Everybody must get stoned

Well, it is I, your intrepid reporter coming to you whacked out on cold medicine from the meeting room at work. My head feels like it's inside a pillow and the stuffing is shifting around and making its way into my ears and mouth. Despite the medication my brain hurts and thoughts make almost all the way from their creation point to my mouth before I lose all track of them. It sucks. To top it off there's 2 good shows tonight and I really don't think I should hit the town what with how I feel like someone's been hitting me in the back with a cricket bat.

My life has nothing of interest going on in it, hence my rare updates. I've learned how to get movies onto my iPod. That's exciting. I've also learned how to connect my iPod to my TV so I can watch them in glorious 19in as opposed to luxurious 2.5in. That's about the highpoint of my recent escapades. Whoot.

I want to share a few thoughts about House now. If you don't watch House this may bore you or it may provide fascinating insight into my character. I'm not writing this on one of the forums because I don't know if I'm that comfortable sharing this much of me with strangers that I kinda virtual reality know. Hell, I'm not that comfortable sharing with people I do know. That's why I so appreciate how little of what I write here is held against me IRL.

ANYHOO-Last night House went into rehab (voluntarily) seemed to be coming off of Vicodin and was able to get out of going to jail. Not a big surprise ending since they can't exactly send the star of the show to prison. It's not OZ after all. At the end Wilson handed House some pills which House then popped in the traditional manner and Wilson realized that House was using again. Or had never stopped. He didn't seem hurt, or even terribly shocked. He laughed and accepted it as inevitable. This didn't bother me. Maybe it should. But it didn't and this is why. There are addicts and then there is addiction.

An addict is someone that can't function in the world. The alcoholic that loses his/her job because of constantly calling in late or not coming in at all. That's an addict. The user of street drugs that sells everything he/she owns to buy drugs. That's an addict. The person that loses everything (and everyone) in order to be with the drug of choice. That person is an addict. The dailly user is not necessarily an addict. The person that drinks everyday-gets drunk everyday-is addicted. The wake and bake pothead-is addicted. Assuming neither of these people risks anything but their own personal safety (by which I mean does not drive or go skydiving while under the influence) there's no harm done.

OH! But what about the damage caused to the people around them? Most addicted people have the sense to surround themselves with other addicts. Or not surround themselves at all. This is not true for all relationships, and I am sure if anyone ever read this there would be an uproar, but I don't think addicted people are the most popular people on the planet. That minimizes the possibility of harming another person. Few people want to cause harm to anyone else and the addicted maintains enough sense to know that. It's when the addicted becomes an addict that damage is done. It's a fine line, but it is a line.

For example (personal note) I am almost undeniably addicted to alcohol. The action of drinking-the way it allows me to function in society and the way it allows me to turn off the world around me when necessary. I don't drink simply to get drunk. I drink because I drink. But I am not an addict. I am, most certainly, an unmedicated manic-depressive. I chose that. I can either battle the loss of hope for a future and the complete drain of personality and enjoyment of life that came with being on Lithium or the bottle. Lithium made me able to function-but I wasn't happy. I couldn't think, couldn't carry on interesting conversations. My life lacked all joy. In fact, it lacked any emotion at all. Now, I have emotion. Strong emotion. It's a constant battle inside my head just to remain sane. It sucks-but it's better than the alternative. Others might say that Lithium-me is real. Some might even say that me on Lithium was how I am supposed to be. I disagree. Allow me to point out the logic in that strawman. If the personality I have on Lithium is my true personality then the alcoholic when drunk is equally the actual personality.


Does this have anything to do with House? Yes. House is addicted to Vicodin. He knows that. Wilson knows that. Wilson tried and failed on several occasions to get House to give up the pills. The response was the Christmas Eve overdose. They both know that they will do whatever they feel like they have to in dire situations. It's their ace in the hole. They're willing to desert each other. Wilson has always been the only person that spent time with House that didn't have to. He's bore the wrath of that crazy bitch Cameron and the most awesome Cuddy. He left his best friend to possibly choke on his own vomit. House appciated that, in his own way he even said so. The episode's title (Words and Deeds) says it all. House's (words) apology was sincere. Wilson's (deeds) walking away on Christmas Eve showed that he isn't a complete doormat. He is, however, accepting of House as he is.

The disgust some people seem to be expressing about the last scene is confusing to me. Isn't that what everyone wants from their TV shows? Happy endings? There it is. Everyone's happy. Except maybe Cameron. But that makes me very happy. Very, very happy.