There’s a very thoughtful article in today’s NY Times regarding a plague of heroin addiction in Bennington, Vermont. It made me think of something a friend of mine told me a few weeks ago about addiction: “Well, I had an addiction, too–my drug of choice was work.”

That really resonated with me. I am a recovering work-a-holic.

It’s been said that everyone worships something, it’s just a matter of “what”. Some people choose career success, such as a promotion, a raise or a new start-up. Others choose social success, such as going to, and hosting, hot social events. Some choose relationships, going in and out of encounters with others, whether short-term or long-term. And, others choose alcohol and/or drugs, to escape from boredom, past trauma, or extremely difficult situations.

I write about this because of my reactions to the NY Times article, as it profiled person after person in the deep throes of heroin addiction. I felt a lot of empathy for them, and, then, I started to think about: “Man, could I have been one of these addicts?”

If I didn’t have great parents, maybe I too would have picked a dangerous “drug of choice”? I’ve read somewhere that it only takes a few majorly bad decisions to completely alter the path of your life.  I believe that.

Once we think we’re immune to adversity, I think, that’s when we start to make bad choices.