second thoughts

I’m two days into my nicotine-free project: detox and withdrawal. And, though it’s nothing like coming off of something harder, my head is an ironic opera. Every now and then I forget…and when I remember again, like the death of a loved one, the longing is once again as fresh as it was the moment I started this project. Other times I forget my project and look for my vape pen—but before I find it, before I get a chance for relief, I realize what I’m about to do and wither with shame. I read yesterday that things are supposed to get harder for a few weeks following the third day of detox. I’m not looking forward to that.

Before I quit nicotine and became incapable of thinking about anything else, I was thinking a lot about the past. Specifically, the things I have done in the past when I have been under the influence of alcohol or drugs, or—and I was focusing quite a bit on this one in particular—when I have been experiencing a bipolar episode, or having had a psychotic break.

My main question is: to what extent should we be held responsible for the things we do when we are in a psychotic state? What about mania, but not psychosis? We know that our grounding in reality is eroded; we know that our ability to reason is gone; we know that something other than us seems to be sitting in the passenger seat but having an awful lot of say over what we do. (Why do we want to please that voice so much?)

Or maybe I was just hypomanic, was more or less grounded in reality—as much as I could be on old school antipsychotics—and simply do not remember doing something hurtful, ill advised, and destructive. Should my carer have taken the reigns here? Or am I required to take full responsibility of my actions in such a state too? I can’t see how I would have been able to make an informed decision because I had no sense that what I was doing was wrong or hurtful.

What about when I’m nicotine detoxing. Am I responsible for my disoriented behaviors in this hardcore slow-motion life transition?

Kidding aside, I would love to know what the law says about culpability in altered states. It does seem strange to hold a person accountable for what she has done in a psychotic, manic, or detox episode.

tepid coffee

I once laughed out loud at a cartoon of one stick figure holding up a teapot and offering to another: “Tea?” The other stick figure, with a straight-line mouth, says: “No.” The cartoon was titled “Anarchy in the UK”. Having spent quite a bit of time in the UK, I found this hilarious. Mostly because it’s so true.

I was back in the UK this past summer, continually trying to soften my Americanness without losing myself in the process. But I think my anarchic spirit shone through somewhat in my request for coffee when everyone else was having tea. A little bit Boston Tea Party, a tad stick-figure cartoon, and honestly me.

The problem with my unintentional strategy was that British folks drink a lot of tea, and I was drinking coffee to match (in between sleep-inducing conversations about the weather, of course). And now I have something of a habit on my hands.

I now find myself drinking a cup of tepid coffee—my third of the morning, but surely not my last for the day—and thinking about addiction: the substances I’ve been addicted to; the ones I’m still addicted to; and a number of angering conversations with drug counselors who insisted that alcohol abuse and alcohol addiction are the same thing.

Maybe it’s ridiculous to split hairs on this point, but I really don’t think so. Folks with a similar neurological makeup to my own (bipolar, BPD, anxiety disorder) are very likely to abuse drugs and/or alcohol at some point in their lives. It’s a way of managing symptoms—a chaotic and ultimately unhelpful one, but a short-term solution to dealing with incredible psychic pain. And to consider us all addicts because of our tendency to abuse is grossly missing the point. For us, abusing alcohol is a symptom rather than the problem that requires treatment. That being said, I think quite a few of us go on to develop addictions.

I wish I could be addicted to healthy things like drinking green tea and doing yoga daily. But my addictions have always been at least mildly self-destructive. I am thinking about this because I want to quit vaping. I took up smoking again (my oldest “friend”) after my dad died, but switched to vaping because it seemed less harmful to myself and others and is certainly less antisocial.

The idea of being addicted to anything disturbs me. There’s vaping, but also coffee and my dragon game. So, I have a crutch (nicotine), an energy booster (caffeine), and a mode of withdrawal (dragons). All because I can’t do these things for myself? Or because I think I can’t?

I’m also aware that any mind-altering substance is considered harmful in Buddhism. So, there’s always that gnawing at the back of my mind. Dropping these addictions would be Right Action. Yes, it would.

I guess what I really want to say is that weeks ago, I selected a date that would be my last day to vape. That day is tomorrow. Tomorrow now looks to be one of the worst days to quit anything if I plan to be successful at it. I have meetings in the morning discussing a child’s learning difficulties, and appointments in the afternoon discussing the same child’s behavior, which has been making our home life beyond challenging. Basically, I know I’m going to need a crutch tomorrow.

So the question is, do I put it off a day and give myself the best chance of quitting? Or will putting it off only give me a pass to keep going until the “ideal” day comes around? And always, always, the real question behind everything is: how strong am I really? Can I manage to live comfortably without outside help for my emotional stability?

Honestly, I’m not sure I ever have.