“Trainspotting”, A Humorous Look At Heroin Addiction That’s Really Never Humorous

Recently I watched the movie “Trainspotting” (1996) for the first time along with a few friends of mine who’d already seen it. It’s mainly a film about heroin users that on some level seemed to occasionally take a humorous look at an addiction that’s really never humorous.

“Trainspotting” centers around the lives of Renton (Ewan McGregor), Spud (Ewen Bremner), and Sick Boy (Jonny Lee Miller) and the Edinburgh drug scene they are deeply immersed in. The movie focuses on all the highs and lows that a heroin junkie tends to go through including the crimes it takes to support their habit, the losses that stack up while engaging in their habit, and the hell that one goes through in any attempts to kick their habit.

What I struggled the most with this movie is the way the heroin addiction was portrayed, as many of the sequences that were involved were shot in such a way that it made the viewer laugh at the antics a heroin addict might go through. But in the world I live in, there’s nothing funny at all about heroin addiction. Every year the rate of heroin users continues to increase along with its rate of deaths. 13,000 people actually died in 2015 from this drug and I have personally watched countless lives throughout the rooms of recovery be destroyed by this disease.

Thus, watching Renton in this film fully crawl into a disgustingly dirty toilet that he just defecated into to retrieve two pills didn’t make me laugh one bit. Or watching Spud lose his bowels in a bed he slept in because he was so messed up and then seeing them eventually be sprayed all over everyone the next morning when the family grabbed the sheets out of his hand that he personally wanted to wash, didn’t make me laugh either. There were plenty of other scenes throughout the film as well where I noticed my friends were laughing, but I just couldn’t.

Because in my world where I’ve seen four sponsees, all under the age of 40, die from heroin overdoses, or where I’ve seen my actual friends steal, go to jail, hurt, maim, and attempt to kill all for this drug, made it kind of hard to watch a film that makes more light of an addiction that ultimately is extremely dark.

There was one scene in the movie though that I feel accurately depicted this disease at its worst and it involved a baby that was being brought up in an apartment where all these junkies hung out. It crawled around innocently, playing, and laughing as the mother thrusted one needle after another in her arm day after day. But one day, after an extended period of using, the woman discovers her baby dead in its crib, looking blue, malnourished and very diseased. As she screams and cries, Renton decides he needs to shoot up to deal with it, which she agrees is necessary as well. Soon, she’s high, her screaming is over, and she appears to care less about the loss. I shudder as I still picture these movie scenes in my head, because it’s scenes like them that happen far too often in the real world with heroin users. It reminds me of that family that shot up heroin in their car last summer, both passing out and overdosing while their baby sat in the backseat.

None of this is funny! Heroin addiction is never funny! It’s deadly and it’s taking the lives of many beautiful souls more than any other drug out there right now! People don’t come into the rooms of recovery and laugh about their heroin addiction, most in fact are usually crying because they’ve lost so much. Personally, I’d prefer to watch a film that has a more realistic approach to heroin addiction, that correctly shows the disease at its worst and never with humor. “Requiem For A Dream” was a great example of that.

Nevertheless, while director Danny Boyle does a good job highlighting some of the craziness that a heroin user goes through in his movie “Trainspotting”, I was left rather disappointed because I felt the film could mislead some who see it into believing that heroin is not as deadly as it truly is.

Heroin addiction is nothing to laugh about. It’s a serious problem in our country right now and I actually live in a state that leads the nation currently in overdose deaths. That’s not funny and never will be, so hopefully films that come out in the future about this disease will focus only on the bleak outlook that comes with it. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll also focus on the hope that does exist out there for a heroin user, that being the 12 Step rooms of recovery.

So, overall, while “Trainspotting” was a good cinematic movie in that it was original in its own design, its biggest flaw was in showing humor with an addiction that truly is never humorous at all…

Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson

Question To Ponder For The Day

The definition of an amends is to make up for a wrongdoing. What is one amends you made recently, no matter how small or simple it was? (Quick Example: You yelled at a server at a restaurant because you were in a bad mood and then asked them to forgive you before you left.)

Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson

Dear Barbara

I once knew a woman named Barbara from Massachusetts who was a pretty amazing person on so many levels. She was dedicated as a friend, giving as an individual, and truly opened in heart, yet because of my former sex and love addiction, I lost all that. Today’s entry is both an amends to her and a dedication to the memory I have of a woman who never deserved to be hurt by a disease that once caused me to lose so much, including the unconditional love from people just like her.

