“From the beginning? I was born prematurely, four to five months premature. Apparently I was full of crack cocaine, survived that, went into foster care and was adopted at 18 months.” Chris was so casual, as if being born addicted to drugs and being placed in the foster care system was no big deal. Then I reflected on the stories I’ve heard, about my own story even, and realized that maybe the ability to be one step removed emotionally from our own story is a trait we all carry for the sake of surviving.
Chris was raised by his adoptive black family in Dallas Fort-Worth. Childhood was great, and he described his environment as “warm” and he felt like he fit right in. Then he learned that he was adopted. “What changed, the environment?” I asked. “No, it was me,” he replied. There was a change, a shift in Chris. When he was six, his parents sat him down to let him know that a sister was on the way, and she was joining the family exactly as he did, through an adoption. His perception of the world around him was forever altered.
The court had to make sure his home was safe for another child. There were proceedings, meetings, and home visits. He was soon a big brother. Did his behavior change at this age? No. However, Chris had discovered the world was not as it had seemed. He was adopted. Parents put up children for adoption. These were new realizations. Chris asked himself, “What else is there? What else don’t I know?”
He started to wonder. “Where? Who? Why? What?” he said. “All the wondering, really.” “So did you ever find your parents, or look for them?” I asked. “I did,” Chris said. He was 29. He attained unsealed records from his entire adoption process, including his birth records. He was able to read through those. “I found the names. I went to Facebook. There they were.”
“Okay, so did you meet them? Were they together? Were they using? Were they sober? What was it like?” I stopped myself. Sometimes I don’t realize how quickly I can speak, so I took a breath. I often experience the “frenzied speech” behavior that is part of bipolar disorder; if I get excited about something I’ll never stop.
Chris smiled.
“First, I’ll tell you about my mother. She was still using. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, it was rough to meet her, but to be fair, I was extremely drunk at the time as well.” No surprise there—I would be, too. Who wouldn’t get drunk? Well, I suppose a “normal” person wouldn’t; I forget we’re not all the same.
It was the same day that he also met his biological father. And no, not at the same time, (because of course, I asked), but on the same day. His parents are no longer together. His father wasn’t high or drunk to his blurred memory. “To be honest, I’m not sure if my father was or is sober.” They haven’t spoken in two years. He hasn’t seen his mother since the day they met.
The conversation went back to the early days of Chris’s using and drinking. Like many high school students, he began drinking on and off in party settings. “It started then and it felt like it lasted until forever, until I finally stopped. It was still social then. Sometimes the drinks were spiked at parties, sometimes I was with cousins who had access to the liquor cabinets. My drinking didn’t become heavy until I got to college, so I was around 18.”
So how heavy is heavy?
“Thursday through Sunday, every weekend.” I remember those weekends, drunken weekends. The weekends that made it easy to blend in, the weekends where an alcoholic or drug addict might still, albeit falsely, feel a part of the group. The good old days when drinking was the norm and no one judged you yet for your awful hangovers or your reckless behavior. Chris described himself as a “lucid drunk” during his college years. He never blacked out. Though he wasn’t spiritual then, he definitely credits “the universe” with making sure he got home safely even when he didn’t remember it.
His drug use started when he was 19. “Touchy, feely, energetic, spacey” was how it felt in the beginning. “Okay, so when did it stop being fun?” I asked.
Adderall. “It’s one of those drugs where you think, ‘I can do this,’ until you realize that you can’t stop. You think you’re okay, then you realize you’re not okay.” Further, Chris realized his drinking was problematic when he couldn’t manage to stop once he started. His tolerance was so high that people would give him non-stop drinks, but he wouldn’t get sick and he never threw up. He started coming home drunk, getting some sleep, waking up, and then going to class and later work like nothing happened. “I didn’t need to be watched while I drank, but come to think of it, I probably should’ve.” Smiled again.
What about heroin? As he said, “Culturally, as a black person, needles have always been looked down on.” But laughing, he continued, “For all the shit I put into my body, the needle standard was so arbitrary.” Sure, he snorted it and got high, but he got sick. “I felt like trash and it was one and done.” Many first-time heroin users tell a different story, of feeling an intense relief washing over them. For Chris, though, he vomited as if possessed by a demon, and he never touched heroin again.
