In our fast-paced, consumerist world, everything – even a human being – is often judged by their perceived utility and ability to serve the needs of the collective. Those who dutifully participate in the relentless “rat race” are celebrated and rewarded, their worth validated by their output and success. But for the vulnerable and the weak, the story is all too different. When individuals succumb to the grip of addiction and hit rock bottom, instead of extending a hand to lift them up, society is all too quick to push them further down. This sadly is the mentality of conditional worth, where the very people who need our empathy the most are cast aside, their struggles dismissed as self-inflicted and unworthy of redemption. It is a cruel irony that in our world obsessed with usefulness and efficiency, the most human among us – the broken, the wounded, the afflicted – are so utterly dehumanized. In a world quick to judge and even quicker to discard, the story of addiction is often oversimplified and misunderstood. Society’s tendency to label and dismiss those struggling with addiction not only perpetuates stigma but also ignores the complex human stories behind each struggle.
Consider two seemingly disparate individuals: Dr. X, a highly respected doctor, and Shiva, my skilled gardener. On the surface, they appear to have nothing in common – one operates in sterile hospital corridors, the other tends to lush gardens. Yet, their paths converged in an unexpected way. Dr. X, burdened by the immense pressure of his profession and the relentless demands of academia, found herself turning to prescription drugs for relief. Meanwhile, Shiva, devastated by the societal disapproval following the birth of his second daughter in a culture that still favours sons, sought solace in alcohol. Before their addictions took hold, both were at the pinnacle of their respective fields. Patients would vie for appointments with Dr. X, while my neighbours would compete for Shiva’s time in their gardens. Their skills were unparalleled, their expertise invaluable. Yet, the moment their struggles with addiction came to light, society’s perception shifted dramatically. The very same individuals who once fought for their services now labelled them as “addicts,” dismissing their worth and past accomplishments; circumstances that led to their addictions were overlooked in favour of a simplistic narrative.
I found myself in this very predicament during a discussion on Shiva’s employment. As voices clamoured for his dismissal, I found myself defending him and urging for compassion rather than rejection. It was a stark reminder of how quickly society discards those it once valued at the first sign of human frailty. On another occasion, a visit to a rehabilitation centre further opened my eyes to the far-reaching impact of addiction. Posters on the walls proclaimed, “Addiction affects the whole family – and the whole family must recover.” Another stark message read, “You must choose your pain: the pain of addiction or the pain of recovery.” These simple yet profound statements underscored the complexity of the struggle and the collective effort required for healing these unfortunate people who we are quick to label as “addicts”.
Yet, as I reflected on these experiences, a realization dawned: aren’t we all, in some way, addicts? Our society is rife with socially acceptable addictions – from the seemingly innocuous dependence on morning coffee to the more insidious compulsions of online shopping, pornography, or “retail therapy.” Children grapple with video game addictions, while adults find themselves unable to disconnect from work emails. Even I recognize my own “addiction” to a perfectly manicured garden as a prerequisite for my reading pleasure. As philosopher Alain de Botton suggests, perhaps addiction at its core is our inability to sit with ourselves, our rush to embrace any distraction that saves us from self-reflection. From this perspective, we’re all on a spectrum, battling our own forms of dependency. This realization should breed empathy, not judgment. Instead of rushing to label and discard those struggling with more visible or stigmatized addictions, we must recognize the shared human experience of seeking comfort, escape, or validation through external means.
Robert Downey Jr., the heartthrob actor known for his role as Sherlock Holmes and a man who has very publicly battled and overcome addiction famously remarked “Remember that just because you hit bottom doesn’t mean you have to stay there”. This powerful statement encapsulates a profound truth: that even in the darkest moments of addiction, hope persists. For people in recovery, this quote is more than just words; it’s a lifeline. It acknowledges the reality of hitting bottom – a place many addicts know all too well.
“Us, and them And after all, we’re only ordinary men. Me, and you God only knows it’s not what we would choose to do.” The opening lines of the song “Us and Them” by Pink Floyd resonate deeply with the struggle of addiction and society’s perception of those affected. In essence, these lyrics speak to the heart of the matter: the person battling addiction is reminding us that they are, fundamentally, no different from anyone else – just an ordinary individual facing extraordinary challenges. The poignant message suggests that the divide between “us” and “them” is an illusion, that we are all vulnerable to life’s hardships. Most importantly, it conveys the anguish of addiction – that it’s not a path anyone would willingly choose. The story of addiction is not about “us” versus “them.” This perspective invites us to approach addiction with empathy rather than judgment, recognizing that those affected are not separate from us, but are our fellow human beings caught in a struggle they did not seek out. The journey of recovery – whether from substance abuse or any of life’s myriad dependencies – is not a solitary one. It requires the support of family, friends, and society at large. By shifting our perspective from judgment to understanding, from rejection to support, we create a world where recovery is not just possible but encouraged.
