As an update to Mouse Wars, Part 1...
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| I might write it a eulogy. |
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
What (Really) Killed Amy Winehouse?
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| Amy Winehouse with ex-husband Blake Fielder-Civil |
No doubt that Amy's addiction issues caused pain to the people around her. Her father had even written a eulogy for her, preparing himself for the early death of his daughter. The Facebook commentary echos the same sentiment: No big surprise.
The thing is, Amy did go to rehab. Several times. It didn't work. In fact, for every rehab success story one can find numerous failures.
The success rate of addiction rehabilitation programs is questionable at best. Depending on which study you read, you'll find success rates anywhere between 5% and 30%.
Moral of the story? Rehabilitation programs don't work for the majority of people who enter them.
Why? Well, an article by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA) entitled "The Past and Future of Research on Treatment of Alcohol Dependence" sheds some light on the issue. According to the article, up to 75% of alcohol dependent people recover on their own. With no help from any recovery program. Furthermore, it seems that any treatment program, regardless of its approach, succeeds as often as any other - which is to say, not often.
Take those two facts and smash 'em together. It seems that the addict's desire to quit is the single most important motivator in their success. That's a far cry from the statements you will hear at a typical Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, where the first of twelve steps is to "admit that you are powerless" over your addiction. If addicts are truly powerless over their addictions, how is research telling us otherwise?
The NIAAA article bemoans the treatment industry's lack of interest in the scientific research findings:
"For the most part, the scientific advances of the last 40 years have not been well embraced by treatment providers...The model on which most currently available treatment relies was developed about 50 years ago, when scientific understanding of substance use disorders was rudimentary..."
Why? Well, an article by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA) entitled "The Past and Future of Research on Treatment of Alcohol Dependence" sheds some light on the issue. According to the article, up to 75% of alcohol dependent people recover on their own. With no help from any recovery program. Furthermore, it seems that any treatment program, regardless of its approach, succeeds as often as any other - which is to say, not often.
Take those two facts and smash 'em together. It seems that the addict's desire to quit is the single most important motivator in their success. That's a far cry from the statements you will hear at a typical Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, where the first of twelve steps is to "admit that you are powerless" over your addiction. If addicts are truly powerless over their addictions, how is research telling us otherwise?
The NIAAA article bemoans the treatment industry's lack of interest in the scientific research findings:
"For the most part, the scientific advances of the last 40 years have not been well embraced by treatment providers...The model on which most currently available treatment relies was developed about 50 years ago, when scientific understanding of substance use disorders was rudimentary..."
Now, this article was written in the US. Amy Winehouse was treated in London. But I bet the story is about the same.
Where does that leave the addict? From what I can tell, it leaves them alone. Scary as that might seem, it is empowering to find that a person's decision to quit can be so powerful. The unfortunate truth about many addicts is that they just aren't ready to quit. The majority who enter treatment programs do so at the urging of relatives and friends, not for themselves. Unfortunately, those who are not committed to quitting are likely to fail.
My opinion: Alcohol and drug treatment programs are not developed for the benefit of the addict, but to provide a false sense of control to the friends and family of the addict, who are likely to shell out thousands of dollars for their loved one's recovery. Call me a bitch for saying that. It might be true.
So, back to my topic.
What (Really) Killed Amy Winehouse?
Like many things in life, there is no easy answer to why people drink themselves to death. In the case of Amy Winehouse, however, I found a few interesting facts about women who drink that seem to resonate well with her story:
1. Alcoholic women are more likely to die from their addiction than alcoholic men.
2. Young women (say, age 27) are more likely to drink than older women.
3. Women who have never married, are living with an unmarried partner, or who are separated or divorced are more prone to heavy drinking.
Where does that leave the addict? From what I can tell, it leaves them alone. Scary as that might seem, it is empowering to find that a person's decision to quit can be so powerful. The unfortunate truth about many addicts is that they just aren't ready to quit. The majority who enter treatment programs do so at the urging of relatives and friends, not for themselves. Unfortunately, those who are not committed to quitting are likely to fail.
My opinion: Alcohol and drug treatment programs are not developed for the benefit of the addict, but to provide a false sense of control to the friends and family of the addict, who are likely to shell out thousands of dollars for their loved one's recovery. Call me a bitch for saying that. It might be true.
So, back to my topic.
What (Really) Killed Amy Winehouse?
Like many things in life, there is no easy answer to why people drink themselves to death. In the case of Amy Winehouse, however, I found a few interesting facts about women who drink that seem to resonate well with her story:
1. Alcoholic women are more likely to die from their addiction than alcoholic men.
2. Young women (say, age 27) are more likely to drink than older women.
3. Women who have never married, are living with an unmarried partner, or who are separated or divorced are more prone to heavy drinking.
Add 1+2+3. A young single woman going through the ups and downs of relationship woes is more likely to drink herself to death.
For those of us who have ever gone through an especially shitty break-up, the last statement should be no shocker. Relationship trouble is probably the hardest thing in life to cope with. As I stated in the post, "Why Single People Are so Crazy", staying single into our late 20's subjects us to so much more bullshit than staying in the same relationship for years on end. Relationship problems and a foggy sense of self will dig a girl an early grave.
