Tanning Linked to Cancer

Statistics from the Journal of American Dermatology show that 30 million Americans tan indoors every year, with one million visiting the tanning salon every day. Of those millions, 71 percent are women aged 16-29. Since UV exposure for those under the age of 30 increases the risk of cancer by 75 percent, beefed up monitoring of tanning bed abuse seems the best path toward cancer prevention, particularly for young women.

Dermatologists report that UV damage is cumulative, meaning that repeated exposure builds up over time and with enough of it, melanoma is a certainty. So it is surprising that current FDA regulations treat tanning beds the same way they control Class I medical devices like bandages and tongue depressors. Because of the inherent danger, lack of stronger regulatory control has recently come into question.

Tanning Salons Encouraging Abuse

ABC news recently reported on a University of San Diego study that sought to discover how well tanning salons were adhering to present FDA regulations. According to current recommendations, no one should spend time in a tanning bed more often than three times in the first week.

The UC San Diego researchers phoned numerous salons posing as 15-year-old girls wanting to make their first visits to a tanning bed. They discovered that 89 percent of the salons called were willing to allow 15-year-olds to make six to seven visits in the first week of tanning – more than twice the FDA recommended limit. Beyond permissiveness, by selling unlimited tanning bed visits at a discounted rate, tanning salons seem to be encouraging overuse.

Addicted to Tanning?

Tanning salons seem hesitant to enforce current guidelines, but there is also increasing evidence that the tanners themselves have become part of the problem. Displaying behavior patterns similar to people with addictions, some tanners not only ignore the FDA warnings about UV dangers, they continue to tan even after being diagnosed with melanoma.

The University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center performed a controlled study to try and determine the legitimacy of claims that tanners experience symptoms similar to people suffering from alcohol or drug addiction. For their study, the researchers recruited people who tanned frequently (27 of the previous 90 days) and asked them to participate in two 10-minute tanning sessions. The tanners also received a dye that would allow examiners to monitor brain activity during their tanning sessions.

During one session the tanner received UV light and during another session UV light was blocked. The person tanning did not know which session provided UV light and which did not. During the session in which UV was allowed, researchers noted increased blood flow to the area of the brain associated with reward – the area of the brain strongly connected with addiction. When UV rays were blocked, the same areas showed diminished blood flow. The study revealed a definite link between UV exposure and brain stimulation similar to that demonstrated by addicts.

The World Health Organization classifies tanning beds alongside the sun as a clear cancer risk. Research has shown that teenagers are susceptible to both addiction and UV-caused cancer. Adults may decide to ignore warnings and continue to tan. However, the full support of the American Academy of Pediatrics is behind new FDA-proposed legislation banning indoor tanning for anyone under the age of 18.

The floaty voice of the designer-clad woman urged me to “let my worries go—empty your mind and then focus on what you want to ask the cards.” Gingerly, I took the tarot pack she handed to me.

Sitting opposite me was one of Britain’s leading psychics. Everyone I worked with in TV said her predictions were 100 percent accurate. That was enough for me: I was hooked.
“Think, Sam,” I told myself. “Think what you really want to know.” I handed the pack back to the psychic, Angelica, and prepared to listen to her prophecies: my future was in her hands. She stared at the first card, then let out a shriek of surprise.

“My goodness!” she declared. “You’re going to live and work in Los Angeles.”

My initial reaction was skepticism. I had no plans to move. Neither had I even thought about applying for a new job. I was happy and successful in Britain. The prediction seemed preposterous. But Angelica was insistent.

“I promise you, you’ll be in LA in six weeks.” “Mmm,” I said. “Anything else?” Slowly, Angelica turned over another card. Her next “revelation” was earth-shattering. What’s more, it would change the course of my life.

Angelica informed me that my marriage was as good as over. She stared at me unflinchingly and said I had to leave Damian, my husband of a year.

The shock was profound, but I dismissed it. After all, I reasoned, divorcing my husband was about as likely as getting a job in the U.S.

But then something extraordinary happened. Within a week, I was offered the position of running the LA office for the TV company I worked for.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime contract: generous salary, seaside house, the car of my dreams.

Angelica’s prediction about the job had been uncannily accurate. I found myself thinking: could she be right about my marriage, too?

I had to admit there were flaws in our relationship. Damian, who worked as a comedy promoter, and I were at odds over having a baby.

At 33, I felt my biological clock was ticking. He was a year younger and said he was not ready for parenthood.

Instead of discussing the issue, I made a snap decision. Angelica, I figured, had been right about LA. She must, I told myself, have some insight into my personal life too.
So, as peremptory as my decision now seems, I packed my bags for the U.S. and hired a divorce lawyer.

Sadly, what then felt like an exciting, if somewhat rash, thing to do was the beginning of my downfall.

For what had begun as a mild intrigue in psychics became an obsession that cost me thousands of pounds (an eyepopping £25,000, to be exact), my business and even my house—and took nearly 20 years to shake.

It got so bad I couldn’t make even the simplest decision without psychic advice. I forfeited my health, became gripped by terrible depression and fractured relationships with friends and my family.

Even today, I am still recovering from the disastrous consequences of my dependency. And I’m not alone. According to a recent Reader’s Digest poll, over half of the population believes in psychics and premonitions.

But when psychics charge anything from £60 to £500 an hour, what most people don’t realize is that it’s an expensive and unregulated industry that can lead to a dangerous obsession.

Psychics claim to be your friend and to have your best interests at heart—but it simply isn’t true.

Sadly, it was only when I lost everything—my company, my home and my friends—that I realized psychics were only interested in lining their pockets.

My first experience with a psychic was when I was 18. My family is from Ireland and even though I was brought up in the Midlands, I was surrounded by people who believed in mystics and spirits. It was impossible not to be curious.

I remember vividly the first psychic I went to see—I’d saved up a month’s wages from my Saturday job to pay for a tarot reading.

Matthew was an earnest old man who “tuned in” to a ring I always wore and used that and cards to tell me what was in store for my love life.

Looking back, I naively convinced myself he “knew” me. He told me so many things about myself that seemed to come true—particularly advice about a man I was seeing—that I became hooked.

He gave me a tape recording of our session, which I would listen to again and again. It was like a drug I had to have more of.
But my obsession really took root in my 20s, when I secured a high-paying job in TV production.

I began seeing clairvoyants, “sensitives,” psychics—anyone who claimed they could predict what was likely to happen to me. I loved the idea that someone might be able to guide me through difficult times in my life.

Often their predictions were wildly out, but I felt comforted that I didn’t have to make decisions on my own.

I once phoned a psychic to ask what color to decorate my hallway. (I took his advice and painted it yellow, to everyone else’s horror.)

And even if I fell out of “love” with one fortune teller, there was always another—everyone I knew had consulted a psychic at least once.

As I began to earn more money, I was able to afford the sought-after “psychics to the stars.” Aged 28, I paid £120 for an hour’s reading in a swanky Covent Garden hotel.
This psychic referred me to a “guru” in the Cotswolds, who I consulted every weekend for almost a year. I cringe when I think back to it—what was I, a well-educated, successful woman, thinking?

But I couldn’t help myself and it was at my guru’s cottage that I was coerced into spending thousands of pounds on “positive energy” paintings, which my spiritual guide said would release her energy into my home.

How could I afford not to have one on my wall, I reasoned. I stopped consulting her only when she claimed to have “found” me a husband – even I decided I’d rather find my own partner.

