Although the opium habit was broken, it was only to leave me in a

condition of much feebleness and suffering. I could not sleep, I

could not sit quietly, I could not lie in any one posture for many

minutes together. The nervous system was thoroughly deranged. Weak as

I had become, I felt a continual desire to walk. The weather was

unfavorable, but I managed to get several miles of exercise almost

daily. But this relief was limited to four or five hours at most, and

left the remainder of the day a weary weight upon my hands. The

aversion to reading had become such that some months elapsed before I

took up a book with any pleasure. Even the daily papers were more than

I could well fix my attention upon, except in the briefest and most

cursory way. Within a week, however, the sense of acute pain rapidly

diminished, but the irritability, impatience, and incapacity to do any

thing long remained unrelieved. The disordered liver became apparently

more disordered with the progress of time, producing such effects upon

the bowels as may with more fitness be told a physician than recorded

here. The tonsils of the throat were swollen, the throat itself

inflamed, while the chest was penetrated with what seemed like

pulsations of prickly heat. There was also a sense of fullness in the

muscles of the arms and legs which seemed to be permeated, if I may so

express it, with heated electricity. The general condition of the

nervous system will be sufficiently indicated by the statement that it

was between three or four months before I could hold a pen with any

degree of steadiness. Meantime, singular as it may seem, the

appearance of health and vigor had astonishingly increased. I had

gained more than twenty pounds in weight, partly, I suppose, the

result of leaving off opium and tobacco, and partly the consequence of

the insatiable appetite with which I was constantly followed. Within a

month after the close of the opium strife, I was repeatedly

congratulated upon my healthy, vigorous condition. Few men in the

entire city bore about them more of the appearance of perfect health,

and fewer still were probably in such a state of exhausted vitality.

During the time I was leaving off opium I had labored under the

impression that the habit once mastered, a speedy restoration to

health would follow. I was by no means prepared, therefore, for the

almost inappreciable gain in the weeks which succeeded, and in some

anxiety consulted a number of physicians, who each suggested in a

timid way the trial, some of strychnine, some of valerian, some of

lupuline, hyoscyamus, ignatia, belladonna, and what not. I do not know

that I derived the slightest benefit from any of these prescriptions,

or from any other therapeutic agency, unless I except the good effects

for a few days of bitters, and of cold shower-baths from a tank in

which ice was floating.

The most judicious of the medical gentlemen whose aid I invoked, was,

I think, the one who replied to my inquiry for his bill, "What for? I

have done you no good, and have learned more from you than you have

from me."

This constitutes the entire history of my medical experience, and is

mentioned as being the only, and a very small adjunct to the great

remedy--patient, persistent, obstinate endurance. So exceeding slow

has been the process toward the restoration of a natural condition of

the system, that writing now, at the expiration of more than a year

since opium was finally abandoned, it seems to me very uncertain when,

if ever, this result will be reached. Between four and five months

elapsed before I was at all capable of commanding my attention or

controlling the nervous impatience of mind and body. I then assented

to a proposal which involved the necessity of a good deal of steady

work, in the hope that constant occupation would divert the attention

from the nervousness under which I suffered and would restore the

self-reliance which had so long failed me. It was a foolish

experiment, and might have proved a fatal one. The business I had

undertaken required a clear head and average health, and I had

neither. The sleep was short and imperfect, rarely exceeding two or

three hours. The chest was in a constant heat and very sore, while the

previous bilious difficulties seemed in no way overcome. The mouth was

parched, the tongue swollen, and a low fever seemed to have taken

entire possession of the system, with special and peculiar

exasperations in the muscles of the arms and legs.

The difficulty of thinking to any purpose was only equalled by the

reluctance with which I could bring myself to the task of holding a

pen. For a few weeks, however, the necessity of not wholly disgracing

myself forced me on after a poor fashion; but at the end of two months

I was a used-up man. I would sit for hours looking listlessly upon a

sheet of paper, helpless of originating an idea upon the commonest of

subjects, and with a prevailing sensation of owning a large emptiness

in the brain, which seemed chiefly filled with a stupid wonder when

all this would end.

