6 things to do in lieu of picking up…
When the compulsion clouds roll in, everything else fades away.
Before you know it, you’re in the eye of its tornado. Even if you’re not using (yet), the whirling, howling walls are all around you – blocking out logic and everything you’ve been working toward. Your goals. Your loved ones. All the good stuff that’s come with getting clean and exorcising that monstrous thing you let take up residency in your essence for however long you opted to press pause on life, not realizing it was actually a fast forward button into hell. So what do we do when this happens? Sure you could give in and become one with the funnel’s edges, but one good implied piece of advice I once heard about “thinking that thought through” might show you how that doesn’t work out well for anyone in recovery. But sometimes even thinking of our “future self” isn’t enough. We need clear direction right now. What can I do? What else can I do to avoid these attack thoughts? So, mayhaps we can review some alternatives in lieu of picking up. And where can we start?
By picking up… the phone:
1. Call a friend who “gets it”.
“No worries, honey… we all are here. Wanna know what I did last time I was in your sitch…?”
This would be where the whole “go to meetings and connect with people” comes in handy. It’s tough to put yourself out there, but that in itself – meeting and interacting with new people about something personal – is a thoroughgoing first step itself in rattling the core of those cravings. But why a stranger? Well, they won’t be strangers if you keep showing up and striking up experience, strength, and hope convos with ‘em. And why not your “I’ve never touched pot in my life – except that time I was drugged with hash brownies” mom? Well, sometimes that’s good as a short term solution. (Like if you’ve not yet met like minded people who can empathize.) But not necessarily for a long term go-to. ‘cause if she’s half as insightful as mine is, even she will admit that when SHTF, she can’t truly help because she’s never been there. She knows it’s awful, but doesn’t know on a personal level enough to offer the kinda advice those who have can. And if she’s half as awesome as mine, she’ll tell you she’s happy to listen – but ask you to call up one of your friends from whatever program you’ve chosen to help you out. Because maybe, just maybe, they’ve been in this exact scenario before and can throw you the same rope they used to exit it.
Got neither a fam or fellowship?
Dial the hotline – or try a chatroom (yes, they have those!)
2. Just do nada.
It’s like Nike – but with a finger to the lips “Shoosh” instead of “Swoosh”.
There are a ton of different types of meditation. But when you’re really going through the crankiness a hankering brings, sometimes the best thing to do is the simplest form there is: cease activity, shut your eyes, and focus only on your breath. It’s almost like the anxiety in your body gets self-conscious about you pointing it out with your awareness and then tries to subsequently jump ship.
But unlike Phoebe here, it does so sorta serenely – allowing your respiration and heart rate to normalize anew.
3. Music and cardio
This is gonna sound a bit out there, but I’m tossing it in the mix anyway because it worked for me. During my first three hours of being off opiates and valium, I was in a furious sweat and muttering to myself like Rainman. I didn’t like the idea that I was making noises to no one and sweating for no reason. And since I couldn’t find a way to stop doing these things, I decided to find a function to all the noise making and sweating. Now, had I not titled this point, you might be thinking the obvious right about now. But the thing about withdrawal is that sex seems like the opposite of a good idea (for me at least, it did).
More like, “Try to put anything in me and I’ll reciprocate – with this knife!”
(That said, if it works for you – I’m all for it.
In fact, we’ll add it here as option #3 article A.)
So, instead, I hopped on the elliptical, blared Deftones into my ears, and emitted sounds (not unlike a feline being defiled with with a barbed phallus) along with Chino for a long time while sweating out the bad juju (is that how you spell it?). When a few hours had passed, I was disgustingly dirty – but still clean. I was also a bit proud. So was the kindly British comedian who’d selflessly helped me get here even though he has a revolution to worry about.
4. Art (making it or enjoying it) of any kind
Draw. Read. Sit down at the dusty piano. Sing out loud.
Sculpt a mashed-terpiece like Richard Dreyfus did in that one movie with the aliens.
Write. In fact, leave me an eloquent comment about how terrible my advice is.
5. Make some tea
When I was first getting clean, I treated the Yogi tea aisle of Wegman’s like my own personal, self prescribed herbal pharmacy. From Kava to Soothing Caramel Bedtime Tea, it was an ideal shoe-in for the thing I was still missing. Maybe it didn’t do much. But just knowing I had some sort of substitute that didn’t include relapse made me feel like I was satisfying that craving on some level.
See? If it’s a genius’s solution, then it must be right. #SitcomWisdom.
Which takes us to the last one:
6. Mindless, entertaining distractions
Watch something dumb and funny – Normally I wouldn’t champion indulging the free ignorance that is your T.V. set. But we’re not talking about a long term cure for addiction. We’re addressing those inevitable, occasional “I need a substance to suffocate this stress immediately” moments. The thing about laughing is that it – much like your former drugs or even stimuli that remind you of them (from mere thoughts to paraphernalia) – it also produces dopamine. The thing about dopamine is that it focuses your attention on whatever’s causing it. Not a bad deal when it comes organically – ’cause even if that’s paired with a drool inducing 20 minute bout of one liners, it’s still better than picking up. And while it won’t quench the intrinsic demon’s demands forever – it definitely clicks down his volume knob enough right now for your reality based side to maybe be heard once again.
Whether or not you choose to listen to it is up to you.
Best of luck, friend.