Chris didn’t finish college but it wasn’t his drinking and drug use, he said. “I never did finish, but it’s because I never wanted to start either.” He didn’t want to go in the first place, but he was pressured to live up to societal norms and his family’s expectations. “I mean, it’s what you do. You graduate from high school. You go to college wherever you get accepted and can afford to go to. You work. Then you die. For a lot of people, they can live that linear life, but I couldn’t. I was always an adventurer, always an explorer. It’s a part of where the drugs came in. I was always curious about them, and I was bipolar. They helped.”
Chris was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 15. He found that psychiatric medications made him feel horrible, so he stopped taking the meds and like many others, self-medicated with drugs and alcohol. There wasn’t a drug that was off limits, except for heroin after that one use. His doctors warned him about his drug use, that the manic spikes would be dangerous and the depressive states even more intense given the path he was on, but that didn’t stop him. I understood the feeling. When I was told my liver enzymes were dangerously high and that I had alcoholic hepatitis, I should have stopped, but I didn’t.
For people with bipolar disorder, sobriety can be a delicate balancing game. The extremes lead to self-medicating with drugs and alcohol. The use of the drugs and alcohol create a physical dependency so when the bipolar person tries to break free from the physical addiction, their “medication” is gone. Their relief is gone. It’s merely a matter of time before a bipolar person gets triggered, falls apart, and goes back to drinking or using. According to American Addiction Centers, “The rate of co-occurring substance use disorders in individuals diagnosed with bipolar disorder ranges from about 20 percent to as high as nearly 60 percent.”
So he dropped all the substances and started going to Bible study. Even though he was trying to stay sober, he still didn’t feel whole. So when he started to drink, he started to feel the conflict between his need to drink for relief and the persona he created for himself at church. He couldn’t “feel through” himself, so he ended up heavily drinking and smoking again, and before long he was back to hard drugs.
So is Chris an alcoholic since he started to drink first and drugs came after? I know several people in the 12-step community who call themselves alcoholics even though they have had extensive drug use. Why? They say that once they drink, they can’t just stop there. Chris didn’t need a substance in any particular order in order to want the rest. Anything that was mind altering and brought relief was his substance of choice in that moment. His moods dictated what type of relief he was seeking, so for him the words “alcoholic” or “drug addict” are irrelevant. He could do three lines of coke and suddenly decide to drink or the other way around. It was the disease of “never enough.”
Remember, Chris doesn’t fit inside boxes.
For some people, the motivation to stop is a significant consequence, a terrifying moment, but for Chris, the desire to stop came from within. “I’m drinking all the time by myself. I could drink everyone under the table, do drugs all night, stay awake for four or five days. I’m tired of it. It’s not serving me, it’s not benefiting me, it’s just costing me a bunch of money, and what for? And that was literally it.”
Chris does face some challenges. Chris was known as a source for drugs. “I still have friends or distant family who will text me asking if I can help find them this drug or that drug. It was just who I was. It was an entire personality I had.”
For Chris, a 12-step program wouldn’t work. He’s too much of an individual and he likes to blaze his own path, but he’s not against 12-step programs for other people. “If that would work for you do it. You have to do what’s right for you.” So he has not necessarily abstained 100%, but his life today is drastically different than what it was before. He tells himself not to be so judgy or so hard on himself but to try his best for that day. He felt going cold turkey would be too difficult because it would make him fixate on wanting it more. He’s not counting days and he’s not putting pressure on himself to say that he’ll never drink or use drugs again. He’s had about two shots of alcohol since last fall, and for him it’s important to focus on the fact that it’s two shots compared to the three bottles he would have slammed in the past.
For Chris, it’s harder to deal with the people who are surprised he’s not drinking than it is to not drink. Recently, he faced a challenge when he went to a Super Bowl party and didn’t drink and didn’t use. What about “One is too many and a thousand is never enough”? For Chris he could have one, but he asks himself, “What am I thinking? How am I feeling? Why would I do it? I already know where it’s going to lead me and how I’m going to be feeling later. After one, it’s going to be two. After two it’s going to be three. At that point, I’m just drinking. It creates a circle. The more aware I become daily, the better I am at stopping those thoughts when they creep up.”
Every morning, Chris gets up and looks in the mirror first thing and says to his reflection, “I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t use.” He prays, he meditates, he exercises. And then it’s time to face the world.
