Addictive Quotes

Book collecting is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby. Those who do it must do it.

When you are an addict and you get caught, you always seem to be at your lowest point.

She wasn’t made to be alone.” “I guess none of us are.” Our eyes meet and an electric tingle runs through me. “She missed you,” I say in a whisper. “Did she?” His voice is a soft caress. His gaze into my eyes is so intense that I swear he sees straight into my soul. “Yes.” Warmth flushes my cheeks. I… “She thought about you all the time.” The candlelight flickers a soft glow along his jawline, along his lips. “I hated losing her.” His voice is a low growl. “I hadn’t realized just how attached I’d gotten.” He reaches and moves a strand of wet hair out of my face. “How dangerously addictive she could be.

I’ve watched Lo become sober. I’ve watched Lily curb a relentless addiction. (I’m proud of you, sis.) I’ve watched Rose blaze her own trail and put fire to stereotypes. I’ve watched Connor fall in love. With more than just himself. I’ve watched Ryke Meadows unclip his shackles and rise again. And me. I’ve discovered who I am.

Days will pass, and you’ll abandon things you were addicted to, and leave someone, and cancel a dream, and finally, accept a reality.

You’re never an ex-addict, you’re just an addict who hasn’t had a fix in a while.

You can’t love someone out of addiction. All the oceans are the tears of those who have tried

You can’t love someone out of addiction, all the oceans are the tears of those who have tried. We’re not allowed to die for our children, the universe won’t let us, because then there wouldn’t be any mothers left.

Anyone who’s married to an addict who shows no interest in doing anything about it needs to be prepared for the probability that sooner or later, the only hope of surviving intact is to get out.

Lauren and Alexis each had their own, and Ed and I shared one, which was great fun. He was smart and funny and a real professional, and we quickly discovered that we had a lot in common. We were both happily married, with homes on the East Coast. Not only did we both come from New York theater backgrounds, but I’d forgotten that we actually won Tony Awards on that same magical night in 1976—mine for Best Performance by a Featured Actress in a Musical in A Chorus Line, and his for Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Play called Mrs. Warren’s Profession. We were even mutually addicted to the New York Times crossword puzzles, which we did together every day we worked.

I mean, everyone is, but I am especially susceptible to its false rewards, you know? It’s designed to addict you, to prey on your insecurities and use them to make you stay. It exploits everybody’s loneliness and promises us community, approval, friendship. Honestly, in that sense, social media is a lot like the Church of Scientology. Or QAnon. Or Charles Manson. And then on top of that—weaponizing a person’s isolation—it convinces every user that she is a minor celebrity, forcing her to curate some sparkly and artificial sampling of her best experiences, demanding a nonstop social performance that has little in common with her inner life, intensifying her narcissism, multiplying her anxieties, narrowing her worldview. All while commodifying her, harvesting her data, and selling it to nefarious corporations so that they can peddle more shit that promises to make her prettier, smarter, more productive, more successful, more beloved. And throughout all this, you have to act stupefied by your own good luck. Everybody’s like, Words cannot express how fortunate I feel to have met this amazing group of people, blah blah blah. It makes me sick. Everybody influencing, everybody under the influence, everybody staring at their own godforsaken profile, searching for proof that they’re lovable. And then, once you’re nice and distracted by the hard work of tallying up your failures and comparing them to other people’s triumphs, that’s when the algorithmic predators of late capitalism can pounce, enticing you to partake in consumeristic, financially irresponsible forms of so-called self-care, which is really just advanced selfishness. Facials! Pedicures! Smoothie packs delivered to your door! And like, this is just the surface stuff. The stuff that oxidizes you, personally. But a thousand little obliterations add up, you know? The macro damage that results is even scarier. The hacking, the politically nefarious robots, opinion echo chambers, fearmongering, erosion of truth, etcetera, etcetera. And don’t get me started on the destruction of public discourse. I mean, that’s just my view. Obviously to each her own. But personally, I don’t need it. Any of it.” Blandine cracks her neck. “I’m corrupt enough.

Examples of Issues that EMDR can treat Anxiety and panic Depression Anger Dysfunctional attachment Embarrassment Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) Sleep problems, including nightmares and disrupted sleep Performance anxiety Driving issues Unresolved grief Eating disorders Chronic pain Phobias Addictions Childhood experiences, including bullying, insensitive adults, parental discord, death, and divorce Major traumas such as serious injuries or life threatening situations War trauma Abuse and assaults (sexual, physical, emotional) Emotionally charged experiences, including family arguments Work problems Stress Poor relationship choices Over-reacting to normal situations

Addiction is profoundly ordinary: a way of being with the pleasures and pains of life, and just one manifestation of the central human task of working with suffering. If addiction is part of humanity, then, it is not a problem to solve. We will not end addiction, but we must find ways of working with it: ways that are sometimes gentle, and sometimes vigorous, but never warlike, because it is futile to wage war on our own nature.⁠2

This is an important book for anyone experiencing this trauma, as well as those trying to support them,” said Angie Hamilton, Executive Director at Families for Addiction Recovery. “There is something remarkable about mothers who have lost a child who raise awareness and advocate so others will not face the same tragedy.

In this timely book, Irene generously provides readers with access to her emotional landscape as a mother supporting her eldest son through opioid addiction and ultimate death by fentanyl poisoning. Ohana is also a portrait of persistence, resilience, and the power of community. In it, we witness Reilly navigate the systems, organizations, and individuals that comprise the army fighting endlessly to resolve the opioid crisis and to support those affected by it.

Irene’s story reminds us that even in tragedy there is hope. While the overdose toll is often presented as just numbers, Irene shines a light into its darkest corners, offering unique insights earned from the tragedy of losing her son Roger, ‘somebody’s someone’, to addiction. Irene is unique and also one of the many who drive International Overdose Awareness Day in their local communities, helping others heal from loss and generously trying to end overdose for those of us with a living chance. We should care like we are all family; in Ohana, Irene shows us how.

The problem with classifying addiction as a disease or choice stunts recovery because it doesn’t take into account what the actual cause is.

Behavioral Allocation Disorder is simply a shift from seeing choice as a deliberate and evaluative process, and rather classifies addiction as a maladaptation of behavior.

The Community Reinforcement Approach (CRA) aims to create an environment where the community around you can notice behaviors that could lead to relapse and pick you up with rewarding your sobriety.

I am praying upon every star in the universe and galactic, habitable planets that my genius sister has a plan.