“In order to find control you must lose it, thus you will understand” - Yours Truly
Face down, hands holding my sorrow from draining to the ground. Ashamed of myself, It’s come to the point where I need help… Yes but that was last week and here I find myself again. A dehydrated fragment of who I am laying hopelessly in my bed fighting the sickness I brought upon me. I said I wouldn’t and I did, I lied, not to my mom, not to my boss, not to my best friend, but I lied to myself. There’s nothing worse than knowing you have failed your own morals, broke your own rules, sacrificed every bit of self-respect you once had. Alcohol was my ammunition but I was the shooter, I have no one else to blame, I’m not about to take the easy way out, I never have. Excuses are tools people use to hide the truth, but I know I have a problem and I’m not going to deny it. I need to fix this, fix it before it’s too late. I built this and I broke it, now I must fix it. Destroyed.. fix me, fix me, fix me.
My entire life I have been in control, that was until now. I knew my limits, I knew my boundaries and the boundaries of others, it didn’t stop me from pushing them but I never crossed them and now I have. The grass is browner on this side,… I know this. Alcohol, drugs, life, death are all things I’ve witnessed but rarely experimented with. Given such utilities for destruction and expected to use them so responsibly is beyond me. It’s been over a month now and I’ve been shit faced drunk every weekend time and time again after telling myself I wouldn’t, purposely making plans in an attempt to distract my weakening mind and failing miserably. The subconscious knows between right and wrong, the present conscious does not. Knowledge is achieved through reading books; experience provides the wisdom to write them. Once an addicts always an addict, some people are blessed with it, some people acquire the curse, I’ve seen both. Addiction is something that can never be removed and only replaced. I have an addictive personality and I know to use it to my benefit, I’m addicted to adventure, adrenaline, insecurity, hope, and life as it is… alcohol lingers in my genes and in my blood, I’m educated but not experienced. The problem with being addicted to adventure is that each and every one needs to outperform the last, in this case I feed myself to the lions and hope I escape, I offer my weakness and test myself with more than just a story, this leap of faith doesn’t just leave me in a mangled mess of unopened parachute but a long life a suffering and disappointment. Feed me fear, give me the thing I’ve always used but rarely abused, I need to know the bad to appreciate the good.
I need to know, I need to see, I need to feel. It all comes together now when it’s broken down into a simple thought, the urge to have something you don’t. I have run marathons and craved the pain in my legs. I walked a thousand kilometers and craved the hunger in my stomach, I drove 289km/h and craved the speed, I have drank a pint and feared the next, I knew better than all the rest what this could do to me more harm. I say the hell to that and face your fears, dig deep, test yourself like no other test. Fill me, drug me, test me. If I’m alive next week I will have failed, If I’m awake next week I will have succeeded in beating the largest substance killer in the world.
I’m headed into a fight blind and restrained. Dig deep, breath hard, stiffen your jaw, expect pain and anticipate success.