To make my condition worse still, while obliged to use opium daily to
prolong even this existence--gloomy and apathetic as it was--I found
that in order to think or work with any thing of vigor I absolutely
required, every now and then, some excitement which opium now would
not give. I tried, therefore, strong tea and coffee and
tobacco-smoking. But all these were not enough, and I found there was
nothing for me but to try alcohol again; so that the upshot of my
experiment of substituting opium for alcohol was, that I got opium,
alcohol, tea, coffee, and tobacco-smoking fastened upon me all at once
and all in excessive quantities; and the consequence of using alcohol
was that no caution I could employ would secure me from occasional
intoxication. Such was my physical derangement that I never could be
certain beforehand of the degree of effect which alcoholic stimulus
would exert upon me, and the same quantity which at one time would
produce only the excitement I sought, would under other physical
conditions completely overcome me.
During my last two years in Brooklyn I made several attempts to break
away from opium and other stimulus, and each time made considerable
progress. But the same circumstances yet existed that originally led
to the evil, and in fact others of the same class had been superadded,
while the whole operated with aggravated force, so that I found or
thought it impossible to achieve my freedom without disclosing my
state, and thus, as I supposed, setting the seal to my own temporal
ruin. Once and again, therefore, I went back to my dungeon.
It may here be remarked that the sedentary man has extraordinary
difficulties to contend with in such a case. His occupation being
lonely, and demanding no bodily exertion, he has little or nothing to
draw off, _perforce_, his attention from the innumerable aches
and tormenting sensations which beset him, sometimes for months
without cessation, in going through the extricating process. To sit
still and endure long-protracted torment demands a resolution compared
with which the courage that carries one into a battle-field is a
paltry thing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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