What made me do it in the first place? Was it a conscious choice or was it nothing more than my fated plight? Some say the road to addictions is rooted in our genetic make-up while others more lean towards environmental and societal discord being the culprit. So the argument between nature vs. nurture goes on and on. So should addictions be viewed as an disease as real as cancer? Isn't an addiction like having cancer of the soul, of the psyche or of the whole being? Ask any addict and when they reach a moment of truth, they'll tell you just how diseased their life really is and how their disease has affected every person who cares about them.
For me, drugs were a highly effective numbing agent. They masked my pain and helped me build that rubber wall I existed behind for many years. For years, I thought what I had constructed was a rather superior brick wall. Pink Floyd was even nice enough to write a few songs that nicely summed it all up until an old boyfriend, my first love opened my eyes to my flawed thinking. No, my wall wasn't made of bricks unless those bricks I used were made of rubber. You see, normal bricks no mater how thick can be penetrated. My bricks had to be made of rubber because everything just bounced off them. The few times I did have any real feelings during those dark years were quickly disguised by my "I don't give a shit" attitude.
The sad part is that the disguise after awhile wasn't a disguise at all. It was who I had become. I was a person who had few morals or values except those ones I learned on the streets. So, was it a conscious decision to build that wall? Well, yes and no! I think it started out as just living in the moment and experimenting with those things offered to me and then something clicked when my reality was altered. The addiction switch got turned on and then everything was fair game for keeping the cancer growing ...eating, sex, drugs, gambling, work, etc etc. It all fed the starving monster!
I wasn't a typical addict, but one who binged and purged on everything. The purging part was what kept me in denial for such a long time. Hey look at me! I haven't done drugs in a long time so that means I'm not really an addict. Hey look at me! I haven't had sex in a long time so that must mean I'm not really an addict and so on and so forth.
The reality of it is that I've learned my limitations the hard way. I know what I'm capable of and with just a little taste of those things I love most, the monster is let loose once again. So does that mean I don't take risks or battle with that monster inside me any longer? No, it's always present. It's always lurking somewhere just beneath the surface. It has kept me from believing that I can not or will not ever experience "normal"...whatever "normal" is. You have to understand, "normal" is that pie in the sky that every addict fantasizes about tasting. However, somehow we all know a "normal" life isn't something that would hold our interest for very long. The word "quagmire" comes to mind.
Gratitude statement: I'm grateful for the truth no matter how harsh and ugly it may be at times because if "they" are correct, "they" say the truth will set you free.
All gibberish within ©2004-2011 Mildred Ratched Memoirs.