Imagine that you're addicted to something - I mean REALLY addicted, not just a fly-by-night, "OMG, I'm SO addicted to that new T.V. show" kind of thing. Now imagine that someone told you it was possible to cure yourself of this addiction (I know, I'm starting to sound like a tele-evangelist, but stay with me here - I promise not to ask for money or first-born children). What if you believed this person right from the start? What if it wasn't an imminent truth that you would be addicted to this one thing FOREVER? What if it seemed obvious that you could get rid of the monkey on your back and send him off to a third-world jungle thousands of miles away where he would never again see civilization?
This scenario is exactly the kind of thing I think about when I hear people say, "Once an addict, always an addict." I can't tell you how much it pains me to hear someone say, "Yep, I'm an alcoholic and I'll always be an alcoholic, but at least I can stop drinking." It seems so important that we pathologize addictive behaviors, that we create a complete co-dependency between The Addict and The Great and Powerful Healer, that we beat into the head of this addict the fact that there really is no way to get rid of this thing, this internal drive to over-consume whatever it is that's being over-consumed.
But if you started the conversation out differently, then wouldn't you think more hopefully about the situation? If you (The Addict) were never told that you now had this new title that would follow you throughout your life, wouldn't you be more inclined to believe that whatever problem has beset you is temporary? Wouldn't you believe in yourself more?
Just a thought...
On another (semi-related) note, I'm continually shocked and irritated by people who are addicted to themselves. There are a whole lot of people who seem to think only of their own well-being and I wonder how that happens. Childhood traumas? Other addictions? A refusal to grow up and mature? I'm not sure, but it's sad, the degree to which narcissism has taken over our lives. Especially when people are narcissistic to the detriment of the people to whom they should be the closest.
Perhaps there's redemption even for these folks, though. Maybe at some point they will have that wonderful moment of clarity when the light bulb turns on and everything is illuminated (to borrow the words of a certain awesome writer). I suspect that if that moment comes, though, it will be intensely painful for the person who looks back at his life and realizes just how much hurt he has caused to those people who loved and trusted him the most.
I think this new kind of reality works on the same principle as Plato's cave theory - once the prisoner realizes he is imprisoned by his own inability to see beyond the inside of the cave, once he sees that he's not actually a prisoner but can walk towards the doorway to the outside world, he'll be blinded by the light of that release. And (to borrow the words of another famous icon) I pity the fool who waits until old age to find these things out, because the longer it takes to get to the doorway, the more it will hurt to walk outside.
t.
