What is your attitude to an addict's death?

Sunday 9th February 2014.

Following the very sad and untimely death of the actor Philip Seymour Hoffman on 2nd February the media has been awash with comments on the circumstances, which it is thought likely to be the result of an accidental heroin overdose (to be confirmed once the outcome of the autopsy is made public). An esteemed Hollywood actor and father of three it would seem that, for the most part, there is a feeling of massive personal loss and overwhelming sympathy for this 'tortured soul'. Personally I feel saddened that his talent has been lost forever more and I will never see it borne out again on the big screen (much as I have done when other actors I have greatly admired have passed away unexpectedly) but I acknowledge that this is reflection of my own selfish feelings about the matter. I mainly feel great sympathy for his family, especially his young children, mother and siblings – who wouldn't? I wonder if they had the news broken to them in a personal and dignified way or if they had to suffer the torture of hearing it on the TV or radio. I wonder if they are able to protect themselves from the persistent opinions of those who never knew the man as a person rather than a personality. Seeing images of his ex-partner and their three young children at his funeral I am struck by how hard it must be to have to live out your personal grief in the media spotlight simply because of your loved one's job.

The media and social networks have been filled with messages of support and sympathy. I haven't seen many negative comments, although they must be more out there somewhere, but this leads me on to the real point I'd like to make in response to this event. When an unknown (and generally disadvantaged) person from an ‘ordinary’ town is found dead in similar circumstances the reaction from society in general is never quite the same as when a big movie or music star dies in the same way. The tendency is to look down upon them, chastise their self-harming actions and berate the recently deceased for their ultimate foolishness/stupidity.

“If her mum was an alcoholic then she should have known better than to drink herself to death.”
“He had a loving wife, a good job and a nice house. I can't believe he would just throw it all away for a good time!”
“Why would he do that when he has kids? How selfish to leave them alone.”
“There's no excuse for not helping yourself. They chose to keep taking heroin and what good do you expect to come from that?”

Why are these uncaring reactions so commonplace? Why do people instantly feel so angry and aggressive with the faceless victims of addiction in their own towns? Why are people kinder to those in the spotlight?

Addiction does not recognise your wealth or status in the world. Rich or poor, famous or anonymous, the drive to change your state of mind and make yourself feel 'better' can grab hold of anyone and ultimately push that person too far regardless of what the outside world deems that their life has to offer them. When it is someone in the performing arts world who dies we feel a personal loss but we also feel that in some way this is expected, that they have become a victim of the system that made them and that we are partly responsible. Why can we not extend this thinking to people much closer to home, who suffer the effects of their own mental health problems with just as much brutality? We often feel that these unknown victims are the same as us where as the famous are elevated to a higher status, seen as something other. We can forgive those who we feel we have put pressure on in some way but we reject the notion that we have done the same for those closer to home. Is it out of shame or embarrassment that we become so cold and unsympathetic?

In my opinion anyone who is killed by their addictions is a victim of the human condition that drives us all to want to feel good and to dislike feeling bad. One out of every four people will suffer with mental health problems in any given year in the Western world. Addiction is a symptom of these afflictions. The next time you hear of somebody in your town dying in similar circumstances – found with a needle in their arm and bags of illegal drugs by their side – maybe the notion might occur to you that the world has lost someone with the same potential to bring joy to the lives of others as you felt when you heard of the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman, and so you might try to feel the same twinge of sadness within you and sympathy for their tragic loss of life. What have you got to lose by doing so? You may find that you have something to gain.