fixation

Addicted to licking pussy…cats. (No, seriously. Actual cats.)

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Scrolling through my soshe media feed,I encountered this gem today:

As you can see (or maybe not, in which case I’ll explain it to you now), this fascinating gadget for lonely folk is meant to connect you better with your cat. How? Via pseudo-grooming, obviously. (Although, admittedly, all I can think of are too-easy comical cunnilingus quips.) You pop that rubber scrubber in like a pacifier, have at your cat, and suddenly he loves you because it’s the feline equivalent of simian nit-picking. Yet, however weird I thought that was, social media never disappoints me by delivering the even weirder. And it came, of course, in the form of a “My Strange Addiction” snippet. A woman not pseudo-grooming her cat, but actually snacking on the follicular remnants of him. And even tonguing the creature’s ears. And sucking them.


“It’s so soft and puffy – like cotton candy, almost…”

Now, right around here, you might be asking yourself… why the eff anyone would get their kicks off something like this? And, trust me, my tendency was to inquire exactly that myself. It seems insane. But you know what else is insane? Losing your job cuzza your coke habit… and doing a line the second you get home to feel better about it. Knowing the pills you’re abusing are making you worse, yet insufflating another crushed one to forget that fact. Downing poison first thing in the morning, and convincing yourself your liver and litany of other afflictions are caused by some esoteric mystery illness you saw on Discovery Health – instead’ve the obvious. Or eff the illegal stuff. Let’s get real. How about another, accepted chemical that gets you high? Food? How about eating the same processed crap and sugary drinks you always have, and expecting to suddenly de-obese your body by some external sorcery source that asks no effort of you?

We’ve all got the insanity in some way. No matter how we try to size it up.

This isn’t the sickness equivalent of a d*ck measuring competish.



Nay, sir.

As amusing as all of those oddities might be to outsiders, don’t fool yourself.

’cause we’re not that far outside that level of craziness. I can’t tell you how far into insanity fellow addicts have admitted to going – just to procure fix number next. Garbage bin dining. Snorting stuff from dirty floorboards. Peeing in their own beds to avoid stifling their high by moving to the loo. In that way, this is indeed a reminder of how painfully alike we reforming fiends from all walks of weirdness are. And the fact of the matter’s that running your tongue down your Tabby isn’t all that different from some of our other collective fixes. Some’ve us crave crack. Some’ve us crave cake. Some’ve us crave eight balls. Some crave f[o]ur balls. And, ya know, I’d say “Well, at least an obsession like hers isn’t chemically addictive,” – which is technically true. But, in actuality, it’s still detrimental inasmuch as you’re feeding that whole dopamine reward system in your brain. And that’s opposite of optimal because feeding that means it’s suddenly something you require to survive with your sanity intact. You need it to not go mental or get depressed. You need it before you can do anything productive, interact rationally with others, or focus on anything else. And even then, your attention’s soon on acquiring that high anew. That’s an addiction. It’s a reliance on a finite external that’s not naturally required for survival. And, chemical or not, anything like that can and will destroy your life if left unchecked. So, the comparisons aren’t entirely helpful. Also, an attempted measure of one obsession versus another doesn’t ever make anyone’s respective fixation any better, does it? Sure, you can compare all day long. But on a self improvement level, that won’t make a “lick” of difference. Thus, before we all start judging, I encourage my fellow addicts of all kinds to see the similarities here – and let it resonate as just one’ve many reminders about the kinda life we don’t wanna return to.

That said, I will admit… the “LickiBrush” suddenly seems a lot less odd now.

Sweet, even.

So long as it’s, ya know, not a gateway drug… to lapping up cat hair.

Why do you keep hitting yourself? Huh? Huh? HUH?

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I talk a lot about spirituality in recovery on here.

But, if I’m being honest, blind faith wouldn’t have been enough to keep me clean in early recovery. Don’t get me wrong. I love the step programs. It’s just that, as someone with a bio degree, I can’t help but ask why about everything. And I had a helluva lotta “why’s” coming into the rooms. Ones about why the program worked (which some TED talks shone a more scientific light on). Ones about how imitating a potato for twenty minutes (meditation) can possibly help. (Which documentaries explained – showing how a practice can physically alter the brain to help heal addictions.) But the biggest one no one seemed able to answer was…why am I here?

Why do I have this issue of fixation – and most I know don’t?

And that was the biggest thing nobody seemed to talk about. I don’t mean the “what happened to you when you were little” stuff, either. Clearly, certain events can set the eight ball in motion early on. No. What I wanted to know was what – at the chemical level – was going on in my brain to make things like exercise anorexia, obsession with schmexy time, and dragging a blade across my bare flesh seem like totally acceptable answers? I needed something I could relate to.