Years later, I read she had been sued in court over her dubious art business. That day I dumped her energy paintings in a skip, but my obsession with psychics continued.
By the time I reached my early 30s, I was on a six-figure salary running one of the country’s top ten TV companies.

So all-consuming was my compulsion to consult people with “special powers” that I got a series on clairvoyants commissioned by ITV.

To celebrate, I auditioned psychic after psychic. Their test: to get them to tell me all about myself.

Unfortunately, friendships became casualties of my obsession. When a close friend, Davina, was having boyfriend troubles, I jumped at her suggestion that we consult my psychic, Angelica.

This was around the time Angelica had accurately predicted my career move to the U.S. But Angelica told Davina to dump her boyfriend because he was cheating on her.
Unsurprisingly, this wasn’t the news Davina wanted to hear. Our friendship never recovered.

Still, I persevered and let Angelica—who had already sent my life into turmoil by insisting I left my marriage—cause further tumult.

She suggested “tuning in” to my family. It was then that she made the revelation that my cousin Caroline’s marriage was in terminal decline. That night I phoned my mum to tell her the “news.” Within hours, the prediction had spread like wildfire.

To my horror, the news that Caroline was getting a divorce had been faithfully reported as the truth. Caroline, of course, was devastated by the lies that had been circulating and I was banned from mentioning the word psychic in the presence of my family.

Once I arrived in LA in 2004, I pursued my psychic habit with renewed enthusiasm. For while in London I had to refer to my psychic habit in whispered tones, in LA everyone had at least two clairvoyants.

I was able to swap numbers with people as though we were talking about personal trainers or cosmetic surgeons. One in particular, Mary, took me under her wing.
She became my best friend, easing out my other friends so subtly that I never heard the alarm bells ringing. I began to rely so heavily on the counsel of Mary that when I was offered a job with a major Hollywood studio, I knew I could not take or reject the job without her advice.

“What should I do?” I wailed down the phone to Mary. Her recommendation was emphatic: “I’m definitely getting the vibe you should go back to London. I think you should start your own company. You’ll have massive success with it in the UK.”

So, on the slender basis of a mere premonition, I followed her counsel to the letter. My two sisters thought I was mad and my mum was deeply suspicious, but I was so convinced Mary had my best interests at heart that I ignored their concerns.

I moved back to London at Mary’s behest and started my own TV production company. Looking back, I realize, to my embarrassment, Mary had only her own mercenary interests at heart—she hoped I would be able to make her a TV star.

When that didn’t happen, Mary walked out of my life as quickly as she had entered it. Suddenly, I realized how foolish I had been and how precarious my business plan was. Two years after I set up my company I went bankrupt.

Despite the fact I did have shows on air in Britain and the U.S., I couldn’t sustain it. When the business went down, I did, too.

Aged 36, I’d lost everything. I had no marriage, no home (I’d remortgaged it for £150,000 to set up the business) and I sunk into depression.

It was only at that point that I recognized how dangerous my dependency on psychics had become. I resolved never to follow their advice again.

But my resolution was to last mere months. When one of my best friends offered to treat me to a reading with a “brilliant psychic” in the U.S., I caved in immediately.

The psychic, Elaine, foretold my second marriage to a “dark-skinned man with a son for whom English wouldn’t be his first language.” Like any confirmed addict, I knew my compulsion was dangerous, but I craved the high of talking about the “future.”

Uncannily, as if to confirm that I was right to go back to them, just a year later I went on to marry a Frenchman—my second husband is a carpenter called Pascal, who, owing to his Catalan genes, is dark-skinned. I’m stepmother to his teenage son.

Until recently, even on a modest income, I continued to consult psychics. But over the past few months my attitude has changed.

My husband and I have been trying for a baby for the past year. To my shame, I’ve spent the past six months consulting psychics instead of fertility experts.

It’s only now that I’ve realized my obsession has got to stop. When one psychic told me I’d have a girl, another contradicted this prediction by telling me twins were on the cards, while yet another told me I’d have a son.

After 20 years obsessing about psychics, the moment of clarity finally arrived. I realized what a total farce it is trying to predict the future.

It’s only today that I accept my dependency on psychics was not only emotionally dangerous and financially disastrous, but it also robbed me of my capacity to think for myself and plan my own future.

I live simply with Pascal in our home in south-west France. My lifestyle is far more modest than it was and I earn my living as a freelance writer.

While I do accept psychics can sometimes get things right (is it just luck, I now wonder?), I have finally realized, at the age of 39, that they can also get things wrong—and with devastating consequences.

–Samantha Brick

Over the past decade, the upsurge in technology has infused itself to the younger generation’s identity, bringing much attention to newer risks or threats to health. Sex addiction facilitated by the Internet is nothing new, but what about addiction to the Internet itself? People across the globe may find themselves compelled to their computer screen for shopping, gambling, social networking, gaming, viewing pornography, and more. But is this a sign of an underlining problem, or is the Internet the problem itself?

Internet addiction disorder (IAD) refers to the overuse of the computer (including use of the Internet) to the point where the usage interferes with everyday life and disrupts social functioning. Since 1995, the classification of Internet addiction disorder has been hotly debated, mainly due to the lack of research and evidence on which to base the diagnosis and the fact that the Internet is still relatively new. The disorder has not yet been accepted by the American Psychiatric Association as a formalized addiction, nor was it included in the 2009 publication of DSM-IV.

Supporters of the IAD diagnosis argue that Internet addiction should be considered a recognizable disorder, similar to alcoholism, due to its apparent correspondence of the addiction cycle: habitual use, withdrawal, increased tolerance, and negative consequences. Researchers such as Prof. David Greenfield of the Center for Internet Behavior and assistant clinical professor of psychiatry at the University of Connecticut’s School of Medicine; Maressa Orzack of Harvard University’s Computer Addiction Center at McLean Hospital; and Jerald J. Block, M.D. have petitioned for IAD’s inclusion in the DSM, although the American Medical Association recommended against its inclusion.

Why the debate? First, addiction is typically associated with a substance—something the body becomes dependent on. On the other hand, modern disorders such as IAD, gambling addiction, sexual addiction, and impulsive disorders can be considered a behavioral addiction, as in the case of obsessive-compulsive disorder in which the individual feels compelled to perform ritualistic acts in order to purge his or her anxiety.

So where does Internet addiction lie? Most research concludes that the Internet itself is not the source of addiction, but rather the medium to facilitate the addiction. Individuals with a gambling addiction may spend a great deal of time on gambling websites, but that does not mean that they are addicted to the Internet. These people tend to engage in gambling both online and in “real life,” although the latter can be difficult for those who suffer from social anxiety, so they may rely on the Internet as an outlet for their compulsion. The same can be argued for pornography addiction or compulsive shopping. In these cases, the Internet is more like a compulsion rather than an addiction. Some may use the Internet to write emails, read the news, or gather information. These acts are not innovative concepts—they are social interactions merely performed through a different medium.

Researchers like sociologist Keith Hampton, an assistant professor at the Annenberg School for Communication at the University of Pennsylvania and lead author of the Pew Research Center’s investigation of Internet addiction, believes that the appearance of newer technologies such as the Internet and mobile devises does not disrupt social interactivity. People may develop compulsions such as excessive use of the Internet in order to appease an underlying disorder as in social anxiety disorder. Additionally, people who have been identified as suffering from IAD also commonly suffer from other anxiety disorders, depression, or substance abuse. In this light, Internet addiction appears to be a symptom of a recognizable disorder rather than the disorder itself.

