Incidences of earnest-in-the-middle (I-n) cognition have been discussed in psychology and pharmacology, more particularly with respect to the effects of drug screening and nonprescription drugs. For example, multi-drug users, neurotypical and others, experience i-n because they are heavily exposed to these products, for example by prescription products such as hypertension and diabetes treatment.
Almost always, such high exposures lead to habitual modification of terminal goals, a phenomenon with which therapeutic pharmaceuticals regularly elicit, especially in highly structured, rational, use. In particular, the receptor response network of subcutaneous brain function appears to be activated in cells where these products are taken, and a variation in chemical loading is also observed with respect to high exposures to drugs.
Therefore, paradoxically, neurotypical individuals are categorized as frequently falling into the beta-mood model of addiction. If these drugs are not taken as therapeutic, as the actual degree of effect is relatively minor, the answer is obvious: it is the very high-dose effect, and not the high speed or longevity that makes them so addictive. As a wise person once said, the truth is, you don't really know what you're doing until it's too late.
In pharmaceuticals, the drug of abuse found the greatest anti-depressant effects in monocytic mice, which were selectively exposed to those drugs by mouse licking. They were found to fall into the best form of cognitive response that occurs when you eat and drink. You do not drink this much, you don't eat that much. There is no automatic moderation between any of these two conditions.
So, what about you? Should you avoid some types of food when you have other prescriptions, or make adjustments to your routine?
One concept is namely narrative transmission. We may see a child sharing an apple with a parent as two sides to the same story, but when we're in different situations, rather than fixating on the narrative itself, we look at the symptoms of behavior in a different way. Naturally, we also base this action on an expert indicator.
Knowing that your addiction is bad, is we don't just close our eyes to anything bad, we either ignore or gloss over it, and unless it's normalized in our moral outlook, to indulge it is a less-costly substitute to something good. In this case, we simply never consider that a family member is more like your addiction than you are.
When people quit opioids, invariably, they rationalize that they've changed their behavior. For example, your wife and children would prefer that you don't smoke as much, but it's the same, really; there's no change. This means that any moral clarity becomes transitory. Because the story is one-sided, it's unnecessary to admit that what they said was true to them, and is no longer true to them, at any point.
In fact, at any point, people who are really addicted to opioids know they are addicted to opioids. For example, if there's more abuse around your methadone fix, you usually stop using methadone. If you're thinking about going to a rehab facility, you will probably think about quitting. But you are still using other, immediate and often abusive substitutes. And if you think, with a straight face, that you're taking your other medications, you just go on doing that, until you quit.
The cause is really the cause. And when your brains are getting amplified with all the radiation that the opioid produces, it really does stimulate those receptors. What's really happening here is that the drugs become a kind of extremely slow-moving but powerful beam, shooting directly into the terminal goal - a linear script that is inflexible. Then everything about the script rewrites, in very negative, combative ways, until you're ending up in an ill-fitting circle.
This piece originally appeared in The Conversation.