How do I know if I’m addicted to something?
If you can’t stop doing something, you’re addicted to it.

I can’t stop drinking water; am I a dihydrogen monoxide addict?
No. Being thirsty is your body’s way of telling you that you need water, and drinking water is a legitimate way to quench your thirst.

So how do I tell the difference between a legitimate need and an addiction?
Well, when people are addicted to things, consuming them becomes more important than having their life work. They’ll miss work and break the law to get the thing they’re addicted to.

After hurricane Katrina, people missed work to break into stores and steal bottled water.
Right, but again, water is a legitimate need. You’ll die without it.

So “you’ll die without it” is the test for whether something is addictive or not? You’ll die without food, but don’t people become addicted to eating? And what about sex? You won’t die without sex, but we don’t call you a sex addict until you’re David Duchovny.
You only need so much food; after a certain point, your bodies need for nourishment is filled and the benefit of eating more decreases. You won’t die without sex, but it’s an important part of the human experience, and there are consequences to living without it as far as your quality of life is concerned.

Sure! I like sex; I’d like to have sex all the time. How do I know where to draw the line between my legitimate need for sex and addiction?
Well, there’s the point of diminishing returns mentioned earlier. Also, when an action is performed out of addiction, it actually tries to serve some other, unrelated need that it can’t fill–booze, for example, can’t keep you company, but sometimes people drink because they’re lonely.

Lastly, there’s the issue of dependency and withdrawal, which only applies to some chemical addictions, like nicotine or heroin. Once the body is used to the chemical, it can’t function normally without it; removing the substance creates unpleasant withdrawal symptoms.

you’ve all fallen silent… Have you lost interest? Have I left you speechless? Or have the kung-fu creatures on the rampage gotten you?

re: my… malaise.

While I was in Denver a few weeks ago and pretty much everything went the way I didn’t want it to go, a friend and coach suggested to me that I look at what, in my life, I was still not dealing with or letting go unmanaged. When she asked me, the answer was right there for me:

I can’t have what I want.

So then she asked me what I want, and I realized I didn’t know. Asking someone what they want is a pretty open-ended question and while I am pretty clear on what I don’t want, I haven’t spent a lot of time figuring out what I do want.

Over the last couple of days, I’ve been thinking about what it is that I really want, and why it is that I so deeply believe that I can’t have it. And then, some time on Thursday, the conversation shifted:

I already have what I want.

The more I think about it, the more I see that this is a more accurate statement. I really, truly do not know what I could ask for other than what I already have.

What I realized is that my previous core belief assumed that I want solutions to all my problems, and that’s not so. Without problems I’d be miserable. I’d be bored to tears. I’d have nothing to do. I have constituted myself as someone who solves problems and there’s nothing that makes me happier or feel more fulfilled than having a big set of difficult problems to sink my teeth into. The best moments of my life have been when I have worked and worked and worked and finally solved something. These moments were brief, and followed immediately by thoughts of how I will do it better next time–not like there’s something wrong with the solution I came up with, but excitement that there’s still a level of performance and improvement I can reach for.

I have reached a point in my life where the problems I have chosen (and am choosing) for myself to deal with are really hard problems. Some seem hopeless. None of them are problems I can solve on my own. I’ve complained ad nauseum about them, but I realize now I wouldn’t trade them for anything. They are my problems. Some people have kids and some people have students and some people have pets and I have problems.

See here.

I need to blog about addiction. I don’t have all my thoughts in order yet. This just increases my sense of urgency about the whole thing…

When I was three years old, my dad worked at Safeway, and one day was involved in an altercation (over beer) with a would-be shoplifter. This would-be shoplifter basically destroyed one of my dad’s knees.

When he got home from the hospital, my dad was stuck in bed basically all the time. I went in with my mom to visit with him and made some request–I have no idea what the request was–and the answer was no. So I did what any three-year-old does: I threw a tantrum. I threw my head back and hit my dad. In the knee. The same knee.

My mom removed me from the room (which probably saved my life) and twenty years later, my dad finally got that knee completely replaced.

The reason I bring up this whole dreary tale is that this was one of my most important formative moments. This is where I started asking people, “why aren’t you helping me?” and telling them “go away–leave me alone!” The moment after I hit my dad in the knee, I knew I’d screwed up, and as much as I resisted the notion, I knew that I couldn’t take it back.

We’ve all had moments like this. Dropping something and watching it break, or getting into a car accident, or saying something stupid. As soon as it’s done you know it’s a mistake and as much as you want to–and you really, really want to–you can’t hit ctrl-z and take it back. The bell has been rung. The toothpaste is out of the tube.

So I realized a couple of weeks ago that this event in my life had another consequence that had gone unnoticed. I have been, and continue to be, someone who is driven to solve problems, to fix things, and to improve everything. It’s even become a joke with some of my friends: they’ll show me something cool, and take bets on how long it takes for me to start talking about how I’d build a better one.

The funny part is that as soon as I realized how driven I am to solve problems and fix things, I started relating to my problem-solving and thing-fixing drive as a problem to solve and a thing to fix. And I’m still doing it.

So I’ve got a problem, which is that I screwed up and can’t fix it. So I’m driven to solve problems and fix things. And when I see that I’m driven, I try to solve and fix being driven. And then I see that I’m trying to solve and fix my attempt to solve and fix being a problem-solver and thing-fixer.

*deep breath*

I’m giving up fixing and solving and improving right now, just for right now. Nothing is wrong here and everything is just the way it is and I am OK.

*exhale*

That worked. Thank you.