Little did I know that a lotta this stuff actually comes from the same place.

In the past, I’ve referred to this as an intrinsic void we all wanna fill – illicitly or not. And, yeah, that’s true. After I kicked the scripts from my life, all the aforementioned harmful desires were still there. But this abstract concept of a common darkness was entirely unsatisfying. Biologically, how does that look? Well, according to a recent article I just read – it comes from the fact that it feels good.

So, what – does that just make us pleasure seeking heathens who can’t moderate?

Not necessarily. See, that feel-goodery has a name. Some call them endorphins. Others call them endogenous opioids. (But the former’s shorter and easier so we’ll go with that.) And we tend to get them after running, bumping uglies, or (more of an eyebrow raiser, but, yes – it’s true) self harming. Why? ’cause it’s nature’s way of rewarding us on an evolutionary level. Running’s tantamount to predatory escape. To stay ahead of that forest dwelling monster, your body supplies you with pain effacing chemicals. That way, you can live on and reproduce…which brings us to the next one. Sex. Now, this one’s probably obvious, but we’ll cover it anyway. Sex gives you a full body buzz because it’s a prize for propagating more people from your gene pool. Then, finally, the one that may seem opposite of sex is self harm. (Seeing as sex brings about life and self harm is more of a foreplay for ending it.) In a way, if you’re indulging in the former two things – sex and exercise obsessions – you probably already have noticed this pop up to a degree. Too much monkey business or treadmilling may be making for muscle pulls and bruises. But even if you’re just self puncturing for funsies, yes, there’s an evolutionary purpose. See, when we’re hurt, our bods release endorphins, too. On an evolutionary level, it’s a way to avoid getting too pain-crippled to get to safety, lick our wounds, recover, and carry on living.


(Though running with your arms out, Snow White style, pro’lly just wastes energy.)

Okay.

But why do some of us do the stuff to excess and others not so much?

Because some of us have less of these wellness chemicals to start with. “Normal” folk have a normal amount, and for whatever reason (genetics, environment, who cares), others of us don’t. So we find something we love – like jogging – and do it ’til our kicks have got nada but bloody stumps and shredded tendons left in them. As addicts, we probably just stick to one or two of those things and obsess over them.

My advice?

Next time you notice you’ve started a genital bender, solo marathon, or auto-somatic slicing, just pause for a moment. Put everything down. Your partner’s butt. Your butterfly knife. Your Nikes. And, instead of judging yourself, remember your evolutionary tendency has helped lead you here. Whether you’re running, running trains, or running a blade down your wrist – endorphins’re meant to help you endure. You make a li’l less of the stuff, so your body’s chemically hijacked you outta desperation for relief. The only problem is that this twisted solution’s causing more problems. So it’s time to deplane the pain Boeing and try another way.

And that’s the first step. You recognize that while it’s not normal in comparison to the rest of the population, it’s normal for someone – like you – who doesn’t make enough of the stuff in their body pharmacy.

Step two? Find some other someones suffering through the same thing. Because the indulgence/desire cycle can make you feel pretty effing isolated, stepping into a step meeting or something similar can help you feel less like a vice seeking pariah.

Step three? Set a plan to alter your habits that’re making you unhappy. Maybe we can’t help that we’re starting out at a less-than-stellar endorphin level. But we can raise them without having to self harm in the process. There are tons’ve endorphin boosting activities out there. Sure, running and sex are a couple. But others include playing with your pup, watching a comedy, cleaning house, getting a massage, meditating, sharing coffee with a friend, trying something new… the list is longer than Kerouac’s scroll draft of “The Road”. (There’s another good mood booster: reading.) By mixing up which ones you do when – and putting a time limit on them – you can make sure you’re getting your au natch highs without the inconvenience of going all Charlie Sheen in the process, preventing you from leading a normal life.

And that’s the idea. Because step four is to use your opioids proactively – with the aim of them serving as a sturdy foundation for your work in the world. You wake up, exercise, meditate, do whatever activity makes you feel good both while and after it’s happening, and then there’ll be a bit more zest in your trek to work. This is literally the only way I survive life. I’ve got my routine every day. Run. Yoga. Meditate. Starbucks (Okay, maybe that one’s not natural.) Minus a baseline A.M. self-made high, my day’s task tower collapses in flames before noon. But by moderating enough morning wellness beforehand, I’m golden til it’s GTFO’ clock.

