This is not an out and out book review. It’s more a personal review of how a book affected me.

I didn’t want to read it. I did want to read it. It was agony. It was hopeful. And then back to despair. But it finally defined the meaning of addiction as a disease. I’ve struggled with this definition for years. It can’t be summed up in a sentence. It took an entire book. I struggled through the book, yet I could not put it down.

I wanted the author to stop. Stop torturing me. He went on and on and on and on about his son's agonizing drug addition, particularly to meth. But that’s the point. I could’ve abandoned it. I know addiction is a lifelong fight. Why was I holding out for the fairy tale ending? The book kept seducing me to come back and finish it.

I watched an aunt I adored slowly kill herself with alcohol. The history of alcohol abuse runs deep in both sides of my family and even in the arteries of my in-law’s family. That is not a comforting thought but a reason to pay attention and to talk. My youngest, 13, a kinesthetic child if there ever was one could tell it was difficult for me to read this book. He asked questions. He listened. He gave me hugs. I tell you what. If you are reading this and anyone ever offers you crystal meth, walk away. It will be the beginning of a very long ending.

I have come to understand that the true addiction, complete with withdrawals and relapses is genetic. It really is a disease. They take that first pain pill, that first drink, that first drug and that’s it for them. It trips that switch and creates a path in the brain that wants more no matter how self destructive it is, how painful it is how ultimately miserable it becomes. I can’t even begin to answer the question as to why there are beings among us like this. But then people get cancer and heart trouble. Children are victims of land mines and guerilla warfare. That idea is too big to wrap my head around.

I’ve endured and survived so many life threatening near death experiences and 911 emergencies, I can’t even begin to list them here. Yet I feel I was spared the ultimate hell of addiction. I feel very lucky although I’ve suffered through the addictions and abuses of others. It’s always been particularly difficult for me to even understand addiction because I have never been remotely tempted to experiment with drugs. Ever. It’s like I was granted some special pass. When I was a teen and friends wanted to smoke pot, I went and found other friends. I would not bow to peer pressure no matter how difficult it was.

This book was cathartic for me. And I have to admit I am one who often avoids “Oprah” books. I want an escape that isn’t dreary and depressing, I’m looking for upbeat and adventure.

But I’m glad I read it. I’m also glad I’m done. I think a non fiction frivolous book of seduction and mayhem might be in order.