It struck me the other day that much of the art I’ve been consuming lately is about addiction and recovery. Addiction thrives in secrecy and shame, so the use of substances to escape or to numb is a subject I wish we talked more about more openly. And by substances I am talking as much about shopping or food or sex or love or smartphones as I am about alcohol or heroin or cocaine. And by addicts I mean the stylish woman next door who seems, on the outside, to have it all together. By addicts, I mean the man in your office who has a PhD in putting on a brave face.
Addicts are everywhere. We all know them. The people who think they don’t know any addicts just need to open their eyes a bit wider, no offence to them. Some of us are addicts ourselves.
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