Basically, Amy Winehouse died yesterday morning because she never learned how to deal with the pain that life (and love) brings. Rehabilitation programs didn't teach her, so she resorted to the only thing that made it better. Unfortunately, that "thing" had become an addiction stronger than her.
I suspect there are a plethora of women out there who will struggle with the same problems. For all her wrongdoings, this talented young woman paid the ultimate price.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Mouse Wars, Part 1
So, since about 2 months ago, I've had this mouse problem. It started with just one mouse. I thought it was cute, so I didn't tell my landlord about it right away. Instead, I just chased it into the apartment downstairs hoping that it would wander into one of the traps my neighbors were surely setting for it.
Turns out, they thought it was cute, too.
So, now we all share the mouse. It's become pretty routine this time o' night to see a tiny brown shadow skitter across the living room floor. I always look just in time to catch a glimpse of our wild pet's intrusive and reckless cuteness. Then the mouse is gone.
Tonight, our worst fears were confirmed. This little brown shadow was smaller and slower than the rest: a baby.
So, we now have multiple mice.
Now, it's not as if I've done nothing here. I did eventually call my landlord to tell him that we would need to set traps throughout the whole building before this turned into a serious problem. He came over with his two lanky handy men, and they set traps all over my kitchen.
Of course, since then, I've refused to go searching for any of them, for fear of what I might find: squished and bloody cuteness, contorted from the helpless struggle for life as the strength was slowly drained from its tiny furry body.
I don't have the coping skills for that sort of trauma.
When I saw the baby mouse, I knew I should try to shoo it toward the traps that I know are set. But instead, I went into immediate cute-hunting mode.
I sprang into action, chasing the mouse all over my tiny two-room apartment, and away from the villainous traps under the fridge. Twice, I nearly cornered it, which left me befuddled.
What if I did corner it? What exactly was I going to do when that happened?
I realized that my primitive cute-seeking brain had wanted to capture the thing with my bare hands. Having nearly succeeded, another primitive piece of my brain yelled, "What are you thinking? Animals are dirty rabid creatures that will stop at nothing to destroy human life!"
Trapped in the confusion of the battle between these two impulses, I finally grabbed a Mason jar.
A jar? And then what?
I didn't know. All that mattered was that I catch this cute thing.
Alas, it escaped my evil clutches. It disappeared underneath a stack of shelves I keep at the front door. Pulling the shelves away, I found the tiny hole in the wall where it must have found refuge. It was then that my logical brain finally kicked in, telling me that this was where I should set a trap.
I mourned the implications of this realization. Now, I have to kill the mouse! I've pulled a (luckily empty) trap from the kitchen, and placed it in front of my mouse's house. Meanwhile, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my mouse is too smart to get caught in it.
Wish him luck. :)
Turns out, they thought it was cute, too.
So, now we all share the mouse. It's become pretty routine this time o' night to see a tiny brown shadow skitter across the living room floor. I always look just in time to catch a glimpse of our wild pet's intrusive and reckless cuteness. Then the mouse is gone.
Tonight, our worst fears were confirmed. This little brown shadow was smaller and slower than the rest: a baby.
So, we now have multiple mice.
Now, it's not as if I've done nothing here. I did eventually call my landlord to tell him that we would need to set traps throughout the whole building before this turned into a serious problem. He came over with his two lanky handy men, and they set traps all over my kitchen.
Of course, since then, I've refused to go searching for any of them, for fear of what I might find: squished and bloody cuteness, contorted from the helpless struggle for life as the strength was slowly drained from its tiny furry body.
I don't have the coping skills for that sort of trauma.
When I saw the baby mouse, I knew I should try to shoo it toward the traps that I know are set. But instead, I went into immediate cute-hunting mode.
I sprang into action, chasing the mouse all over my tiny two-room apartment, and away from the villainous traps under the fridge. Twice, I nearly cornered it, which left me befuddled.
What if I did corner it? What exactly was I going to do when that happened?
I realized that my primitive cute-seeking brain had wanted to capture the thing with my bare hands. Having nearly succeeded, another primitive piece of my brain yelled, "What are you thinking? Animals are dirty rabid creatures that will stop at nothing to destroy human life!"
Trapped in the confusion of the battle between these two impulses, I finally grabbed a Mason jar.
A jar? And then what?
I didn't know. All that mattered was that I catch this cute thing.
Alas, it escaped my evil clutches. It disappeared underneath a stack of shelves I keep at the front door. Pulling the shelves away, I found the tiny hole in the wall where it must have found refuge. It was then that my logical brain finally kicked in, telling me that this was where I should set a trap.
I mourned the implications of this realization. Now, I have to kill the mouse! I've pulled a (luckily empty) trap from the kitchen, and placed it in front of my mouse's house. Meanwhile, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my mouse is too smart to get caught in it.
Wish him luck. :)
DISCLAIMER: The title of this post is in no way intended to imply that there will be a Part 2. There may, however, be a Part 3. Get out of the way.
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