The Republic of T.

WARNING: Video depicting severe alcohol withdrawal below.

Well, maybe. The latest report is that there were no illegal substances in Amy Winehouse’s system when she died.

Toxicology tests have found that “no illegal substances” were in singer Amy Winehouse’s system at the time of her death last month, her family said Tuesday.

“Results indicate that alcohol was present but it cannot be determined as yet if it played a role in her death,” the family said in a written statement, citing test results provided to them by authorities.

The 27-year-old singer, beloved for her talent but infamous for erratic public behavior, arrests and drug problems, was found dead at her apartment in London on July 23.

Alcohol was present, but we don’t know yet if drink had anything to do with her death. No surprise, since there are plenty of reports that Amy was still drinking in her final days. Still, that leaves at least one theory about what killed Amy Winehouse, which remains viable even in the light of this recent news.

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Guess which answer I chose.

No, really. It’s a serious question. Serious enough to be studied.

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Answering the question, “Could rehab have saved Amy Winehouse?”, Patti Davis eloquently sums up what I tried to get across in two posts.

The truth is, overcoming an addiction is a solitary journey whether you drive through the gates of the best facility or sit in your room alone staring into the cavern in your soul you’ve tried so hard to run away from. Rehab can give you tools, but you walk the road alone. And as all of us who have made our way out of addiction will tell you, part of it was luck. There simply is no formula that can guarantee a way out, no trail of bread crumbs leading out of the forest. You grab onto something inside you, some part of you that has decided to live without the poisons you love so much, and you hope like hell you can hold on.

We still don’t know whether Winehouse took an overdose of drugs or a lethal combination or bad drugs (or none of the above), but her demons were visible for a long time. Those of us who have experienced the treacherous landscape of addiction and have lived to talk about it have known nights when we teetered on a dangerous boundary line. We held on and made it through. We got lucky. Others who tried just as hard couldn’t hold on — and faded to black.

She’s right.

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It seems like many people in Amy’s life who cared about her had also come to the realization that they couldn’t help her until she was ready to accept help. Again, Russell Brand put it better than anyone else.

When you love someone who suffers from the disease of addiction you await the phone call. There will be a phone call. The sincere hope is that the call will be from the addict themselves, telling you they’ve had enough, that they’re ready to stop, ready to try something new. Of course though, you fear the other call, the sad nocturnal chime from a friend or relative telling you it’s too late, she’s gone.

Frustratingly it’s not a call you can ever make it must be received. It is impossible to intervene.

Amy’s mother, seeing Amy for the last time just a day before her death, seemed to realize that her daughter’s death “only a matter of time.”

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As of today, I’ve been clean and sober for 19 years. Nineteen years. Six thousand nine hundred and thirty five days, one at a time.

I remembered last night, while watching Intervention.

It’s kind of amazing when I stop and think about it, as I did this morning while we were getting the kids ready to go this morning; Dylan to daycare and Parker to day camp. It put our usual morning routine into perspective, because today I’m living I life I’d never have had if I hadn’t gotten sober when I did. In fact, I might not have been here at all, and I’d have missed all of this.

Now, one of the things that keep me going is that I never want to do anything that would take me away from the people I love.

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Can someone explain to me why Charlie Sheen is on tour, instead of on medication? Come to think of it, why is he collecting speaker fees and possibly getting reality getting reality TV offers? Why is he going on an 20-city tour instead of going back to rehab?

OK. In one sense, I know the answer. (more…)

(Or, An Ounce of Treatment, Pt.2)

I don’ think this is what anyone meant by “Calgon, take me away.” (Ed. Note: I know the bath salts in question are in no way associated with Calgone bath beads or other products. It just seemed like a good line.)

When Neil Brown got high on bath salts, he took his skinning knife and slit his face and stomach repeatedly. Brown survived, but authorities say others haven’t been so lucky after snorting, injecting or smoking powders with such innocuous-sounding names as Ivory Snow, Red Dove and Vanilla Sky.

Law enforcement agents and poison control centers say the bath salts, with their complex chemical names, are an emerging menace in several U.S. states where authorities talk of banning their sale. Some say their effects can be as powerful as those of methamphetamine.

From the Deep South to California, emergency calls are being reported over exposure to the stimulants the powders often contain: mephedrone and methylenedioxypyrovalerone, also known as MDPV.

Sold under such names as Ivory Wave, Bliss, White Lightning and Hurricane Charlie, the chemicals can cause hallucinations, paranoia, a rapid heart rate and suicidal thoughts, authorities say. In addition to bath salts, the chemicals can be found in plant foods that are sold legally at convenience stores and on the Internet. However, they aren’t necessarily being used for the purposes on the label.

Still, I’m not sure that banning bath salts is the answer.

