Ecstasy

Ecstasy [ek-stuh-see]

noun

1. rapturous delight.

2. an overpowering emotion or exaltation; a state of sudden, intense feeling.

3. mental transport or rapture from the contemplation of divine things.

synonyms

elation, euphoria, rapture, joyfulness, delight, delirium, enchantment, enthusiasm, intoxication

Who wouldn’t want to experience those feelings? Naturally…or chemically?

Because there’s a world out there in which ecstasy has another meaning. Ecstasy is one of the street names for methylenedioxymethamphetamine, also known as X, MDMA, Molly, or “The Love Drug.” It’s an “empathogen-entactogenic drug with stimulant and minor psychedelic properties.” (Wikipedia)

I heard a guy in a twelve step meeting tell his story recently. He told us that when he was hitting his bottom, he came out of a blackout (in jail) and said “the last thing I remember was snorting Ecstasy with a hooker named Molly. Or maybe I was snorting Molly with a hooker named Ecstasy???”

Like many other psychoactive substances, ecstasy can bring on temporary feelings of extreme well-being, elation, euphoria and rapture. The key word here, however, is temporary. As the drug wears off those feelings are replaced by insecurity, sadness, regret, fear and even paranoia. And after a few of those “comedowns” it tends to take increasingly higher doses of the drug to achieve the same levels of intoxication as the time before.

About a year before I got sober I attended a college reunion weekend on the island of Nantucket. The host (or someone, anyway) provided limitless doses of ecstasy for anyone who chose to partake. And, without reservation, I partook.

I wish I could tell you it sucked. Or at least that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

But it was.

It was an exaggerated version of the way I felt when I had my first drink. I was happy and uninhibited. I was smarter, funnier and prettier. I loved everyone…and everyone loved me. I felt invincible.

I also seemed immune to the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol I was consuming. Therefore, the next day I not only felt those feelings brought on by the withdrawal, but I suffered a hangover that was more crippling than usual. I dragged myself through a mid-day brunch, medicated myself with food and some more alcohol, and bid farewell to the people who seemed so fabulous the night before as they struggled through their own hangovers and departure challenges. A queasy ferry ride and a long drive back through New England left me exhausted and cranky. Monday morning came way too soon and that feeling of euphoria was a distant memory.

It was years before I saw those college friends again…at another reunion last month. I prepared myself for the strong possibility that there would be a lot of drinking and maybe some drugging, but I’ve got a lot of time under my belt now and those situations don’t trigger me the way they did in early sobriety.

There were a couple of people there who know I don’t drink, but not many. And there were quite a few “wow, I haven’t seen you since Nantucket” conversations. Obviously, the “me” they saw then was a little different, but how different…really?

Most conversations eventually came around to the “what are you doing now?” question. When I tell someone that I work as a recovery coach it often follows that I’m in recovery myself. Essentially, I “broke my anonymity” multiple times and the reactions were varied but universally positive. Not because I was such a mess back then, but because at this point in our lives everyone has been touched by addiction…their own or someone else’s.

Three of the friends I was with are sober now themselves, several more have children who struggle with the disease, and a few more have lost people they love to alcohol or drugs.

All that said, there was a lot of drinking over the weekend. And a little (now legal!) recreational drug use. But I certainly didn’t witness any abuse. And I stayed up late both nights with the rest of the “hard core party people.” I have the pictures to prove it.

I took my “real” camera to the reunion. When I first got sober I started taking my camera with me to events. It gave me something to do with my hands and it was a good way to extricate myself from awkward conversations. Now I’m perfectly comfortable without a drink in my hand and I rarely want an excuse to leave a conversation. But my camera gives me a way to observe (and capture) people and conversations and moments of engagement that I might otherwise miss. I’m also a little more aware of how much other people drink…or in many cases don’t drink.

It’s hard for me to recognize sometimes that not everyone drinks to get drunk. That not everyone has hangovers or blackouts or consequences. Some people in recovery are triggered by being around people who are drunk. Understandably. But I’m more triggered by people who are drinking moderately…because that voice inside my head starts whispering to me that I can do it too.

Fortunately that voice was pretty quiet last weekend, maybe because I was having so much fun. I talked and laughed and sang and danced and had this feeling that I loved everyone so much.

Flashback to my one night doing ecstasy. I talked and laughed and sang and danced…

And I had that same feeling…that I loved everyone so much. But back then I needed alcohol and drugs to access that feeling.

And now I don’t.

And that, I think, is ecstasy.