Never Enough: The Neuroscience and Experience of Addiction

by Judith Grisel

The dam was finally breached during a visit with my father. I was surprised when he offered to take me to dinner for my twenty-third birthday, because we hadn’t spoken in years. Family ties are deep, though, and below all of my self-righteous anger, I still wanted his love and approval, so when he made the offer, I readily accepted. The day we were to go out, my main concern was to manage my dosing so as to shelter my interactions with him and still remain upright. This was a legitimate worry. By this time, I had almost no relationships that involved expectations, and I knew it was impossible to sleep anything off before an “early bird” dinner, especially because I woke most days after noon. I literally had no idea what to do with four to five hours of free time if I wasn’t getting wasted. At any rate, I was only a bit toasty when I climbed into his car, and vainly hoping not obviously so. We arrived at the restaurant, which had been my choice, a tiny sushi place with a few small tables and the requisite bar, a few minutes later. I didn’t feel particularly vulnerable and also wasn’t expecting much. So I was completely caught off guard when my father strangely announced that he just wanted me to be happy. This may possibly be the very last thing I expected to hear; he might have wished me to go back to school, sit up straight, repay what I owed, or take better care of my teeth. But be happy? Where did this father come from? (To this day, he can’t recall the conversation, an...