COMMENT: On Addiction

We as a culture mourn the loss of celebrities of all shapes and sizes for a number of reasons. Sometimes we mourn because that human was one of great influence, someone who truly shook the world - someone like freedom fighter Nelson Mandela. Sometimes we mourn the loss of artists with transformative power, like Amy Winehouse, Kurt Cobain and so many others. And sometimes we do it out of pure obsession, stalking Princess Diana and Michael Jackson into their graves and beyond.

Today, I mourn along with many in my field, the passing of renowned actor Phillip Seymour Hoffman. But perhaps I mourn for different reasons. I did not know the man, and cannot claim any intimate affiliation with him or his legacy whatsoever, though he was one of the finest actors of his generation. What I mourn is not so much the loss of a friend, or that of an influential figure, but the loss of another soul to addiction.

What's at issue here is not Hoffman's persona, nor the cause of his untimely death. Much will be said about his alleged heroin overdose in the coming days and weeks, and much of it will be bunk. Blaming the substance itself for taking the life does nothing but create opportunities for conservatives and the fear-ridden, with horrific legal ramifications. It also doesn't help to change anyone's attitudes - the speedball that killed Belushi is still widely in use, as are the drugs found on the bodies of many a performer. Likewise, blaming the victim for “wasting their talent” is equally unhelpful.

We need to address the mental disorder - for that is exactly what it is - that led to Hoffman's passing, and takes so many promising young people from us every single day.

When it comes to the subject of addiction, I have referred experience - I lost my father and my cousin to their addictions, both within less than a year. One was a slave to the bottle, the other to the needle, though neither were killed directly by their substance of choice. Rather, the neverending health problems and psychological deterioration caused by addiction led to their passing. Both were fine men, generous, warm, good-humored and proud men who were devoted to their families; both were addicts.

My father's death actually had as much to do with the cocktail of prescription drugs he had been given for his many conditions as it did with alcohol. However, the vast majority of his problems found their root in addiction - post-traumatic stress disorder caused him to return to the bottle with greater need, and the drink set off a chain reaction which led to the dissolution of both our family and his mind. At the time of his death, he had been diagnosed with five separate mental disabilities, each related to and worsened by his addictive behaviour.

As for my cousin, I will simply say that he was too young and too beautiful to suffer the way he did, and no one deserves the life he lived - a life wholly at odds with his upbringing by two upstanding parents, and the love and support of his siblings and extended family.

That a man of Phillip Seymour Hoffman's stature and achievements could succumb to the same abuse should not be treated as a surprise, nor as a stigma. What he suffered from was a debilitating and hugely misunderstood psychological disorder. I spent so long blaming my father for what seemed to me his self-inflicted syndrome that I never stopped to think it might affect me, too, if I had that one drink too many; if I ever felt that pain of withdrawal and let that voice in my head convince me that I needed more.

What we should learn from this tragedy is that addiction can affect anyone. Perhaps, if Hoffman had lived in a country that treated drug addiction as an illness rather than an act of criminality, he may have found more accommodating forms of treatment that might have kept him sober. Perhaps if he lived in a society that didn't glamourise drugs in one breath and then condemn their users in the next, he wouldn't have suffered in silence. There are far too many hypotheticals to add to this paragraph, but all have the same bearing on the mythology of the down-and-out “junkie” on the street corner as they would have on that of a judge, a company CEO, or a prominent artist with the same condition.

Twenty years went by between the beginning of Hoffman's sobriety and the end of his life. Twenty years. The cost of ever facing addiction is unflinching diligence, as even the slightest slip can lead one straight back on the path to ruin. A dear friend of mine, who I will not name for professional reasons, is facing this same foe as we speak, and has (for now) beaten her opponent into submission. I've joked in the past about her taste for alcohol, and even offered her drinks before realising what I was doing, but the indomitable spirit she shows in continuing to face sobriety with a lifted chin fills me with pride and admiration. In this battle, she has my support. And if you believe that alcohol addiction and heroin addiction aren't in the same ballpark, then your attitude is only contributing to the problem.

It's time to start really deeply analyzing the way we look at substance abuse, legally and culturally. It's time we stopped blaming those who've taken a wrong turn on life's path and gotten lost in the dark. It's time we looked towards effective, community-based rehabilitation and diligence that extends to everyone who knows an addict rather than just the addict themselves. We need to shift the culture of blaming and shaming and start looking around us at the real horrors that subtance abuse inflicts on those around us everyday.

There are many organisations who do wonderful work with sufferers of addiction, especially groups like Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous. In the wake of today's news, should you be one who mourns the loss of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, I would thoroughly encourage making a donation or offering volunteer services to such an organisation.

We lost Kurt Cobain to addiction, despite Courtney Love's intervention. We lost Amy Winehouse to addiction, after she famously refused to be rehabilitated. We lose thousands every single day to addiction: now we have lost another influential performer, and I have lost family. All were too worthy, too dignified and far, far too young to suffer this fate.