More than an entire year has now passed, in which I have done little

else than to put the preceding details into shape from brief memoranda

made at the time of the experiment. While the physical agony ceased

almost immediately after the opium was abandoned, the irritation of

the system still continues. I do not know how better to describe my

present state than by the use of language which professional men may

regard as neither scientific nor accurate, but which will express, I

hope, to unprofessional readers the idea I wish to convey, when I say

that the entire system seems to me not merely to have been poisoned,

but saturated with poison. Had some virus been transfused into the

blood, which carried with it to every nerve of sensation a sense of

painful, exasperating unnaturalness, the feeling would not, I imagine,

be unlike what I am endeavoring to indicate.

ADDENDA.--At the time of writing the preceding narrative I had

supposed that the entire story was told, and that the intelligent

reader, should this record ever see the light, would naturally infer,

as I myself imagined would be the case, that the unnatural condition

of the body would soon become changed into a state of average

health. In this I was mistaken. So tenacious and obstinate in its hold

upon its victim is the opium disease, that even after the lapse of ten

years its poisonous agency is still felt. Without some reference to

these remoter consequences of the hasty abandonment of confirmed

habits of opium-eating, the chief object of this narrative as a guide

to others (who will certainly need all the information on the subject

that can be given them) would fail of being secured. While

unquestionably the heaviest part of the suffering resulting from such

a change of habit belongs to the few weeks in which the patient is

abandoning opium, it ought not to be concealed that this brief period

by no means comprises the limit within which he will find himself

obliged to maintain the most rigid watch over himself, lest the

feeling of desperation which at times assaults him from the hope of

immediate physical restoration disappointed and indefinitely

postponed, should drive him back to his old habits. Indeed, with some

temperaments, the greatest danger of a relapse comes in, not during

the process of abandonment, but after the habit has been broken. Great

bodily pain serves only to rouse up some natures to a more earnest

strife, and, as their sufferings become more intense, the

determination not to yield gains an unnatural strength. The mind is

vindicating itself as the master of the body. While in this state,

tortures and the fagot are powerless to extort groans or confessions

from the racked or half-consumed martyr. Many a sufferer has borne the

agony of the boots or the thumb-screw without flinching, whose courage

has given way under the less painful but more unendurable punishment

of prolonged imprisonment. In the one case all a man's powers of

resistance are roused; he feels that his manhood is at stake, and he

endures as men will endure when they see that the question how far

they are their own masters, is at issue. There are, I think, a great

number of men and women who would go unflinchingly to the stake in

vindication of a principle, whose resolution, somewhere in the course

of a long, solitary, and indefinite imprisonment, would break down

into a discreditable compromise of opinions for which they were

unquestionably willing to die.

In the same way a man will for a time endure even frightful suffering

in relinquishing a pernicious habit, while he may fail to hold up his

determination against the assaults of the apparently never-ending

irritation, discomfort, pain, and sleeplessness which may be counted

on as being, sometimes at least, among the remoter consequences of the

struggle in which he has engaged. I wish it, however, distinctly

understood that I do not suppose that the experience of others whose

use of opium had been similar to my own, would necessarily correspond

to mine in all or even in many respects. Opium is the Proteus of

medicine, and science has not yet succeeded in tearing away the many

masks it wears, nor in tracing the marvellously diversified aspects it

is capable of assuming. Among many cases of the relinquishment of

opium with which I have been made acquainted, nothing is more

perplexing than the difference of the specific consequences, as they

are exhibited in persons of different temperaments and habits. For

such differences I do not pretend to account. That is the business of

the thoroughly educated physician, and no unprofessional man, however

wide his personal experience, has the right to dogmatize or even to

express with much confidence settled opinions upon the subject. My

object will be fully attained if I succeed in giving a just and

truthful impression of the more marked final consequences of the hasty

disuse of opium in this single case, leaving it to medical men to

explain the complicated relations of an opium-saturated constitution

to the free and healthy functions of life.

