In
Tweaked, his compelling exposé and memoir,
ex-addict Patrick Moore exposes the spiritual origins
of gay men’s fondness for crystal meth.
Crystal meth use
is epidemic, a pestilence that, while not specific to
gay men and lesbians, is particularly harsh for us. Books
and TV films (like Gia) about the devastating
effects of the drug on people’s lives are
beginning to have some efficacy—what was seen a
decade ago as recreational drug use is now beginning
to be viewed as a wide and perilous path to gay
self-destruction.
In the midst of
all this, activist and author Patrick Moore’s new
book, Tweaked (Kensington Books) stands apart.
Its literary quality is apparent, and it’s a
real artistic leap forward from even his excellent
2004 examination of the gay male sex culture, Beyond Shame.
But it is
Moore’s sly melding of his own personal experience as
an alcoholic and meth addict, along with his account
of meth rehab sessions, that really strikes home in
the book. While the author hesitantly yet proudly
proclaims his sobriety, what he reveals allows us to see
clearly for the first time the real depth and enormity
of the meth problem that our community now faces.
I’ve known
Moore for some time, so I was able to do what few other
readers could—that is, ask him about this mysterious
and potentially deadly pandemic. Like any real
dialogue, our conversation took us to places neither
of us had really considered before.
Picano: Having now read Tweaked, I’d like
to know what you think causes the abuse of
substances such as crystal meth. Is it genetic,
psychological, or some combination of the two?
Moore: I think addiction is a spiritual disease. The
inclination to use drugs, at least for me, came out of
a feeling of not belonging to anything—not
being connected to some feeling of comfort or well-being. I
asked a kabbalah teacher once if his belief system had an
explanation for addiction. He said our intention when
we use drugs is to communicate with God, but because
we’re not spiritually equipped to do that,
we’re damaged when we try to take that
shortcut. It’s like a child seeing a beautiful
flame and wanting to touch it, not knowing it will burn
them.
Spiritual, yet you can’t deny a physiological
connection to drug abuse. Studies have shown that.
In my own family there was substance abuse,
including alcoholism, and I discovered in my mid 30s
that I have a sort of allergy to alcohol, which is
the other side of the same genetic coin. When I
would go out to dinner with friends, we would have long
dinners with a cocktail, wine with the meal, a drink
after. All very civilized, and I never got high.
But I found myself waking up in the middle of the
night with projectile vomiting! Remaining sick hours on
end afterward.
Did you stop drinking?
I cut down to one or two drinks, tops. I found a limit
where I don’t get ill, and I stick to it.
Your experience points out the difference
between an addictive personality and a nonaddictive
one. I also got very sick from drugs and alcohol, and
that experience meant nothing to me. The negative parts of
addiction never slowed me down until they became so extreme
that they were impossible to ignore. But having said
that, I do agree that whether it is genetic or
environmental, our families instill in us a tendency
towards addiction. In other words, my grandmother, who I
talk about in Tweaked, was a severe alcoholic
and addict. I don’t know whether it was
genetics or behavioral, but my connection to her did play a
role in my becoming an alcoholic. If you talk of
Warhol’s Factory and the people around it, they
were creative.
And rebellious and nuts too.
And they were part of that milieu. It was an underground
that was related to creativity—to the arts.
That’s significantly different than getting
high and hanging at the bathhouse for a week. It was not, it
seems to me, a scene that was about isolation.
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Picano, whose first novel was a finalist for the
Hemingway Foundation/PEN Award, has been nominated
for three Lambda Literary Awards.