However, some modern researchers argue that this compulsive identification is the very reason why the disorder should be termed as an official addiction, like obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Internet addiction has been known to jeopardize personal relationships, employment or school status, and has caused multiple symptoms such as agitation, nervousness, insomnia, aggressiveness, anorexia, and tremulousness, according to some recent studies, which find these symptoms to be parallel with the definition of dependency. Cases of Internet addiction have also evidenced euphoria, tolerance, and cognitive salience, which identify IAD within the constructs of addiction.

Yet the debate is ongoing in the United States. Due to insufficient evidence and unbiased polls or criteria, along with the lack of evidenced physiologic dependency, the condition has not gained acceptance as a formally recognized addiction. In addition, most research finds that there is no negative effect if the affected individual is removed from his or her compulsive environment.

However, IAD is another issue globally. China has stated that Internet use and video gaming addiction has become a public health concern, and researchers are claiming that anywhere between 2–15% of Internet users are addicted. Professor Greenfield believes that 3–6% of users have developed IAD.

The first rehabilitation center for Internet addiction, called the reSTART Internet Addiction Recovery Program, opened its doors this July in Washington. The program accepts up to 6 patients at a time in the treatment of Internet and video gaming addiction recovery, a 45-day program costing $14,500. The center treats patients in the manner similar to other substance recovery programs, teaching patients how to control their compulsions and use the Internet in a healthy manner.

Parents may find their teens attached to their cell phones, either chatting or text messaging at all hours of the day; video games are becoming more complex and interactive, sucking in kids for hours at a time; blogging and social networking are the lifelines for today’s youth. Should these technologies be considered addictions? The answer is still to be determined by the American Medical Association. Parents should keep this debate in mind when considering a behavioral problem among their children; technology is a growing industry that means different things for different generations. If you feel that you or a loved one may have developed a behavioral problem involving Internet use, counseling or cognitive behavioral therapy is recommended.

For years, it was commonly believed that marijuana was not addictive—and many recreational users still believe this to be true. People thought that because marijuana is natural and has very few side effects, unlike other illicit drugs, developing a dependency on the substance was improbable. However, as further research has been performed, evidence indicates that marijuana is indeed addictive and can lead to major physical and mental health problems down the road.

Marijuana or cannabis is the most widely used illicit drug in the United States. It is a dry, shredded, green and brown mixture of flowers, leaves, and stems from the hemp plant Cannabis sativa. Historically, the hemp plant dates as far back as 2700 B.C. When settlers first moved to the U.S. in the 16th and 17th centuries, the plant was regularly grown and cultivated for its medicinal use. It wasn’t until 1937 and the introduction of the Marijuana Tax Act that the drug become criminalized.

Since then, there has been a lot of back and forth on legalizing the drug—some say it should be legalized for medical reasons, and others think it should be legal because they believe it to be harmless. However, the substance is far from harmless.

The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM I-V) states the criteria for substance dependence is based on tolerance, withdrawal symptoms, using the drug even if there are negative consequences associated with it, and giving up social and recreational activities because of drug use. Many marijuana users may believe they do not meet these criteria, but according to the 2002 National Survey on Drug Use and Health, 4.3 million Americans were classified with dependence on or abuse of marijuana.

Most individuals who suffer from marijuana addiction have been long-term users. Addiction symptoms include a compulsion to continue the drug use with little to no regard to the harmful effects it will have on an individual’s health; becoming tolerant to the drug and needing to take more of it to get the same effect; and developing problems with their job or personal relationships as a result of the drug taking precedent over everything else. Marijuana abusers who have reportedly tried to quit experience withdrawal symptoms such as irritability, sleeplessness, and anxiety.

Long-term marijuana abusers are more prone to suffer from anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts than their non-using peers. It is also suggested that marijuana increases the likelihood of developing cancer due to the carcinogenic hydrocarbons found in the drug.

Marijuana dependency is no longer a disease that should be downplayed, but one that needs to be addressed like any other drug addiction. Long-term abuse leads to long-term problems that can be avoided by getting professional help.

Addiction invaded our home in 1991. It slithered in and sat down at our dining room table, grew large and fat, fed on our misery, laughing, mocking us with its power. It claimed Jeff when he was just a fourteen-year-old boy. I did everything I could think of to save my son, but in the end I could do nothing, not really, to extricate him or to free our family from addiction’s claws.

This is one of Libby Cataldi’s many gripping, vivid descriptions of the way her son Jeff’s addiction affected her family. In Stay Close: A Mother’s Story of Her Son’s Addiction, Cataldi chronicles her family’s descent into drug addiction and eventual rise into hope and recovery.

By revisiting journal entries from as far back as 1997 and recalling events with the help of her two sons and their father, Cataldi crafts a beautifully written, enlightening story that bares the gritty truth of addiction and the tremendous hope and love that can arise from it.

The Formative Years

Cataldi tells the story of Jeff’s life from when he was a young boy donning a Superman cape and cowboy boots, dreaming of space travel, to being in jail for possession of heroin and drug paraphernalia, dreaming of getting another fix.

“Jeff, from his earliest years, loved to imagine, to create, and I can trace his childhood through his fantasies,” Cataldi writes. “Maybe Jeff always wanted to escape reality, live somewhere else. It seemed so harmless then, during his early years.”

When Jeff started skateboarding in the fifth grade, he also started getting into trouble, mostly with cigarettes. But cigarettes soon led to alcohol and marijuana, though Cataldi didn’t know it at the time. “The truth of these years of Jeff’s early drug use is still a blur to me,” she writes. “While I was concerned about cigarettes, Jeff was smoking pot, drinking, and watching pornography.”

Then the raves started. Though Cataldi and Jeff’s father Tim initially refused to let their 15-year-old son attend these all-night parties, Jeff would concoct elaborate lies and ruses, pretending he was staying at a friend’s house or going on a weekend camping trip but actually sneaking off to raves, where drugs flowed like water. Jeff later admitted that it was during this time period when he became “enraptured with drug use and the party scene.”

At raves, Jeff was introduced to drugs like Ecstasy, ketamine, PCP, and mescaline, as well as drugs he already had access to, like crystal meth, cocaine, and LSD. “Like a basecoat of paint, everybody was on something, trying to get higher on something else,”
Jeff recalls.

On Christmas Eve during his 11th grade year, Jeff was arrested for possession of cocaine and ketamine. Cataldi soon learned that Jeff was also using crystal meth, when a concerned parent called her to inform her. With his drug use now obvious to his parents, he announced he wanted to switch to a military academy, a boarding school in Virginia. His parents agreed, assuming that he wouldn’t have access to drugs there and would be under strict supervision. However, Jeff had the weekends off, which gave him full access to raves “and a level of detachment” he wouldn’t have had living at home.

When Jeff left home for boarding school, Cataldi and her husband separated. “We were a family joined together in love, but Tim and I didn’t know how to negotiate a life together, let alone a life that included addiction,” she explains. A few months later, Jeff’s younger brother Jeremy decided to switch schools too, and would be joining his brother at military school.

