How do we soothe ourselves when our bodies react to our mind? In discussing the relation to our bodies and minds, the concept of mindfulness comes up, and we think about our bodies reactions to anxiety, depression and distress. The pit in our stomachs, the sweating, the insomnia, the fast heart rate, forgetting to breathe, dissociating and everything in between. These questions and thoughts have permeated my mind since our class discussion on how each of us interpret our bodily reactions, and how we deal with this and work through it.
We often search for a solutions for bodily discomfort when our minds are the cause of the discomfort. ‘Healthy’ solutions are always at the forefront of the discussion when dealing mental discomfort. For anxiety, you could do deep breathing, or practice mindfulness. For depression, you could go to therapy or practice self-care (taking a warm bath, eating your favorite comfort food, lighting a candle). Some of these ‘healthy’ solutions are inaccessible. Some of us weren’t taught about these solutions.
So, what about those who search for a solution with a substance? Substances such as alcohol, nicotine, or marijuana are feasible and accessible solutions for some who struggle with their mental health. I am someone who has relied on marijuana and alcohol for self-soothing and for an escape. For me, I grew up never wanting to drink, or smoke despite the mental/physical distress and trauma I’ve endured. But at one point, life took me in the direction to try marijuana for the first time–to drink for the first time. I remember the first times I smoked marijuana. I felt free. It felt like my soul and mind, were detached from my body–in an ethereal way, I felt my third eye open. I felt like I could analyze my life in a better way–to think myself through my depression, my trauma, and my anxiety. I relied on that feeling for so long. The feeling of mental escapism. To no longer associate my mental distress with physical distress. To give my physical body a break from the reaction it would have to my mind when trying to process my feelings.
There are multiple people in my life that have leaned towards a substance for relief and coping. For some, it turned into an addiction and for others, they manage it well and maintain healthy lifestyles and behaviors. For me I can view using a substance as a tool to numb, at least for myself; To shut your brain off for however long the high or buzz will last. Our body relaxes, and your brain just stops for a moment. For that moment or short period of time, you can finally slow down, be happy, laugh a little, escape from our daily lives, maybe process your emotions differently. But what are the costs of relying on this too often? Or relying on solely on substances? Do we really think about what our physical bodies are going through when we constantly reach for that whiskey, or when we need that toke before we go into work, go to the store, or go to class?
Yes, we know the physical implications of smoking or drinking too much–shortness of breath, high blood pressure, liver and kidney problems, cancer, etc. We’ve seen the Truth commercials on Nickelodeon, MTV, and The Cartoon Network since we were kids. We have been to countless school presentations in the auditorium with an anti-drug activist hammering the idea that drugs are bad into our minds, instilling fear in us as children: Showing us pictures of what will happen to our lungs, our teeth, and skin. The anti-drug campaigns, like D.A.R.E., that have statistically made people do more drugs were present in many social institutions. We grew up in an era that was obsessed with the “War on Drugs.” But we never cared what drugs could do to our physical bodies–there are still people who have grown up to be dependent on a substance to escape and cope.
So why do we do this…Is it because it’s easy? We don’t have to pay a therapist to sit in a room and divulge all of our trauma to a stranger. When using, do we think about how our physical bodies are coping with the substance in the same way our minds do?
Why don’t we care about the probable damage we do to our bodies? Do we view our bodies as only a vessel or less important than our minds? That…we will risk our physical health for our mental health, even if the relief doesn’t last long?
I think we all want to escape. Some escape more than others. But within that escape, some of us lose ourselves and end up abusing our bodies in the process.
Disclaimer: I write this not to shame or pathologize those who use substances to escape, cope or heal–but to ask ourselves to reflect on why we choose these solutions, and create a deeper conversation. I say this in solidarity with anyone who is struggling because I struggle too, and it’s okay. Most importantly, not everyone has a substance abuse issue; One can use a substance without it becoming a disorder.
Unruly Bodies 
This was an interesting read. It made me think about how I perceive certain people’s drug use and how I sometimes just associate it with part of their personality. With acquaintances that frequently use drugs, I just think “Oh, that’s how they like to live their life” but when it’s a family member I think “Are you ok? Is there something going on that you’re trying to cope with?”
The question: Why don’t we care about the probable damage we do to our bodies?
I think it’s because we assume a conventionally attractive body is a healthy one. And the mindset of “well it’s just one ___, what’s the harm?”. I’m guilty of thinking this way too.
First of all thank you for opening up about something very deep and personal. I like it when people are transparent about these types of things. I can relate in every way. I started showing symptoms of OCD and GAD around 10 years old. Back then I just I had to deal with the constant terror and fear. But as I’ve gotten older and more exhausted I don’t feel like just going through the mental exhaustion anymore. I will say food is my number one coping mechanism. I want a big pizza or a big greasy meal when I’ve had a bad mental health day and because of my emotional eating I have gained a lot of weight. When I could start drinking I started to use that as a coping mechanism too. When I’m drunk I don’t feel anxious. I don’t worry about anything or anyone. I feel like a new person. I wish I could be that person all the time. I could easily slip into alcoholism to be truthful. But my anxiety actually holds me back so that’s good in a sense. I want to find healthier coping mechanisms but it seems like overeating or drinking is just so easy and accessible.
Thank you for asking these questions to begin us thinking more critically about why we use drugs. Your post, especially its reference to the “War on Drugs”, made me think also about why we have the notions we do about people who use drugs. We can see pretty clear evidence of how the “War on Drugs” was part of an anti-Black carceral project, and we can point to the prison population booms from the ’80s-’00s as evidence. We can also see how this criminalization of people by the state has transformed public consciousness and created stigmas, which I think your post made really clear!
I also think the carceral logics of this “war” are now found so often in society’s supposedly non-carceral responses to drug use, especially in healthcare and mental health treatment. As your post alluded to, we may assume that people who use drugs chaotically are trying to escape or mask an underlying cause, or we label it “unhealthy coping.” I think a lot about how this language further stigmatizes those who may use drugs for survival, including for survival work, and how it creates another binary between healthy vs. unhealthy. I am finding more and more that the harm done by this latter binary is insidious. The language of health seems like it’s being used more and more frequently for oppressive ends.
I appreciate the ways that your post brought this to mind. It definitely challenged me to think about my own experiences using drugs and some of these larger implications!
I really appreciate that you brought up the perpetuation of carceral strategies in response to drug use in healthcare and mental health/ recovery programs. It really highlights racial and class division– who is able to access what kinds of treatment options? Who is afforded/ denied autonomy in choosing whether or not to participate in such a program? For whom does a certain degree of substance use count as a problem as opposed to a personal characteristic? Who is allowed to decide what constitutes a problem? Is it the person using the substances or someone else?