In my own case, the most marked among the later consequences of the

disease of opium, some of which remain to the present time and seem to

be permanently engrafted upon the constitution, have been these:

1. Pressure upon the muscles of the limbs and in the extremities,

sometimes as of electricity apparently accumulated there under a

strong mechanical force.

2. A disordered condition of the liver, exhibiting itself in the

variety of uncomfortable modes in which that organ, when acting

irregularly, is accustomed to assert its grievances.

3. A sensitive condition of the stomach, rejecting many kinds of food

which are regarded by medical men as simple and easy of digestion.

4. Acute shooting pains, confined to no one part of the body.

5. An unnatural sensitiveness to cold.

6. Frequent cold perspiration in parts of the body.

7. A tendency to impatience and irritability of temper, with paroxysms

of excitement wholly foreign to the natural disposition.

8. Deficiency and irregularity of sleep.

9. Occasional prostration of strength.

10. Inaptitude for steady exertion.

I mention without hesitancy these consequences of the abandonment of

opium, from the belief that any person really in earnest in his desire

to relinquish the habit will be more likely to persevere by knowing at

the start exactly what obstacles he may meet in his progress toward

perfect recovery, than by having it gradually revealed to him, and

that at times when his body and mind are both enfeebled by what he has

passed through. With a single exception, the dismost serious one I

have been obliged to encounter. Whether it is one of the specific

effects of the disuse of opium, or only one of the many general

results of a disordered constitution, I do not know.

I can only say in my own case, that after the lapse of years, this

particular difficulty is not wholly overcome. This electric condition,

so to call it, still continues a serious annoyance. But when it

occurs, the pain is of less duration, and gradually, but very slowly,

is of diminished frequency. Violent exercise will sometimes relieve

it; a long walk has often the same effect. The use of stimulants

brings alleviation for a time, but there seems to be no permanent

remedy except in the perfect restoration of the system by time from

this effect of the wear and tear of opium upon the nerves.

Irregularity in the action of the liver, while singularly marked

in the earlier stages of the experiment, and continuing for years

to make its agency manifestly felt, is in a considerable degree

checked and controlled by a judicious use of calomel.

The condition of the digestive organs is less impaired than I should

have supposed possible, judging from the experience of others. A

moderate degree of attention to the quality of what is eaten, with

proper care to avoid what is not easily digested, with the exercise of

habitual self-control in respect to quantity, suffices to prevent, for

the most part, all unendurable feelings of discomfort in this part of

the system. Whether the habitually febrile condition of the mouth,

and the swollen state of the tongue, is referable to a disturbed

action of the stomach or of the liver I can not say. It is certain

that none of the effects of opium-eating are more marked or more

obstinately tenacious in their hold upon the system than these. I

barely advert to the frequent impossibility of retaining some kinds of

food upon the stomach, which has been one unpleasant part of my

experience, because I doubt whether this return of a difficulty which

began in childhood has any necessary connection with the use of

opium. For many years before I knew any thing of the drug I had been a

daily sufferer from this cause. Indeed the use of opium seemed to

control this tendency, and it was only when the remedy was abandoned

that the old annoyance returned. For a few months the stomach rejected

every kind of food; but in less than a year, and subsequently to the

present time, this has been of only occasional ocurrence.

I am also at a loss how far to connect the disuse of opium with the

lancinating pains which have troubled me since the time to which I

refer. These pains began long before I had recourse to opium, they did

not cease their frequent attacks while opium was used, nor have they

failed to make their potency felt since opium was abandoned. While it

is not improbable that the neuralgic difficulties of my childhood

might have remained to the present time, even if I had never made use

of opium, I think that the experience of all who have undergone the

trial shows that similar pains are invariably attendant upon the

disuse of opium. How long their presence might be protracted with

persons not antecedently troubled in this way, is a question I can not

answer. I infer from what little has been recorded, and from what I

have learned in other ways, that the reforming opium-eater must make

up his mind to a protracted encounter with this great enemy to his

peace. That the struggle of others with this difficulty will be

prolonged as mine has been I do not believe, unless they have been

subjected for a lifetime to pains connected with disorder in the

nervous system.