Jeremy told Cataldi later, “I wanted to be with Jeff; I would have followed him to the ends of the earth. Jeff and I had an unspoken bond. I always felt safer with him. As much as I wanted to be his protector, I felt Jeff protected me.” But Jeremy did protect his brother as well, covering for Jeff when grilled about his drug use.

“Jeremy learned silence, to hold his tongue, and he suffered during those years, first from the constant tension in the house and later from his parents’ separation and Jeff’s departure, always feeling the need to divide his loyalty between his parents and his brother,” Cataldi writes.

Trouble Brewing in Boston

After Jeff graduated from the academy—despite being suspended for smoking and being involved with someone who was reportedly selling drugs on campus to students—he entered Boston University, where things only got worse. Cataldi noticed his diminished physical appearance and lack of appetite, though Jeff insisted he had just been sick with the flu.

“From periods of drug use I remembered the weight losses, muted smiles, and dwindled energy…I remembered how his vocabulary languished, as it tiny neurons of his brain’s language center were obliterated,” Cataldi writes. “During those times of drug use a kind of curtain seemed to fall between us, as if a cloak of darkness shrouded my son’s inner brightness, clouded his life’s spark, and eroded his mind’s vitality.”

As Jeff’s time at Boston Univeristy went on, he became addicted to ketamine (also known as “K”), which is an animal tranquilizer that can be injected, smoked, or snorted. At one point he was taken to the ER with almost paralyzing abdominal pain, which turned out to be a side effect of the ketamine, often called “K cramps.” But his constant use of the drug took K cramps to the extreme, requiring kidney surgery.

“K stood out against everything else at the time, and it altered feelings in the most dramatic ways,” remembers Jeff. “Like soaking my mind in watercolor paint, K animated everything around me…Whole afternoons seemed to pass in forty-five minutes and I’d hear friends talk without ever opening their mouths…Everything I saw I believed, and unlike hallucinations on acid, things on K are softer and more surreal.”

“Occasionally, though, I’d do too much, and the high would get scary…when someone overdoes it, it can stop movement and conscious thinking, a lot like being paralyzed,” Jeff explains. “When that happened…a collage of memories from all stages of life would clutter my mind, and I’d become horribly disoriented.” Jeff explains that the drug was intense, especially since he and his friends preferred to inject it.

Cataldi stayed close to Jeff after his kidney surgery, helping him recover. But one night she found him with one of his old friends, obviously high. He told her he took six Percocet because he was in pain from the surgery, but later admitted he had shot ketamine that night too.

Jeff continued to tell his mother that he was in counseling and had been drug free since taking the Percocet, but Cataldi wasn’t convinced. When he asked to come home for the summer, she told him he could only come home if he went to rehab for 28 days, as she didn’t trust him to stay sober.

Starting Rehab

Jeff completed 28 days of rehab at Father Martin’s Ashley, and Cataldi began learning about the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and started attending Al-Anon meetings. Jeff had a full-time job as an intern in a commercial real estate company and was doing well, but Cataldi became concerned that he wasn’t attending 12-step meetings regularly. In the fall, Jeff returned to college, where Jeremy would be starting his first year.

Then Cataldi received an alarming phone call from Jeff’s girlfriend, Sophie, who told Cataldi that Jeff was using ketamine again, shooting into his arms and legs. When confronted, Jeff admitted that he was using again but became defiant and defensive.

“After rehab the previous summer and back in Boston, drugs reentered the picture,” Jeff writes. “I started drinking, which opened doors to coke and pills, then K, then everything else. If you’re not working against addiction, it returns. It’s inevitable.”

The next concerned call came from Jeremy, who called his mother, begging her to stop giving Jeff money because he was using it for drugs. Cataldi said she hadn’t given him money in over a month, and Jeremy tearfully explained that he found syringes in the bathroom. “Jeff’s a mess,” he told his mom. “He gets high and can’t even move his body. He’s gonna die.”

Cataldi didn’t know what to do, as he had already been through treatment and she’d laid out consequences (she refused to give him money and wouldn’t let him stay with her). So she called Jeff and asked him point-blank about his sobriety, and Jeff ultimately agreed to enter a three-month halfway house in Florida, where he seemed to do well.

“He was learning new skills and creating a new life for himself, one based on honest work and the principles of AA,” Cataldi writes of Jeff’s time at the halfway house. “Jeff’s sponsor taught him that had to acknowledge his many mistakes, make amends, and move forward. ‘Do the Next Right Thing’ became Jeff’s motto, words that helped him redirect his life.”

Jeff left the halfway house after being there for almost nine months—even after being kicked out for two weeks for lying about attending mandatory AA meetings—and returned to Boston to complete his degree, although his counselors did not support the idea of him going back to the “people, places, and things” that could trigger his addiction. However, Jeff was determined to finish school there, which he did. He was soon hired by the PR firm for which he had interned, and he and a close friend decided to share an apartment in New York City.

New City, New Problems

But New York brought more trouble. “In those final months in Boston…I’d developed some bad habits that traveled with me to New York,” Jeff writes. “When I was alone and finishing school, I started using drugs that were less social and a little darker…Getting high was less about the party and more about feeling connected.”

Cataldi was under the impression that Jeff had been drug-free since he left the halfway house three years prior, but she was in the dark. One summer Jeff met Cataldi in Italy, where they spent two wonderful weeks together. “I remember well his smile and his gentle personality and manner…I remember his laughter, the way he would bend his head back and look into the sky, and his joy would resonate, deep with pleasure,” she recalls.

But this ideal time came to an abrupt end after Jeff left Italy, when Cataldi’s friend Ombretta told her that Jeff had confided in her that more than eight months earlier, a boy had died of a heroin overdose in Jeff’s apartment. “As I packed to leave Italy,” Cataldi writes, “the word ‘heroin’ was alive in my mind, followed by two more words: ‘death’ and ‘Jeff.’”

Back in New York, Jeff began riding a bike for a delivery service that sold high-quality pot. Cataldi knew he had a delivery job, but didn’t know what was being delivered. At this time Jeff was using heroin every day, and his life revolved around it. “My friends that weren’t carrying habits themselves were pretty unimpressed with the routine, and some even tried to intervene. I was on my way down and everybody knew it,” Jeff writes.

Soon Cataldi received yet another concerned call from a friend of Jeff’s, and Cataldi was now aware of Jeff’s heroin habit. “Hadn’t I noticed his nodding off, she asked, his eyes closing as if he were about to fall asleep? She explained, almost incredulously, as if I should have been well aware that this was the telltale sign of heroin use,” Cataldi recalls.

Struggling to Stay Clean

When Cataldi confronted Jeff, he admitted that it was all true, and that he had been using heroin almost exclusively for three years. “He explained that heroin provided him peace, a comfortable level of belonging—much like a love that a person had always been searching for, heroin was like a warm cocoon of affection,” Cataldi explains.

“He both loved and hated his addiction: He cherished the high from heroin, but abhorred its grasp on him, abhorred the consequences of his use,” she continues. “He told me that he wanted to get clean, needed detox, and had tried several times on his own, but he couldn’t stick with it.”

Cataldi helped him detox while waiting for an opening at Pathways, a nearby drug rehab center associated with a local hospital. She could never seem to get through to the admissions office, and when she did, was told that they didn’t have any open beds. After three days, they were finally seen at Pathways but were told that Jeff would only be given a bed for three days. He did well there and registered in their outpatient program, agreeing to attend AA meetings and find a sponsor. But he was soon using again.

