A Sad Way to Live

In one way or another, at work I often help take care of drug addicts. I used to feel bad for them, but over the years I have developed less and less sympathy for them. Not only do they ruin their own lives, but others as well. An addiction is a terrible thing, but these unfortunate people seem to want other people to find a magic cure to transform their lives or else they want to substitute one substance for another. They do not want to endure the pain of getting clean. Often I ask them if they have seen the movie "Ray," especially the great scene in there in which Ray kicked heroin cold turkey. It can be done, I tell them, if they want to do it.

But what do I really know. I have not walked in their shoes. Even though some addictions began from that one hit or pill when they did not say no to what they hoped would be good time or good feeling, or when they desperately desired to be accepted, others have had terrible lives from the start. They want to numb their awful feelings. Or else the drug lifestyle is all they have ever known and they fear life without it. I have not experienced the depths of their pain. I have to remember not to let my mind pass judgment on them.