The unnatural sensitiveness to cold to which I have alluded is rather

a discomfort than any thing else. It merely makes a higher temperature

necessary for enjoyment, but in no other respect can it be regarded as

deserving special mention. With the thermometer standing at 80° to

85° the sensation of agreeable warmth is perfect; with the mercury at

70° or even higher, there is a good deal of the feeling that the bones

are inadequately protected by the flesh, that the clothing is too

limited in quantity, and in winter that the coal-dealer is hardly

doing you justice.

The cold perspiration down the spine, which was so marked a sensation

during the worst of the trial, has not yet wholly left the system, but

is greatly limited in the extent of surface it affects and in the

frequency of its return.

The tendency to impatience and irritability of temper to which I have

adverted is by far the most humiliating of the effects resulting from

the abandonment of opium. Men differ very widely both in their

liability to these excesses of temper as well as in their power to

control them; but under the aggravations which necessarily attend an

entire change of habit, this natural tendency, whether it be small or

great, to hastiness of mind is greatly increased. So long as the

disturbing causes remain, whether these be the state of the liver or

the stomach, or a want of sufficient sleep, or the excited condition

of the nervous system, the patient will find himself called upon for

the exercise of all his self-control to keep in check his exaggerated

sensibility to the daily annoyances of life.

Intimately connected with the preceding is the frequent recurrence of

sleepless nights, which seem invariably to attend upon the abandonment

of the habit. Possibly some part of this state of agitated wakefulness

may pertain to the natural temperament of the patient, but this

tendency is greatly aggravated by the condition of the nerves, so

thoroughly shattered by the violent struggle to oblige the system to

dispense with the soothing influence of the drug upon which it has so

long relied. Whatever method others may have found to counteract this

infirmity, I have been able as yet to find no remedy for

it. Especially are those nights made long and weary which

_precede_ any long continuance of wet weather. A moist condition

of the atmosphere still serves the double purpose of setting in play

the nervous sensibilities, and, as a concomitant or a consequence, of

greatly disturbing, if not destroying sleep.

In connection with this matter something should be said on the subject

of dreaming, to which De Quincey has given so marked a prominence in

his "Confessions" and "Suspiris de Profundis." In my own case, neither

when beginning the use of opium, nor while making use of it in the

largest quantities and after the habit had long been established, nor

while engaged in the painful process of relinquishing it, nor at any

time subsequently, have I had any experience worth narrating of the

influence of the drug over the dreaming faculty. On the contrary, I

doubt whether many men of mature age know so little of this peculiar

state of mind as myself. The conditions in this respect, imposed by

my own peculiarities of constitution, have been either no sleep

sufficiently sound as to interfere with the consciousness of what was

passing, or mere restlessness, or sleep so profound as to leave behind

it no trace of the mind's activity. While it is therefore certain that

this exaggeration of the dreaming faculty is not necessarily connected

with the use of opium, but is rather to be referred to some

peculiarity of temperament or organization in De Quincey himself, I

find myself in turn at a loss to know how far to regard other

phenomena to which I have previously alluded as the natural and

necessary consequences of opium, or how far they may be owing to

peculiarities of constitution in myself. Opium-eaters have said but

little on the subject. The medical profession, so far as I have

conversed with them, and I have consulted with some of the most

eminent, are not generally well informed on any thing beyond the

specific effects of the drug as witnessed in ordinary medication. In

the absence of sufficient authority, it may be safer to say that the

remoter consequences of the disuse of opium consist in a general

disorder and derangement of the nervous system, exhibiting itself in

such particular symptoms as are most accordant with the temperament,

constitutional weaknesses, and personal idiosyncrasies of the

patient. That some considerable suffering must be regarded as

unavoidable seems to be placed beyond question from the nature of the

trial to which the body has been subjected, as well as from what

little has been said on the subject by those who have relinquished the

habit.