“I was always conflicted about my use,” Jeff writes. “For as much stillness and warmth as heroin provides, the inevitable detox is hell. When you’re carrying a habit, it’s impossible to accept the drug as the source of your problems. I was convinced that life was harsh and heroin was the only thing making it bearable. Heroin was the solution, not the problem.”

But he was also trying to maintain a job and a sense of professionalism, and the bills were mounting. “Every week I told myself I was going to get clean. I’d set dates, contact methadone clinics, and buy detox meds from friends…I tried to kick once a month or so, but I rarely lasted more than forty-eight hours,” he admits.

Another Dark Chapter

The pattern continued: Jeff would detox, then relapse. Then the news came: Cataldi was diagnosed with breast cancer. She soon had a bilateral mastectomy, and both sons stayed with her during and after the surgery. “You’ve always been our mainstay, strong for Jeremy and me, but now you were in the hospital with cancer and I was terrified,” Jeff later told Cataldi.

“It’s incredibly hard for a son to know that his mother is sick and there’s nothing to do about it,” Jeff wrote—only now understanding that his mother felt the same way about him. “Although my drug use showed no regard for the family, I’ve always loved and cared deeply for everyone,” he continued. “Addicts bear a hard juxtaposition. If it weren’t for the euphoria connected to the drug, we’d never be able to handle it.”

The surgery was successful, and Cataldi was free of cancer. “My chest is raw and cut,” reads her journal, “but the hurt doesn’t rival the perpetual state of heartache for my son.” Jeff’s drug use continued, and though Cataldi felt grateful for his life each time she saw him, she also felt powerless and useless.

Cataldi’s 84-year-old father called her out on Jeff’s addiction, telling her she needed to tell him to stop. “Don’t you think, Dad, that I’ve already told him to stop, a million times over?” she responded. Jeff told her years later, “Telling an addict to stop is as effective as telling a man without legs to stand up and do cartwheels.”

Again the cycle continued, with Jeff struggling to get clean and relapsing, even going back to the halfway house in Florida, to a 60-day detox and rehab program at the state-run Drug Abuse Foundation, to an extended-care facility in Texas, and back to the Drug Abuse Foundation. During this period, Jeff entered numerous programs and regularly walked out of them, weeks and months short of the time he’d initially intended to stay. Jeff showed signs of wanting to get clean, but was never able to follow through with treatment. Then, in 2005, Jeff landed in jail for heroin possession. Cataldi and Tim decided not to bail him out, in hopes of the experience finally setting him straight.

That’s when Cataldi decided to write a book. “I want to write this book, but maybe it is just a book of a mother’s angst and tears, and crazy lives. The disease of addiction, a family disease, a disease that corrodes all of life, suffocates all its members, eliminating the ability to even see the sun,” her journal reads. “I want to quit writing, but I don’t know what else to do with my mind, my heart. My firstborn son, what will become of him? When will he learn? Will he ever learn?”

Jeff ended up posting his own bond and returning to the Florida halfway house. He was upset that his parents left him in jail, and Cataldi responded, “You’ve been jumped, beaten, hospitalized, institutionalized, arrested, and homeless. What’s it going to take for you to stop your drug use? Maybe this is it.”

Stay Close

Jeff’s case was ultimately dismissed, and he left for California, following a girl he had met at the halfway house in Florida. He ended up miserable there, constantly fighting with his girlfriend and using crystal meth and drinking. When he asked his mother for help, she offered for him to enter a program in Italy called San Patrignano, which required a three- to five-year commitment. Jeff declined, but the director stayed in contact with Cataldi, offering support and advice.

“The Italian patriarch of this office, a recovering alcoholic himself…tried to help me understand the concept behind two words: stagli vicino, stay close to him. He repeated these two words over and over again as he drove the point home to me…that Jeff needed to know that he was loved even when he was unlovable, even when he was closed away from us, and especially when he was at his sickest.” Stagli vicino, stay close, became Cataldi’s motto.

“This thinking of stagli vicino was contrary to much of the advice I had heard from other experts in the United States, who had encouraged me to ‘use tough love, let him hit his bottom, make him leave the house, don’t answer his calls, bury him in your head, have a funeral for him,’” she recalls. “These responses hadn’t worked for our family doctor, hadn’t worked for me, hadn’t worked for Jeff.” So Cataldi decided to do the opposite, to stay close. “I would not abandon him, and I would be constant,” she remembers.

Road to Recovery

After returning to a recovery ranch and attending AA meetings, Jeff finally came to a realization. “My body was eating itself from the inside out, and I felt hollow…I’ve never been so stripped by a drug before—every inch of composure was lost. That was the first turning point,” Jeff writes. “I’ve never been so grateful to be that broken.”

When he shared his story at a meeting, the leader said flatly, “Yep, some people have to die from this disease,” and then moved on to the next person. “The night I arrived and heard Harry respond to my share, I remember thinking, ‘Unreal. Has it really come to that? Is death my final option?’ It was heavy, but Harry was honest, and I needed to hear exactly that.”

Jeff continues, “I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t want to stop using, either. They say that addicts aren’t afraid to die, they’re afraid to live without drugs. I was there. It wasn’t until I started praying that things turned around.” At the 10 Acre Ranch, he spent his days focusing on his recovery, reading the Big Book (by the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous), praying, meditating, and writing in his journal.

Jeff agreed to see Dr. Patrick MacAfee, a psychologist and family addiction therapist, and after three meetings Cataldi realized that Jeff trusted him. “We know a lot about addiction,” Dr. McAfee said. “What we don’t know much about is how addicts learn to live in sobriety. Jeff will have to learn how to live a sober life.” Jeff learned how to put his recovery first, for the first time.

After two and a half months of living at the ranch, Jeff found an apartment in Newport Beach and enrolled in an outpatient program at Sober Living by the Sea. When Cataldi came to visit, she was shocked at Jeff’s transformation. “He was tanned and a little heavier, fuller in the face, healthy looking; his eyes were clear; his voice was strong,” she recalls.

Dr. MacAfee continued to help Jeff, explaining that addiction is the loss of self, and that recovery is a transformative process where one recovers self. “Recovery offered Jeff the freedom to rediscover his identity and, in time, a real and authentic young man would emerge,” Cataldi writes.

On July 21, 2006, at age 28, Jeff quit using for good, and he now has more than three years of sobriety. He also reentered the professional world of public relations, and has been successfully working in the field ever since. “Today, Jeff acknowledges his past and strives for a better tomorrow,” Cataldi writes. “Today, he works—works at his job, works at his recovery, and works with his God.”

Today, their family is stronger than ever. “Jeremy has begun to break his long-held silence,” Cataldi writes, adding that Jeff and Jeremy visit each other and spend time together. “No matter what happens or what the future holds,” Jeremy told his mother, “Jeff and I are brothers…Jeff will always be my heart.”

While Cataldi spent countless hours over the years trying to find the source of Jeff’s addiction, trying to figure out why one of her sons was an addict and the other wasn’t, she now spends her time learning about how to support her son in his recovery. She firmly believes that families and people who love addicts need to say close to them, to give them patience, tolerance, and love.

Cataldi will never quit believing in Jeff, she’ll never quit praying or hoping for the best. She’ll always stay close.

TheBostonChannel.com reports that days before Michael Jackson’s death—which was caused by a lethal amount of propofol—the American Association of Nurse Anesthetists warned hospitals to restrict access to the drug.