Just before I first made the acquaintance of Barbara, I was already quite deep into my sex and love addiction and had actually begun to re-enter the closet again, claiming I was more bi-sexual than gay. The only reason why this was happening was for the simple fact I was chasing after a married guy who wasn’t fully comfortable with a gay person. In my sick addiction-based thinking, I ultimately thought he’d be more comfortable with me and want to spend longer periods of time together if I moved more towards the heterosexual side of the spectrum. As crazy as that thinking was, it felt totally rational to me at the time, yet it wasn’t true, even though I convinced myself it was.

Enter Barbara, a person I initially met at my gym where she worked as a swim coach for young children. She was funny, enjoyable to talk with, and very kind from the onset. I really liked her energy and thought we could actually make pretty good friends. As time went on, I started to get to know her whenever I was in the pool doing my swim workouts and saw the friendship beginning to blossom. But then one day the married guy who I was chasing after told me I should ask her out and mentioned something about us possibly double dating if I did. That was all I needed to hear. It was then no longer about Barbara being the beautiful soul she was and the nice friendship we were developing. Instead, it became more about my addiction. That’s when I began to pursue Barbara in a different way, one that wasn’t true to my own soul, one that was an outright lie and completely deceptive, one that had a hidden agenda and an angle attached, and one that she never deserved to experience, yet sadly, she did.

Over the course of many months, I gave Barbara false hope, flirting with her, saying things to string her along, all for the purpose of drawing myself closer to the object of my disease…that being the married guy. And the more I did this, the more I began to see her fill up with joy each time we got together. My soul kept telling me I needed to stop the behavior and be true to both her and myself, yet my disease continued to win out and press on.

We started going out on dates, which for her were feeling more in the romantic sense, yet for me, I felt something else, disgust, with myself, except I couldn’t stop because my disease didn’t want me to. So, in my outright denial of my own soul’s wishes, I proceeded to keep doing things with her that resembled more of what a couple might do than friends. Along the way, I soon got to know her son pretty well too, watching as he began looking up to me like a big brother and a father, both of which were notably absent from his life.

Deep down, I truly cared about Barbara and her son, but unfortunately, for a person in an active sex and love addiction, the truest of feelings are usually not the ones that win out and guide the connections with others…the deceptive ones do. But like all deceptions, God usually sees a way for them to show their ugly faces, and I’m glad in this case they did. Barbara eventually learned that our connection was a total sham.

When she finally discovered this, I tried my best one evening to go over to her house to explain how sorry I was and how I still cared about her as a friend. It was too late though, the damage I had done was too great. She yelled through her front door to leave her property and as I stood there hoping she’d give in, which was still more about my selfishness than anything, she said she was going to call the police if I didn’t go. I immediately left after that, never to hear from her again.

Ironically, not too long after that, my connection with that married man also ended and that’s when I chose to enter recovery for my sex and love addiction, on April 23rd, 2012. I’m still sober to this day and am grateful for that, yet it still pains me to write about things like this, but it’s something that’s important to do so that I may continue recovering from a terrible disease that once destroyed much of my life.

So, dear Barbara, you never deserved any of what my presence brought you and I know I hurt you more times than I can count. I’ve had to live with that ever since and my heart has grieved, even all these years later. My disease broke many good hearts and souls just like you and I live with pain every day, grieving the losses of so many God-blessed people including you. You were a friend when I needed one, a person I could talk to about anything, and someone who understood my insecurities and cared about me anyway. Sadly, this diseased caused me to lose all that just over five years ago.

But, I have prayed Barbara on many a morning over the years since then, for your happiness and that one day you’d forgive me. And I have hope that my words here may somehow bring you some much needed comfort. I know I cannot change my past but I’m doing everything I can to rectify all the damage I caused from an addiction that tore apart so many lives, including yours.

I’m truly sorry for all the pain, hardship, and anguish I caused you Barbara, for all the letdown I brought to both you and your son, and for all my words and actions that weren’t in alignment with God’s divine will for me. I was sick, and am doing everything I can to be well today, and hope in some slight way, that this entry may bring you the peace and closure you ultimately deserve.

I will always remember you Barbara for the smile and light you brought me, each and every day I saw you, and pray that God is blessing your life now with richness and abundance, something I know you are more than worthy and deserving of…and always were…

Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson