
The other day, Peggy, over at
Helplessly Hoping shared about a friend that has cancer and is writing a book on "how to be a friend to a friend who's sick". (if you have not read her post I highly recommend it). Peggy is asking readers to suggest ways people can be supportive to friends and family of addicts.
It got me to thinking - how do people react to the addict themselves? How do you be a friend to someone that's using or in in recovery?
I think with most diseases, the ill person receives a lot of support, encouragement, understanding, even pity. With addiction the opposite seems to be true. Addicts are often looked down upon, judged, avoided.
Don't most of us (including our government) agree that addiction is a disease? If someone starts using a drug (including alcohol) and uses/drinks to the point that their health and/or life is at risk, then that person is considered to have the disease of addiction, right?
But still, the stigma persists. Nowadays, I feel defensive more than ashamed when discussing my son's addiction. I want people to understand its not a choice. Yes, it was a choice to use the drug in the first place (how many of us haven't made very poor choices in our lives?) but becoming an addict was not the desired outcome of that choice.
Here is a definition I just found while cruising around the Web:
Back to the disease concept. Addiction is classified as a disease because it meets the criteria of all other terminal diseases:
- It has pattern of symptoms which are similar across all types of substance abuse
- It is a chronic condition. It doesn't go away.
- It is progressive. Addiction only gets worse with continued use, and ends with death.
- The person is subject to relapse. In Australia, 66% of addicts who are lucky to live long enough to make it to detox will eventually die as a direct result of the disease.
- It is treatable. Here's the good news, while substance addiction is a terminal illness, its progression can be arrested at almost any stage. But if you are seeking treatment, it is of the utmost importance that you gain medical advice. Sudden withdrawal, even from "socially acceptable" drugs such as alcohol, can cause death through seizures and coma.
I hid Keven's addiction from a few family members for months and then just spit it out one day at a family gathering. I don't know what certain family and friends think of it, I imagine some people are judging my son for being so "weak" and me for "raising an addict". Those reactions no longer anger me In a convoluted sort of way its actually good that some people think that - it means they have no personal experience of it and therefore have not had to endure the heartache many of us know intimately.
But I do hope that things change, that people would understand that no one would choose this as their life. It chooses them. Just like cancer or diabetes or heart disease. There are things we can do to prevent those diseases, but that is no guarantee against them, some people will get cancer no matter how well they care for their health.
I'll end with something else I read on the same site quoted above:
When world governments begin to understand that the cost in providing this care (detox and recovery) free of charge is far outweighed by the benefits to society, we will begin to see an incredible drop in poverty, violence and divorce. The cost in providing this care will also be offset by the decrease in need of other hospitalization. 1 in 3 hospital beds in Australia are taken up by people with conditions that can be directly linked to drug abuse. At best, the world health systems overall are only currently providing band-aid solutions to one of the greatest scourges of mankind.
You can check out what he wrote in full
here (he's in Australia and wrote this a few years ago but it still applies today...unfortunately).
P.S. My friends and family, especially blog friends, have been very supportive and non-judgmental, the occasional ignorant and/or insensitive questions is asked, I try not to punch the person in the nose when that happens.
Peace, Hope and Love,
Barbara