A thief in the night
It creeped in my home one night. It slithered and slinked it's way. learning all it could of my habits and patterns. It was quiet. It made no obvious moves. It simply lurked.... With deathly intent.
It can be argued I left the front door wide open. It stayed that way until it happened evil strolled in. Casually and unassuming. Whistling as he checked out his new diggs.
That was when rock cocaine, crack, rocks.... Little white morsels of perceived pleasure made itself known.
I had no idea that something so small could extract from me what was such a big part of my being. Like my essence was to somehow stand next to me rather than in me. ... Only visible in the wafts of smoke as they melted above my head. Or in me chasing the smoke to recapture it... Blurry eyed trying to not let one puff get away. The excitement of the first hit never regained.
My attempts at bringing anyone I could find at the pub into my circle. Desperate to not be alone yet incapable to leave the house once I started. I rarely started alone. Always left a "backdoor" way of getting at more. Always plotting a way to have enough money to start and keep it going. Chasing the night with sheets on the windows to hide the inevitable.
I slipped into places I had never been. Where the scenery was dimly lite. Where the characters of my movie were shadowy at best. Where trades in the corner meant not only trades of cash but morality. Of both myself and those fortunate enough to receive my blessing and join me. Everything traded in tandem.
It's not enough to say I was an addict. Digging deeper to find the strength to continue using pressed heavily against its rival. The preverbal bad against good. Hate versus love. Seeing myself in context was exhausting. I had in me a friend and foe. That friend was down on the ground with me. Whispering in my ear. This is not you. This is not life. This is not the end.
I lacked the strength to rebut. In effect I lacked the will to give up. With the ref counting, this friend coaxed me up from the floor. My time wrestling the pipe. Nervously preparing to receive unscrupulous guests. That was done. Unsustainable in every possible way one could mean that. Any way I could find to make that happen.
I have several of his buddies close behind I would learn. That was not the end of this revolution. But just a battle won in my favor. Drinking was entering the ring. I was not ready.
No more smoke for me. None. Ever again. It would be like a zip line to hell. Were the creepy crawlers tease your skin until you cannot take any more. No sir. Not for me.
Can't be sure I am special in any way. Lucky I can accept. The pace to get to where I want to be has been set. Neither the tortes or the hare can beat me.
I am grateful for the past to be the past. Grateful for today to be today. Looking forward to tomorrow with hope. Love. And that friend inside me willing to risk it all in my name to save me.
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I wrote this two years ago and around this time of year... it seems I find it hidden in with things I try to remind myself of when I get to the holiday season.
Sorry for the repost but I am thankful that I am not still living this.
Ken