So, sure, fuel up on your internal pharmacy.

But only get high enough on your own supply that your return to reality’s palatable.

That way, you’ll still have the good shiz left in stock for tomorrow.

Love addiction… or just obsession? 5 remedies for whatever you wanna call it.

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The term “love addiction”, though quaint, always seemed more like some paradoxical euphemism to me.

A euphemism for obsession.


(Speaking of which, I was obsessed with these mannequin chicks first time I saw this vid)

Granted, it could also be a euphemism for sex addiction. But most times I’ve heard the term – it’s been in the context of that one friend you have whose iphone photo album is namely a shrine of her ex’s selfies. We’ve probably all been to a place before where the starring role of our desire cancels out all the supporting players in our life movie for at least a short while. But when that thought becomes a habit that translates into a perpetual reality, something else happens. And the problem with the term “love obsession” is this: While love is meant to be this unconditional acceptance, compassion, or intense affection, an addiction is something completely different. Something that depletes you on some level. So, then, what do we call this affliction? This flip from the puppy dog state of a South Park Stan puking on Wendy to broiling the family rabbit in the stove pot over unrequited love? (Let’s hope nunna us are quite there, yet?) Or how about even when we just fall for people too easily? While it may indeed be an addiction, I think it’s safe to say the “object” at the center of that addiction isn’t even love. If it’s a drug, you use it. If it’s a person, you’ve objectified them – intentionally or not – and have also been using them. Hence, the paradox.

And that’s because addiction – if it’s a disease versus dependency – isn’t about the person, place, or thing you’re presently fixated on. It’s about avoiding the void you feel inside – which makes it even more confusing when it comes to romantic or intimate interactions. Much like an alcohol addiction is more acceptable than a narcotic addiction, most don’t think twice about love as even being comparable to either. It’s not seen as a grave issue until it manifests as rapid fire text messages, an overbearing amount of contact in general, or unwanted visits. That’s only when it becomes active, though. Most times, it just sticks as a thought no one can see – and eating only you alive, unbeknownst to anyone – even the object-person. That’s why – as the obsessed person – it’s easy to delude ourselves that it’s “okay” and we’re “okay”. (That, is, until someone walks over to you and kindly asks you to move out of the road because, no, she will not willfully run over you with her car as your Woe Is Me ipod playlist lulls you to permanent sleep). And until you go all Marky Mark a la Fear on your “love” object, the law’s not likely to get involved like they would if you were making a smack transaction in the parking lot. That’s because the majority of these addictions happen in the privacy of your brain. So this one’s tricky. Maybe it’s not genuinely “love addiction”, but the spiritual deficit we’re trying to fill with others is indeed often a love shaped void. So it can be easy to assume that inviting someone into our lives is the answer.

Simple, right?

The problem with that is that, until the void is filled by our own doing, we’ll inevitably end up using the other party – which means at their expense somehow – to make ourselves feel alright. Comforted. Safe. Validated. I’m no stranger to this, as I’ve undergone it on every level – whether or not the object of my rumination knew it. Be it a best friend, monogamous lover, colleague, or celebrity I’ve met – no one’s free from the clutches of my self-flagellating thought processes. (“Do I even matter if they don’t approve of me and my life?”) Like any addict recovering from anything, I’m still not free from these internal tendencies. I have to manage it by shining a light on my own proclivities… before I start shining that interrogation lamp on the innocent party.

But the nice thing about stepping away from active addiction (aside from the sudden relief of departing thoroughgoing debt ranging from mind to actual money) is that you’re granted an awareness about it. Once you understand how preposterous the thoughts are that snowball into obsession, they’re a little easier to rise above. So, following this loquacious intro, I’ll offer you a handful of “Oh, yeah” brain tools I still use to till my sanity fields from day to day. For convenience sake, I’ve boiled my top go-to’s down to an alliterative device of 5 main pointers. A few of them are my own spins on this one stellar Psychology Today piece I encountered some time ago. Some come from mid-jog epiphanies. And others yet were bestowed upon me when I was doing a bit of number 3. Let’s begin with one of my faves:

1. Realize your thoughts are not facts

What are you really thinking of with respect to the person? And why is it making you unhappy? If it’s an addiction/obsession line of thinking, then that means you’re not doing so well. So that means the thoughts you’re having aren’t so great ATM. So, what is it? She didn’t call you back? He didn’t reply to your text? And then what? This means she doesn’t like you. This means he’s with someone else. And then? You’re not good enough for them. She’s probably sleeping with your best friend. The slut. Now you’re angry. You must not be good enough for anybody. This stock sample example isn’t a far cry from the cerebral snowballs that do donuts in my head sans my permission from time to time – and not just when it comes to romantic dynamics. But once you realize that this is nothing more than a thought – not actual truth – you can grant yourself permission to launch a beam of awareness sunshine on that ball of ice freezing your brain down, and grow up a garden of contentment about life in general. How? Remind yourself: these thoughts may very well be wrong. So why are you letting potential lies drain your mental energy?