"Those providers who have issues with insomnia, many times they think that by giving themselves a little bit of propofol, it puts them into a deep enough sleep, and they wake up refreshed," said Steve Alves, the vice president of the American Association of Nurse Anesthetists, and an associate clinical professor with Northeastern University.

But even providers who use it on a daily basis are unclear how potent it can be. A recent study found that 30 percent of physicians who abused propofol actually died. Last year, Dr. Brent Cambron was found dead in a storage closet at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, surrounded by a half-filled vial of propofol and other drugs.

"It’s a very stressful environment that we work in and unfortunately these are some of the avenues that people take," said Alves.

Dr. Michael Fitzsimons, an anesthesiologist with Massachusetts General Hospital, says the hospital is well aware of that fact that between 1 and 2 percent of anesthesia providers are abusing a wide variety of potent drugs, including propofol. It’s believed to be the same percentage among all health care providers.

"It’s easy access. We are one of the few physicians who obtain the drugs ourselves," he said. "We’ve instituted random drug testing of attending physicians, nurse anesthetists, residents, and fellows in 2003 in an attempt to decrease the incidence within our department. Our greatest fear is the death of an individual. And that is what we are trying to prevent," Fitzsimons said.

To millions of fans and others around the world, Michael Jackson was nothing less than a music phenomenon. Over the course of three decades his music and lyrics touched, shocked, outraged, perplexed, and inspired people from every walk of life.

Whether you lived in bustling New York City or a third-world country, Michael Jackson’s music eventually made its way into your life. How he lived, and how he died on June 25, 2009, will similarly be forever etched in our consciousness. It cannot be otherwise, given the plethora of publicity about this admittedly reclusive and, some would say, tortured genius.

Is there a lesson to be learned from the life and death of Michael Jackson? What does an analysis of his life teach us about how to live—and how not to? Here are some thoughts.

Youngest of the Jackson Five
Born in 1958 in Gary, Indiana, Michael Jackson was the 7th of 9 children. With his love of signing, he became the lead singer for the Jackson 5 in 1964, becoming a music sensation along with his brothers Jermaine, Tito, Jackie, and Marlon. His other siblings include brother Randy and sisters Rebbie, Janet, and La Toya.

At first, the Jackson 5 played gigs around Gary, but their talent couldn’t be contained. By 1968 they signed with the powerhouse Motown, led by Berry Gordy, and promptly moved to California. Michael was 9 years old at the time. The Jackson 5 remained with Motown, recording 14 albums (with Michael recording 4 solo albums) until 1976, when they signed with Epic and changed their name to The Jacksons. Between 1976 and 1984, the group made 6 albums.

Instant Early Success: Seeds of Trouble?
Never having a normal childhood, Michael was constantly practicing, singing, dancing, and performing. Some say his father, Joe Jackson, also the group’s manager, was either neglectful or abusive to the young singer. That assertion has never been proven, but what is clearly evident is that Michael was never allowed to grow up in a normal environment. What could possibly be normal about living in the spotlight before you even have your permanent teeth?

In 1977, Michael made his film debut as the Scarecrow, starring with Diana Ross in “The Wiz.” It was during the making of this film that he met Quincy Jones, who would figure prominently in Michael’s life and helped produce Michael’s first solo album, Off The Wall, with Epic. A worldwide success, the album was the first to have 4 number-one singles released in the U.S. Michael broke his nose during a difficult dance routine in 1979, requiring surgery. It wasn’t successful, and he had two more operations to correct breathing difficulties.

But the 1982 release of his second album, Thriller, shot Michael into the stratosphere in public awareness, producing 7 hit singles and more than 50 million worldwide sales. He gathered the best producers, directors, and special effects artists to create phenomenally popular music videos for “Billie Jean” and “Thriller.” Performing his legendary Moonwalk in 1983 at the Motown anniversary show, Michael was officially a superstar. He won an incredible 8 Grammy Awards in 1984, mostly for his work on the Thriller album. By December of that year, Michael quit The Jacksons and went solo.

Between 1987 and the release of his third solo album, Bad, and his fourth, Dangerous, in 1991 with Sony, Michael came out with his first autobiography, Moonwalk, and was named Artist of the Decade. He toured the world in 1992, bringing his music to places that had never seen such a pop music star, and he also founded the Heal the World Foundation.

Then, in 1993 he was charged with sexual abuse against a child. Although Michael was never prosecuted, he did make a $22 million out-of-court settlement with the family of the alleged 13-year old victim. His older sister, La Toya, proclaimed Michael to be a pedophile, although she later retracted the comment. The tabloids had a field day and Michael’s career took a serious hit. Michael, according to his friends, never recovered from the humiliation of the ordeal.

He married Lisa Marie Presley, daughter of the rock legend Elvis Presley, in 1994, but the marriage lasted only 19 months.

Fatherhood and More Charges of Sexual Abuse
Michael married Debbie Rowe in 1996, a nurse he met during the treatment for his skin pigment disorder, vetiligo. Together they had two children and divorced in 1999, with Rowe granting full custody of the children to Michael. Later, in 2002, Michael had a third child, reportedly through artificial insemination with a surrogate mother. He made worldwide headlines when he dangled the newborn out of a Berlin hotel room balcony, an incident he later called “a terrible mistake.”

In 2003, another 13-year old boy accused Michael of sexual abuse and the singer was charged with 7 counts of child molestation and 2 counts of administering an intoxicating agent. In the two years between the allegations and the trial, Michael was examined by a mental health professional who said that the singer was a regressed 10-year old child and did not fit the profile of a pedophile. Michael lost a great deal of weight during this time and reportedly became dependent on the prescription drug pethidine (Demerol). His 2005 trial lasted 5 months, ending in his acquittal on all charges. He retreated from public appearances and moved to the Gulf island of Bahrain as the guest of Sheikh Abdullah.

The End of the Line
Although financial problems were mounting for Michael, he remained steadfast in his determination of innocence—and his faith in his loving family and millions of fans. He returned to the U.S. to attend the funeral of singer James Brown in 2006, and that year also agreed to joint custody of his two children with Debbie Rowe.

With the second anniversary of Thriller came the release of Thriller 25, which sold more than 3 million copies worldwide in just three weeks. Financial concerns loomed greater in 2008 with Michael’s creditors seeking repayment on millions of dollars for loans made using his Neverland Ranch as collateral. A large auction of his memorabilia by Julien’s Auction House was planned, but was later cancelled at Michael’s request.

Michael was plagued by chronic insomnia, according to his personal physician, Dr. Conrad Murray, who says he administered propofol (a powerful anesthetic) and the sedatives lorazepam (Ativan) and midazolam (Versed) to the singer at his request. On June 25, 2009, Michael Jackson died of apparent cardiac arrest. On August 24, 2009, the Los Angeles County coroner ruled Michael Jackson’s death a homicide after forensic tests indicated a lethal presence of propofol and at least two other sedatives. Dr. Murray is now the subject of a manslaughter investigation by the Los Angeles Police Department.

According to an unsealed search warrant affidavit, the doctor says he treated the singer with 50 milligrams of propofol via intravenous drip every night for about 6 weeks. He feared that Michael was developing an addiction to the drug, and attempted to wean him off by lowering the dose to 20 milligrams and adding sedatives midazolam and lorazepam. According to news reports, Murray told investigators that this combination helped Michael to sleep two nights before his death, prompting the doctor to cut off propofol the next day.

