Industrial Addiction
By: Tim Varner
Tags: Addiction, Food, Recovery, Mental Health, Hospitality

17 year old me

Disclaimer

Providing this article, I may come off as bias, attempting to deter, and/or grudge-holding over a once vibrant part of my life. These are my views on an industry I have spent 14 years working for. In no way does this minimalize any other industries issues, nor push persuasion on any dreams one may possess.

From Dreams to Reality

Growing up in a well-structured home, I never followed the guidelines of a child’s dream. I never relinquished the goal-oriented aspirations of becoming a doctor, astronaut, firefighter, or superhero. My mind was always set on the creativity of architecture and the fascination of producing my own structure. I followed this path throughout my schooling and continued on to college in pursuit. As I attended college, I began work in a fine-dining restaurant. Keeping in mind I had dabbled in the occasional recreation of drugs and drinking, I was introduced into a world of unparalleled proportions.

Upon my graduation from college, earning a degree in the field I forever wanted, I found myself deep in a hole of an industry I never wanted. As my years and rank grew in the industry I found myself enjoying it more and more. I was gaining a vast knowledge of all things food-related and was able to express my disturbed mentality with comedic value. I began drinking very early in my career, being 17 at the time and proceeded into a life of addiction.

Where Do We Go?

After 14 years, 3 DUI’s, 2 assault charges, homelessness, rehab, jail, and ailing health, I was set free from the only world I grew to know. Being “set free” was without question being fired from my place of business. I had spent nearly half of my life, to that point, in one building. I struggled through 60+ hour work weeks, lost an incredible amount of time with my family, and wound up hospitalized on more than one occasion due to my drinking in excess.

Warned by family, friends, and health care professionals about my disease, I ignored their words because when it came to coworkers, (leaders and followers), the view of “as long as I do my job” was the only requirement. I found myself spending upwards of $200 a week in my place of business on alcohol alone. I was homeless, so they housed me in the attached hotel, (not free of charge) and towards the end, any money I made in my suicidal work schedule went right back to the company.

Being able to fuel my addiction due to the addicts that surrounded me every day, gave me comfort in knowing I wasn’t the only one. We would sit long into the morning hours, drinking and partying. Looking back on it now, it was a scene of complete disrepair, but being part of this team we knew the alcohol would never run dry.

Learning to Breathe

Being fired behind bars is nothing new for addicts in my condition, but upon hearing the news I felt an incredible sense of relief. No longer was I expected to destroy my well-being for minimal pay, nor was I able to participate in the destructive activities I once did. Upon my release from jail, I entered a rehabilitation course and realized the groups in recovery were the ones I needed. Not being alone as I was drinking quickly changed to not being alone sober, and I was of heaven-like proportions.

As I attended AA meetings, completed daily goals, and continued my persistence in sobriety, my family began regaining their love and trust in me. I lost touch with everyone from the restaurant both through the determination of my wife as well as court orders. I was permanently banned from the establishment and property, and only heard stories of how they began crumbling. I was the workhorse that drove that community and that was the sole reason they supported my addiction. I showed up every shift, every day, no matter what condition I was in. I was warned by family and friends how I was simply being used through temptation but disregarded any negative thoughts with the popping of a bottle.

After being dismissed from my job, I realized that was never the life I wanted. I was drawn into the chaotic atmosphere and seducing thoughts the industry provides. A once easily-influenced college boy had grown into a free-thinking father.

A Revolving Sentence

Addiction, depression, and suicide have been dominant in the culinary field for as long as anyone knows. The long hours and mistreatment of families tend to cause more destruction than progression. One recent famous story will always be held in the back of a chef’s mind. The late and great Anthony Bourdain fell victim to the lifestyle. As a national tragedy and an industry-shaking loss, his suicide was proven to be in direct relation to the field of his expertise. He was and still is an award-winning, heroic predecessor for millions of aspiring chefs. With his death, the realization of how disrupted the industry can be was brought to light.

A once cherished industry and the passion-driven field was soon realized to be a dark and twisted path that can lead to an unfortunate demise. People may change and grow out of the industry but as I’ve seen countless times, the internal scars remain. The long hours take their toll on your body and the chances of addiction can tear down the strongest of humans.

I applaud those who enter this field and never lift a glass. The ones who never roll a dollar or swallow anything not prescribed. It is possible to make it through this life as a clean and respectable figure, but I was not one of those.

All is Not Lost

As the industry continues a new wave of adolescents takes reign. I am optimistic in a sense that with the progression of the opioid crisis and the growing disdain for addiction, one day this field will flourish with a level-head. Providing refuge and paychecks for those with criminal backgrounds, this industry has taken on the role of repositioning delinquents into society. By accepting that task, the owners and leaders of this prestigious field need to entice responsibility and structure their companies. Not around the beneficial dollar in their pockets but around the benefits of a respectable society.

Paying the Bill

Sitting back and reconstructing what little I remember, I cannot help but feel a biased remembrance. My former employment has lost several lives to the addiction world and is slowly losing more. The once energetic and enjoyable times have turned into a cloudy haze of regret. As I hear of my past influencers losing the battle of this disease, I cannot help but wonder how I was a survivor. The gift of being forced from the industry saved my life, I would have never left through my own choices. Even with a family that loves me through all the havoc I’ve caused, my addiction was fueling my work and my work, my addiction.

The lives lost to tragedy need to never be forgotten, they are forever reminders to the world. As stated before, my dream was architecture, I did everything I needed except to commit. My advice to those choosing a path I have struggled down. Never give up on your dreams. A job is a job and you cannot let it consume you, set your goals high, and strive for the top. I chose my path without conscience. But glad to have survived.

One Day at a Time…