2. Remember: when you are fixated on a person, there are actually two people.

One is the actual flesh and blood person.

The other is the idea of the person you’ve been building in your brain. A story you’ve concocted about them, not realizing it’s not real. Is the girl you’re thinking of flawless whenever you see her? Does she smile a lot? Look fit? Have goals? Would you still pedestalize her if you knew she went home, cried, ate her feelings, threw them up, and then fell asleep with said throw up in her hair? What if what you think you know is all an act for the world? Or – what if the guy on your mind with the perfect physique actually has webbed feet and uses them to punt puppies off bridges to blow off steam? But let’s not be superficial here. What about who they are inside that you couldn’t see even if you broke into their home with an invisibility cloak and took diligent notes, Harry Potter meets Lifetime Original Movie style? If your obsession comes from an unrequited feeling, they could be suffering a painful past, money troubles, or work woes that make a connection difficult. On the other hand, they could just be too driven toward their goals to make you a priority. Or, tough as it may be to accept, maybe you’re just not their type. There’re plenty of reasons that the IRL person isn’t fulfilling the role of the one you’ve created in your head and thus failing to fulfill your desire. The bad news? You may never know which they are. The good news? None of them make you worth any less – unless you keep hanging onto a desire you know won’t be satisfied and letting your fixation on their life suck the bliss outta yours.

3. Recharge

A running mind builds momentum. And it’s hard as hell on Viagra to halt it.

But when you let yourself, you give yourself the gift of lucidity (however brief it may last – which is why you gotta keep returning to a meditation practice, they say). There are few psychogenic problems out there where I won’t list meditation as at least one way to mitigate them. And obsession is no exception. One easy way? Close your eyes. Deepen your breathing without forcing it. Focus on only your breathing. And as each thought comes, just return to that breath instead of entertaining the thought.

4. Rise above

This one’s kinda tough to do with out at least some form of number 3 (meditation). But there’s something about deep breathing and calming your parasympathetic nervous system that allows you to see things in the light of awareness (and “get” how true facts like number 2 are). I can’t be sure what it is, but I think it has to do with the fact that when we’re distraught or angry, we cannot think clearly or arrive at creative solutions (or be creative at all – which explains why some days my writing entries tally a whopping zero). If we force-calm ourselves by shutting down the stimuli around us and self-soothing, though (I go for a “meditative” run sometimes), the cognitive clutter dissipates enough to allow for that outside-the-box perspective to present itself.

5. Redirect focus

We’ll finish with this one because it ties with number 1 as a fave.

If they’re not as into you as you are into them, then that means their focus is elsewhere. Put in a tougher love tone: they’re not thinking of you, but any number of other things that are more interesting to them. (Ouch. I know. Sorry ’bout it.) So… could you do the same with respect to them? Focus on a task at hand and give your full attention to it? Hard as it is to execute (because you want what you want), I find this to be a great temporary fix. In fact, I once heard this piece of advice: if you want to get over someone, do what they’re doing. I was skeptical at first, but it kinda makes sense for getting over anyone you still thought-harp on. While that doesn’t literally mean to abandon your job as a nurse, hit the OR, and randomly try your hand at open heart surgery like your ex does everyday, it could mean something more general – like the things that attracted you to him or her in the first place. Do you like them because they have passions? Get some of your own (and indulge them). Do you like them because they’re goal oriented? Make some goals of your own (and work toward them). Do you like them because they can cook a mean ass vegan dinner (still haven’t found this guy, but bear with me for the sake of examples)? Maybe take a culinary class (and have a fire extinguisher ready and 911 pre-keyed into your phone if you’re anything like me). This is where it goes from merely distracting yourself from your feelings to actually growing from the experience. The thing I like about this idea is that it helps you work toward that thing I mentioned above: filling your own void. If one of the things you like about someone else is how they are and what they do, could you emulate that in a way that fits you? And then like (maybe even love) yourself just as much? Use what you’ve learned from them as a way to feel alright in your own skin? Before you go full crazy and turn someone else’s into a Buffalo Bill style blanket?

Hope this helps, my fellow loons!

Signing out (in the blood of my ex lover’s bunny, obviously).