I close this brief reference to the remoter consequences of the habits

of the opium-eater by calling the attention of the reader to the

physical weakness with consequent inaptitude for continuous exertion

which forms a part of my own experience. Unable as I am to refer it to

any _immediate_ cause, frequent and sudden prostration of

strength occurs, accompanied by slight dizziness, impaired sight, and

a sense of overwhelming weakness, though never going to the extent of

absolute faintness. Its recurrence seems to be governed by no rule. It

sometimes comes with great frequency, and sometimes weeks will elapse

without a return. Neither the state of the weather, nor any particular

condition of the body, appears to call it out. It sometimes is

relieved by a glass of water, by the entrance of a stranger, by the

very slightest excitement, and it sometimes resists the strongest

stimulants and every other attempt to combat it. I can record nothing

else respecting this visitant except that its presence is always

accompanied with a singular sensation in the stomach, and that the

entire nervous system is affected by its attack.

The inaptitude for steady exertion is not merely the consequence of

this occasional feeling of exhaustion, but is for a time the

inevitable result of the accumulated pain and weakness to which his

system, not yet restored to health, is still subject. This impatience

of continued application to work, which is common to all opium-eaters,

and which does not cease with the abandonment of the habit, seems to

result in the first case from some specific relation between the drug

and the meditative faculties, promoting a state of habitual reverie

and day-dreaming, utterly indisposing the opium-user for any

occupation which will disturb the calm current of his thoughts, and in

the other, proceeding from the direct disorder of the nervous

organization itself. Strange as it may seem, the very thought of

exertion will often waken in the reforming opium-eater acute nervous

pains, which cease only as the purpose is abandoned. In other cases,

where there is no special nervous suffering at the time, work is easy

and pleasant even beyond what is natural.

One effect of opium upon the _mind_ deserves to be mentioned; its

influence upon the faculty of memory. The logical memory, De Quincey

says, seems in no way to be weakened by its use, but rather the

contrary. His own devotion to the abstract principles of political

economy; the character of Coleridge's literary labors between the

years 1804-16, when his use of opium was most inordinate; together

with the cast of mind of many other well-known opium-eaters, confirms

this suggestion of De Quincey. His further statement that the memory

of dates, isolated events, and particular facts, is greatly weakened

by opium, is confirmed by my own experience. However physiologists may

explain this fact, a knowledge of it may not be without its use to

those who desire to be made thoroughly acquainted with all the

consequences of the opium habit.

If to these discomforts be added a prevailing tendency to a febrile

condition of body, together with permanent disorder in portions of the

secretory system, the catalogue of annoyances with which the

long-reformed opium-eater may have to contend is completed. This

statement is not made to exaggerate the suffering consequent upon the

disuse of opium, but is made on the ground that a full apprehension of

what the patient may be called upon to go through will best enable him

to make up his mind to one resolute, unflinching effort for the

redemption of himself from his bad habits.

So far as the body is concerned, there is much in my experience which

induces me to give a general assent to the opinion expressed by a

medical man of great reputation whom I repeatedly consulted in

reference to the discouraging slowness of my own restoration to

perfect health. "I can not see," he said, "that your constitution has

been permanently injured; but you were a great many years getting into

this state, and I think it will take nearly as many to get you out of

it."

It may not be amiss to add that those opium-eaters whose circumstances

exempt them from harassing cares, who meet only with kindness and

sympathy from friends, and who have resources for enjoyment within

themselves, have in respect to these subsequent inconveniences greatly

the advantage of those whose position and circumstances are less

fortunate.

The Opium Habit · 第 3 / 25 段