Much has been written, and will continue to be
written, about the tragic death of Philip Seymour Hoffman. Everyone has
an opinion, and everyone's opinion is right. I didn't know him, so I
can't speak to his specific issues. But as someone with addictions I can
speak of the empty spaces and loneliness that comes from losing one's numbing
mechanism. For me it is alcohol, but there are as many escape devices as
there are addicts. Living life on life's terms is not for the faint of
heart.
Last week I had one of those days. I wasn't
sick, my kids were agreeable, I didn't fight with Timo, and my parents were
more self-sufficient than they have been in months. Yet I couldn't shake
this gloom that had settled over me. I went to my favorite AA meeting, thinking
that surrounding myself with supportive women would do the trick. It
didn't. I left ten minutes early because I could no longer stand to sit
in my skin. I literally wanted to feel nothing. And I couldn't turn
to alcohol or drugs. So I sat with it.
What?? Sat with emptiness, sadness, despair and
longing? Who does that in this age of instant gratification? And
why???
The dark, empty spaces ARE the journey. No, I
don't mean to sound like a Radiohead song. Maybe more like Pink
Floyd. I never attain more insight than when I am quiet and sad.
Why do you think there are so many unrequited love songs? Life can really
suck. But learning to stay with the dark spaces without chemically
imbibing is a gift. Art happens here. Gratitude happens here.
This too shall pass, and all that.
Breathe. And move on.