On June 25, Murray started off with a 10-milligram tablet of Valium, followed by a series of drugs. These were 2 milligrams of lorazepam at 2 a.m., 2 milligrams of midazolam at 3 a.m., and repeats of both at 5 a.m. and 7:30 a.m., respectively. They didn’t work.

After Michael’s repeated requests and demands for propofol, which he called his “milk,” Murray gave in and administered 25 milligrams of propofol at 10:30 a.m. He stayed with Michael for 10 minutes, then went to the bathroom. Two minutes later he came back to check on his patient, finding that he wasn’t breathing. Dr. Murray began CPR and gave Michael 0.2 milligrams of flumazanil (Anexate) to try to reverse the effects of the sedatives. It was unsuccessful. Michael was rushed to the hospital, where he was pronounced dead.

According to anesthesia experts, there’s no doubt that the combination of the drugs tipped the balance and took Michael Jackson’s life. One such expert, Lee Cantrell, director of the San Diego division of the California Poison Control System, called the administering of the drugs a “horrible polypharmacy,” adding that “no one will treat an insomniac like this.” At his death, the singer also had multiple bed sores, which apparently developed since 2005 when he spent long stretches in bed following the child molestation charges and trial.

Parting Lesson
What can we learn from this tragedy? The life and death of Michael Jackson point to the fact that we cannot insulate ourselves from our pain by failing to address it. It doesn’t help to try to change who we are and what we look like, or to take drugs in an effort to escape into sleep to forget the stress in our lives.

Millions of people—Michael’s fans and others—have read and continue to read every bit of news concerning the late King of Pop. If there’s anything good that can come out of all this mountain of minutiae of the singer’s life, it’s this: Michael’s tragic and untimely death highlights the dangers of using highly addictive prescription drugs and mixing medications. Through his story, some people may decide to seek treatment. If addiction can happen to someone of such worldwide stature, it can happen to you.

In the case of Michael Jackson, he undoubtedly had the means to be treated for his addiction, but he chose not to. Maybe it was due to an accumulation of pain. Maybe it was because he was still a child inside. Maybe it was because he couldn’t deal with the reality that his life had become.

Let the world see this for what it truly is: a tragedy and a waste of human potential. Michael Jackson, for all his talent and failings, was a human being who dared to dream and lived the dream, until it became a nightmare.

Whether you’re an alcoholic or alcohol-dependent and thinking about getting clean and sober, you’re bound to worry about what that kind of life would be like sans alcohol. There are commonly held fears about sobriety that should be put to rest once and for all. Here are some of the frequently heard comments about being sober.

“I won’t be able to have any fun anymore.” If by having fun you mean partying with old chums who are still drinking and doing drugs, then the party will definitely be over once you’re committed to sobriety. But real fun doesn’t entail dulling your senses and falling into a stupor or doing extremely dangerous and potential hurtful things. What you should do is find new friends, people who are also clean and sober, or who don’t drink and do drugs. Join groups where you can participate in activities you always wanted to do, but were too drunk or high to do before. Try parasailing, skydiving, snowboarding, surfing, skiing, playing music, and going to the beach or movies and concerts. Another benefit of doing these activities sober is how much more enjoyable they’ll be, how much more vivid the experience and the memories will be. What you once thought of as fun will pale in comparison to a life rich in reality, one that’s completely drug and alcohol free.

“No one will want to be with me.” As an addict, you probably worry that once you’re clean and sober you won’t have any friends, or that people you meet will decide they don’t want to be around you because you don’t engage in the same activities they do. This is an unfounded fear that’s rooted in your own insecurities and feelings of worthlessness. Part of the treatment you’ll receive to overcome your addiction will be to help you discover what’s good and loveable about yourself, as well as to build your self-esteem, confidence, and communication skills. You’ll start to feel better about yourself, which will lead to you being able to more easily engage in conversation with others. The new you, clean and sober, will have so much more to offer that you will be amazed at the quality of friendships you will attract.

“I won’t be able to talk to people. I had a gift of gab when I drank.” Most alcoholics do feel like they have a silver tongue. And many do, since we’ve all seen people drinking who seem to be the life of the party, regaling everyone with jokes and stories or dancing the night away. That is, until they become so intoxicated that they start falling down, slurring their words, nodding off—then their antics become comic or tragic. Worst of all, the intoxicated individual seldom remembers the episodes, or what they do remember is rose-colored and totally untrue. If this is one of your fears, that you won’t be able to find anything to say to another if you quit drinking, lay that fear to rest right now. True, alcohol does lower your inhibitions, but drinking too much also makes you say and do things you might regret. That’s hardly a trait others admire. Concentrate on learning new coping and communication skills. You’ll do just fine in recovery.

“I’m afraid of what it will be like to be clean and sober.” If this is your fear, it’s probably been a long time since you’ve been free of alcohol and/or drugs. Chronic drug or alcohol dependence clouds your mind and robs you of memory. You may also have difficulty making plans or learning new things, so it’s no surprise that you’d fear what you can’t imagine. Learning to live in a drug- and alcohol-free manner involves making a genuine commitment to a new and permanent lifestyle. That’s scary to a lot of people and deters many from seeking or completing treatment. Stop hiding behind the excuse of alcohol or drugs and embrace the possibility of realizing all your long-buried hopes and dreams. You can do it. You owe it to yourself to try. For the time being, just try to envision a life full of promise, where there are no limits to what you can achieve. Then, get into treatment.

“I’m afraid I can’t make it through stressful days without drinking.” You may have been using alcohol as a crutch, using the bottle as your anesthetic to dull whatever might bother you. What began as a drink here or there after work soon wound up being much more than that, to the point where you couldn’t wait to get home and get drunk. Maybe you even tossed back a few at work, in the car on the way home, or in the morning to get you going. Far from being an escape from stress, the more you drink, the more stressful things become. Life doesn’t go hide in a closet while you drink. Life goes on as before—just as stressful, just as hectic. But when you are in treatment, you learn how to deal with stress so that it doesn’t mount up and immobilize you. New coping skills and behavior modifications will enable you to tackle whatever life throws your way. And there are always your support-group allies to help talk you through any crises that arise. Yes, there is hope for coping with life’s stresses without drinking—if you commit to it.

“I can’t handle responsibility. I’m not good at that.” It was so much easier not having to deal with anything substantial while you were drinking, wasn’t it? Paying bills, being a good husband/wife/parent/sibling/friend, taking care of your duties at work, even driving responsibly. Saying you’re afraid of being clean and sober because you don’t think you can handle responsibility is a cop-out, plain and simple. You didn’t want to be responsible, and you used drinking as an excuse. Try to remember back before you drank. You weren’t always irresponsible. As human beings, we all have the capability to handle responsibility. It’s part of the natural instinct to survive. While you are in treatment, you will learn about accepting responsibility, and you’ll learn ways to ensure that you follow through on your commitments.

“I’ll lose my friends.” Your old drinking and drug-using buddies? You bet. But you should embrace this as a positive sign that you’re on the right track. Being clean and sober means that you will avoid the temptations that come with certain people, places, and things. You can’t afford to be around them any longer—and, after you’ve been through treatment and are in recovery, you’ll realize that they weren’t really your friends anyway. True friends don’t enable each other to poison their existence in an endless cycle of drinking and drugs. You’ll be making new friends in treatment and recovery, as well as through your support group meetings and new activities you will now start to enjoy.

