The revolving door on these weeks seems to spin faster and faster, friends. Can you believe it’s already Friday again? And that we’re about to turn the corner into April? It’s dizzying. Makes me want to go scouring the dust bunnied luggage under my bed for stray Dramamine tabs that may not yet have expired.
Speaking of Dramamine, I’ve been pondering chemicals this week. Not just any chemicals. Biochemicals. The ones that are dispensed from the inner drugstore, otherwise known as the endocrine system. This has been top of mind because I found myself inadvertently visiting my inner pharmacist more than once this week, despite my having forsworn his help.
That’s right. Despite my most heartfelt, most earnest, most fervent attempts to remain conscious and embodied during pressurized, time-sensitive, performance-focused challenges, I found myself pulled along the well-trodden path to the inner pharmacy counter. My body, having for decades dealt with pressure-cooker challenges by way of spree shopping, has been trained to head there automatically when the going gets rough. And the higher the perceived stakes, the deeper the conditioned response to binge-shop like it were March 2020. Forget toilet paper and hand sanitizer though, just give me every last drop of available adrenalin and cortisol, please.
This strategy used to get me some pretty decent results, which is one reason why I used it for so long. I also did it because it felt like a good kind of bad. I felt nine feet tall and bullet-proof and ready to Hulk smash, because that’s what drugs like adrenalin and cortisol do. They yield superpowers like strength and speed and focus. And superpowers can be alluring to the point of addiction.
Now, although sometimes adrenalin addiction looks dramatic, like high-risk sports or bank-robbing while impersonating ex-presidents, more often it can look innocuous, familiar, and near-impossible to recognize. Like chronically cramming one’s schedule so full of activities and obligations that you can barely find time to pee, let alone read that novel you’ve renewed from the library 87 times. Or checking your phone for notifications at traffic stops.
Speaking of phones, that reminds me of another powerful inner drug, dopamine. Why are we constantly reaching for our devices and risking life and limb to use them while operating moving vehicles? Because we get a dopamine hit, and dopamine feels freaking fantastic.
Yeah. These endogenous substances feel pretty amazing alright. And they’re free, socially acceptable, and pretty much in constant, abundant supply. Besides, life can be so exasperatingly lifey. Hard. Unpleasant, demanding. Why not get by with a little help from my old friends? What’s the harm?
Well, for starters, adrenalin and cortisol are meant to be mobilized only in emergency situations. Say, jumping out of the path of a transit authority bus to avoid being flattened. Relying on them to get through our days usually comes at the expense of wellbeing, on all the levels. More importantly, these inner drugs separate us from ourselves, our bodies, and our loved ones. This disconnection lands us on a problematic continuum that feels anywhere from scratchy to excruciating.
And once the inner drugs have been administered, there’s no calling them back. They have to be metabolized, which takes a little bit of time and can leave one with a hangover no less real than a New Year’s day thumper.
My own experience with inner drugs this week reminded me of the bad old days, when aches and pains and upset stomachs were a way of life. This was, sadly, a normal state of being for a long, long time. And well below the level of my then-awareness. Nowadays, because I make an effort to remain in conscious contact with myself and to feel my somatic sensations and emotions, I catch it pretty quickly and suffer minimal consequences.
And what about you, friends? What’s going on for you around inner drugs? I hope you’re not in the rapid rewards club at your inner pharmacy. And/but if you are, no shame. It’s possible to choose differently (and, of course, simple but not easy). You can opt out at any time. Take a pair of scissors to that membership card. Reap the real rewards - the ones that come from accompanying yourself through your days, whatever they bring.
I love this dismount, so peaceful. So hard some days! But truly the only cure that works. Man, that Orham quote is so frocking good. I was cranky this morning and nothing would solve it. A Word doc of fiction popped up on my screen and I clicked at it, pecking at a few sentences. It was like a fireball sinking into a lake. Instant relief. Some days I hate this math but I guess it’s better than no lakes at all? ☄️
The dopamine from the phone is a hard one for me to let go of, but I am extremely proud of myself for managing to stop arguing with people on the internet. I would get so keyed up I'd be shaking, and my heart would race every time I got a notification because it *might be* from the person I was arguing with. It made me so irritable and sucked up all my attention and energy, and I hate that I spent so much time doing it. It always felt so important to win the argument and defend my point of view, or whatever person/group was initially being attacked, but it was never once productive (unless you count the cortisol 😅).