chalamet said. “Or something that ends with a flourish—a montage of hope or something. But this is just scene after scene where we tried to do it as diligently as possible.” 

    “In my understanding, that’s the reality of addiction,” Chalamet said. “It’s one day at a time. You’ve never really won the fight.”

    View the original article at thefix.com