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I can’t remember why I suggested to Parker that he and I read the the Harry Potter books together. I’m sure it was in part because I wanted to continue to encourage in him a love of reading. That’s why Parker and I read together every night that it’s my turn with him at bedtime.

Being an avid reader myself, it’s something I want for both my sons — not just to be well-read, but to develop a love of reading for reading’s sake. In my life, I’ve found it makes learning a lot easier, but makes the world a bigger and more fascinating place, by extending learning throughout life.

Hell, the years I’ve spent since college could be considered a very long independent study program, based on what I’ve read. (Add what I’ve written about what I’ve read, and I’m convinced I could almost qualify for some kind of advanced degree.)

But that’s not the reason I recommended the Harry Potter books.

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To be more specific, what’s Rand Paul smoking these days?

His musings that America was a better, freer place when African Americans had no civil rights protection, and no one was looking out for the safety of American workers (at least no one who didn’t have one eye on the bottom line), were both amusing and disturbing. But his latest riff on unemployment — that helping the unemployed would increase drug use — is a shocker, even from him.

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According to the new app I downloaded to my iphone, today is the birthday of Bill W.

Second Lieut. Bill Wilson didn’t think twice when the first butler he had ever seen offered him a drink. The 22-year-old soldier didn’t think about how alcohol had destroyed his family. He didn’t think about the Yankee temperance movement of his childhood or his loving fiance Lois Burnham or his emerging talent for leadership. He didn’t think about anything at all. “I had found the elixir of life,” he wrote. Wilson’s last drink, 17 years later, when alcohol had destroyed his health and his career, precipitated an epiphany that would change his life and the lives of millions of other alcoholics. Incarcerated for the fourth time at Manhattan’s Towns Hospital in 1934, Wilson had a spiritual awakening — a flash of white light, a liberating awareness of God — that led to the founding of Alcoholics Anonymous and Wilson’s revolutionary 12-step program, the successful remedy for alcoholism. The 12 steps have also generated successful programs for eating disorders, gambling, narcotics, debting, sex addiction and people affected by others’ addictions. Aldous Huxley called him “the greatest social architect of our century.

It occurred to me, when I read the bio above, that back in July I somehow managed to reach 17 years of continuous sobriety. That I should read about Bill W. on Thanksgiving seems somehow appropriate, since my sobriety is one of the things I’m most thankful for. Without it, I most likely wouldn’t be here, and if I were I certainly wouldn’t have the life I have now or the family I have now. To some degree, I have Bill W. to thank for that — and just about every alcoholic who walked into an A.A. meeting and kept coming back often enough to keep it going long enough for someone like me to walk in the door.

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There are no second acts in American lives.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

It struck me as simultaneously ironic and poetic when, a few weeks ago, two of music biggest icons — each of whom in their own way represented the intoxicating excess that goes with a certain level of celebrity — went through transitions that were as similar as they were different. And within days of each other.

One, at least, no longer has to please his public — or seek its forgiveness. The other now faces the task of disproving the famous F. Scott Fitzgerald quote above.

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Hillary Clinton surprised me when she said, on a recent trip to Mexico, “Our insatiable demand for illegal drugs fuels the drug trade.” Strong words, and more intentionally honest than George W. Bush’s declaration, during a trip to Mexico in 2001, that, “One of the reasons why drugs are shipped, the main reason why drugs are shipped through Mexico to the United States, is because United States citizens use drugs.”

The difference is that Clinton couldn’t’ be more right and, of course, knows it. But if moment of clarity is followed by the same old enforcement-based approach to the drug problem, we will continue to fail at reducing our “insatiable demand.”

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I haven’t made a secret on this blog that I’m a recovering alcoholic. (In fact, last month I celebrated 16 years of sobriety.) So, I was intrigued when I found Kevin’s link to Addict’s Almanac — Tye Dowdy’s series of posts over at Street Roots. When I clicked through to the posts, I was glad I did.

Like Kevin, Dowdy’s experiences are very different from mine, but mostly on the surface. Reading it, I felt at first the familiar feeling I had in some of my first twelve step meetings, listening to people talk about the wreckage addiction had made of their lives.

As a 23-year-old whose drinking career had been relatively short, but who was fortunate enough to recognize a wake-up call when I got one, I couldn’t relate to the stories I sometimes hear about DUI arrests, lost jobs, lost marriages and relationships, lost health, lost fortunes, etc. I remember mentioning those feelings to my sponsor, who said to me, “Well, if you go back out and start drinking again, all that and more could be yours.”

Since then, I’ve always been drawn to the stories of other addicts, not just because I find them informative, but also because it’s a reminder that beyond the surface of age, location, economic class, drug of choice, etc., we’re pretty much the same underneath.

Dowdy’s piece should be required reading for anyone holding forth on the “drug war.” I could get into my thoughts about that, but that’s a much longer post.

For now, go read Addict’s Almanac.