“It’ll be too much for me–I’m not that brave.” You’d be surprised at how much courage you have inside you. What you need to do is give yourself a chance. The first step is to admit you have a problem with alcohol or drugs and then genuinely commit to seeking and completing treatment to overcome the problem. Don’t worry about how much bravery you need. We all have sufficient bravery in our DNA to handle such a challenge. But many of us use the excuse that we’re cowards just so we can keep on using. If you truly want to live a clean and sober life, you’re already ahead of the game. Intention and commitment are crucial to successful recovery. In treatment, you’ll have individual and group counseling and learn that you are not alone in your struggle. There are others just like you that are meeting their fears head on—and coming out on the other side with a bright and limitless future.

“I’m afraid I’ll actually feel something.” You should embrace the possibility of again being able to feel strong emotions like love, joy, pride in yourself, hope for the future, and belief in your inner goodness. It’s probably been such a long time since you did that you’re afraid you’re not capable of it, but that’s just not true. In fact, one of the many benefits of being clean and sober in recovery is that you are able to not only feel, but also express, your emotions.

“I’ll be bored.” You probably use now because you’re bored. So trotting out the fear that you’ll be bored being clean and sober is a lame excuse. When you’re in recovery, you’ll be clear-headed enough to do the kinds of things you’ve always wanted to – whether that’s learning a new sport, making new friends, falling in love, getting a new job, studying for a degree, or pursuing any other new and exciting dream.

“I’m afraid I’ll lose my courage, my nerve.” It’s natural to wonder whether you’ll be able to complete treatment, especially if you don’t have any idea what it entails. The best solution is to find out about the kinds of treatment available to you and choose the one that best suits your needs. Research drug and alcohol treatment centers in your area, and be sure to ask questions so you’ll be able to find a treatment center that meets your needs. Check out the treatment facility finder on the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) at www.findtreatment.samhsa.gov/about.htm or call their referral center at (800) 662-HELP.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep.” Some people use alcohol or drugs to help them sleep, while for others, it gets or keeps them up at night. Part of alcohol and drug withdrawal does involve insomnia, but that is temporary. During treatment, you will be working on achieving balance in your physical and mental well-being through nutrition, exercise, counseling, and activities. Your ability to sleep through the night will be addressed along with your other fears, cravings, and physical or psychological symptoms.

“I won’t be sexy.” Sexiness really has nothing to do with drinking or doing drugs. You only fear that you’ll lose your sex appeal because you think that you’ll become inhibited and closed-off if you don’t drink or do drugs. Again, this is a total falsehood. Real sexiness comes from within, from who we are and how we display our real selves to others. That’s sex appeal. You should look forward to discovering the real you that you’ve buried deep inside—or never allowed to surface—and the only way to truly do that is by going through treatment and becoming clean and sober.

“I don’t want to feel the pain.” Whatever pain you may feel during detox or the cravings you’ll experience during treatment will be minimized by the attending professional staff. As for feeling the pain of discovery, of realization of how and why you got yourself into this addiction in the first place—well, that’s a necessary part of the process. You can’t get better if you don’t recognize and learn to overcome that which has kept you from being the self-actualized person you’re meant to be. Yes, the colors will be brighter, the sounds more intense, the presence of other human beings more apparent—and all of these are good things. Don’t look on the ability to feel as pain. It isn’t. Comfort yourself with the knowledge that whatever pain you will feel in treatment is only temporary. You will learn how to deal with painful situations as part of your overall treatment so that, in the future, pain won’t be a scary thing.

“My emotions will overwhelm me.” You’ve probably been closed off for so long that you’re understandably afraid to do, to see, to hear, and to fail. You look at treatment as this big, mysterious black hole that you’ll fall into and never come out of. Far from it. By entering treatment, you are liberating yourself from the shackles of alcohol and drugs—but only if you genuinely want to be clean and sober and commit to the process. During your individual counseling, and possibly during group sessions, your emotions may feel overwhelming. That’s because you need to cleanse and purge yourself of years of piled-up negative emotions, memories, and past bad behavior. This emotional cleansing is a necessary part of healing, just as detox is a physical elimination of toxic substances. Once you are in treatment, and then in recovery, you will learn how to effectively deal with your emotions—no matter what circumstances arise.

Bottom line: Don’t let your fears keep you from getting clean and sober. Ask for help and get yourself into treatment today.

“It’s just a wake up call for us that we need to pay attention and begin thinking about how we’re going to address this in society," said Dr. Peter Delany with the U.S. Public Health Service Studies.

Most commonly used among those surveyed marijuana and prescription medications. "This is really being driven by people who had used drugs earlier in life and had pretty much continued to use it," Delany said. Most said they began using drugs before the age of 30.

During that same five-year period, rates of illicit drug use among all other age groups remained the same or decreased, SAMHSA said. The continued use of illicit drugs by aging baby boomers "is likely to put further strains on the nation’s health care system," said Eric Broderick, the agency’s acting administrator, the Associated Press reported.

Illegal drug use later in life may pose additional health risks. "If someone has high blood pressure we know that using drugs can affect that and using many drugs will raise the blood pressure over time," said Delany.

Health officials hope for a cultural shift to abstinence among baby boomers who may spent have much their lives using.
 

The scientists who conducted the study reason that if excessive exercise is addicting, then maybe addicts could take moderate exercise instead of drugs to feel good. The findings also shed light on the potentially fatal eating disorder called anorexia athletica, in which exercise undertaken to shed pounds becomes as compulsive as taking drugs, resulting in even greater weight loss.

“Excessive running shares similarities with drug-taking behavior,” the researchers wrote. “As with food intake and other parts of life, moderation seems to be the key. Exercise, as long as it doesn’t interfere with other aspects of one’s life, is a good thing with respect to both physical and mental health,” said lead author Robin Kanarek, PhD, of Tufts University.

For several weeks, 44 male and 40 female rats were allowed to either run in exercise wheels or remain inactive. To simulate anorexia athletica, the researchers divided the active and inactive rats into groups whose members were either given food for one hour a day or around the clock. Rats in all four groups were then given naloxone, a medicine for heroin overdose that produces immediate withdrawal symptoms.

Active and inactive rats responded very differently to naloxone, which was given in proportion to their weight. The active rats showed withdrawal symptoms like those seen in narcotics addicts: trembling, writhing, teeth chattering, and drooping eyelids.

The active rats that had access to food for only one hour a day both ran the most and displayed the most severe withdrawal symptoms. Like people with anorexia athletica, they ran so much that they lost significant amounts of weight. Additionally, the more a given rat had run, the worse its withdrawal symptoms were after naloxone. In contrast, regardless of how much they ate, inactive rats responded very little to the drug.

Because of the way the active rats responded to naloxone, they seemed to have undergone the same changes in the brain’s reward system as rats that are addicted to drugs. “Exercise, like drugs of abuse, leads to the release of neurotransmitters such as endorphins and dopamine, which are involved with a sense of reward,” said Kanarek.

Insights into behaviors that trigger the release of the brain’s “reward” chemicals may lead to addiction treatments that incorporate moderate exercise, according to the researchers. The findings also suggest that active rats given limited food may make a good experimental model for studying and developing treatments for anorexia athletica, added Kanarek.