This is how addiction felt to me
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Join Date: Nov 2022
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This is how addiction felt to me
Addiction on an emotional
I need to start by saying I've given almost a decade to the Federal Bureau of Prisons. I've battled this demon known as addiction for more than half of my life. This isn't your normal story concerning addiction. I did my best to show you the emotions behind full blown addiction. I thank you for your time and I hope you enjoy what I've written.
I’ve grown weary of this beast constantly breathing down my neck. Dictating my every move, raining destruction down upon everything I love. Fighting a war inside myself, terrified by the consequences of losing. This monster shows no mercy, beating me within an inch of my life. Suffocating on my failures as a son and as a human being. Drunk on the hate I hold for myself. Bleeding away my conscience until I no longer recognize what stares back at me from the mirror. My language becoming one comprised of lies. Selling my soul to the highest bidder and receiving a slow suicide in return. Why must my demons scream to me whilst I lay in the dark? Demanding obedience, unspeakable agony for all those who dare to defy. From what hell did this sickness spawn? Driven mad by the self-inflicted harm, but addicted to the rush of oblivion it provides.
What makes me forsake my potential, in favor of poisoning my soul? My actions becoming obscene, sacrificing my morals for the sweet kiss of death. Hell becoming my state of being, willfully abandoning the light that blazed within my heart, where now only black ice remains. Anger at my repeated self-induced mistakes feeding the fires of disgust. Vomiting my self-righteousness down upon the feet of my false God. Worshipping at the altar of pain. My daily devotions consisting of little more than ripping at my flesh until what’s left is unrecognizable as human. Our bible bound with the skin of the serpent; its word written in the blood of the innocent. The prayers reeking of decay. Communion nothing more than syringes filled with poison.
My skin grown cold from no longer trusting myself to dwell among the living. Becoming a slave to your own desires is the darkest dungeon one can find themselves in. Your pride ripped away like a cheap suit. Who can love someone that so thoroughly hates themselves? Why must this disease infect those I’m meant to protect? Using their trust like a cheap *****. Corrupting their love like dime store toilet paper. Your promises becoming tantamount to human waste. The smell perpetually reminding you of your disgrace. Will I ever escape this prison or is death my only refuge?
Maybe death would serve as a blessing compared to this retched wretched existence. Have I truly turned my back on God? Or is it that God has turned his back on me. Have I been condemned? Or am I merely condemning myself? Severing all the connections that used to mean so much to me. The cruelest questions in all of humanity eternally echoing in my head. “why?!””Why must you continue like this?!”Why do I relish this pain, when all I truly crave is love?!”
How can I be so strong, yet so weak? I feel as though I’ve been walking forever yet when I look down, I’m still right where I’ve always been. Prying open wounds that have long since closed. Praying what seeps out is the venom which flows through my veins. My eyes are beginning to play tricks on me. At first it appears as though tears ebb from my body. But when I look again it’s just to watch my blood soak the earth beneath me. This animal inside me satisfying its thirst by drinking the tears that roll down my mother’s face. Begging me to step off this path to hell I find myself on. The beast simply smiles as it wraps its long arms around my throat, forcing me to turn away. The sound of my mother’s heart breaking reaches my ears just as I slip from sight.
How empty life can be when one feels so alone. My own worst enemy on even my best days. Constantly caught in these traps I’ve set for myself. Making myself bleed just to prove I’m alive. Cursing the rising sun for everyday that begins anew. More opportunities to debase myself and further damn my soul. My self-respect serving as a door mat on which I wipe my feet. The world seeing me for what I truly am. This thin façade I’ve erected consisting of nothing more than cheap glass. Shattering with every step I take.
Why must I feel so empty? It’s no wonder I fill myself with garbage in a vain attempt to feel full. All day staring at the ceiling, making friends with these shadows that seem to dance on the wall. Have I finally lost my mind? Or did I ever possess it in the first place? Falling to my knees I cry out to the heavens “I AM NOT MY FATHERS SON!” Or am I? Have I lost my capacity to love? How can I banish this hate that consumes every aspect of my life? Rotting me from the inside out. Terrified of what I might be capable of. Even more afraid of not giving a damn. Enjoying watching others suffer as I have suffered. Only comfortable around other souls which have blackened with time. Torturing each other out of a sick sense of compassion. A sea of dead eyes staring back at me. The air caring with it the stench of the abominations we’ve become. Don’t worry, there’s always room for one more.
Sincerely,
Mike Jackson
I need to start by saying I've given almost a decade to the Federal Bureau of Prisons. I've battled this demon known as addiction for more than half of my life. This isn't your normal story concerning addiction. I did my best to show you the emotions behind full blown addiction. I thank you for your time and I hope you enjoy what I've written.
I’ve grown weary of this beast constantly breathing down my neck. Dictating my every move, raining destruction down upon everything I love. Fighting a war inside myself, terrified by the consequences of losing. This monster shows no mercy, beating me within an inch of my life. Suffocating on my failures as a son and as a human being. Drunk on the hate I hold for myself. Bleeding away my conscience until I no longer recognize what stares back at me from the mirror. My language becoming one comprised of lies. Selling my soul to the highest bidder and receiving a slow suicide in return. Why must my demons scream to me whilst I lay in the dark? Demanding obedience, unspeakable agony for all those who dare to defy. From what hell did this sickness spawn? Driven mad by the self-inflicted harm, but addicted to the rush of oblivion it provides.
What makes me forsake my potential, in favor of poisoning my soul? My actions becoming obscene, sacrificing my morals for the sweet kiss of death. Hell becoming my state of being, willfully abandoning the light that blazed within my heart, where now only black ice remains. Anger at my repeated self-induced mistakes feeding the fires of disgust. Vomiting my self-righteousness down upon the feet of my false God. Worshipping at the altar of pain. My daily devotions consisting of little more than ripping at my flesh until what’s left is unrecognizable as human. Our bible bound with the skin of the serpent; its word written in the blood of the innocent. The prayers reeking of decay. Communion nothing more than syringes filled with poison.
My skin grown cold from no longer trusting myself to dwell among the living. Becoming a slave to your own desires is the darkest dungeon one can find themselves in. Your pride ripped away like a cheap suit. Who can love someone that so thoroughly hates themselves? Why must this disease infect those I’m meant to protect? Using their trust like a cheap *****. Corrupting their love like dime store toilet paper. Your promises becoming tantamount to human waste. The smell perpetually reminding you of your disgrace. Will I ever escape this prison or is death my only refuge?
Maybe death would serve as a blessing compared to this retched wretched existence. Have I truly turned my back on God? Or is it that God has turned his back on me. Have I been condemned? Or am I merely condemning myself? Severing all the connections that used to mean so much to me. The cruelest questions in all of humanity eternally echoing in my head. “why?!””Why must you continue like this?!”Why do I relish this pain, when all I truly crave is love?!”
How can I be so strong, yet so weak? I feel as though I’ve been walking forever yet when I look down, I’m still right where I’ve always been. Prying open wounds that have long since closed. Praying what seeps out is the venom which flows through my veins. My eyes are beginning to play tricks on me. At first it appears as though tears ebb from my body. But when I look again it’s just to watch my blood soak the earth beneath me. This animal inside me satisfying its thirst by drinking the tears that roll down my mother’s face. Begging me to step off this path to hell I find myself on. The beast simply smiles as it wraps its long arms around my throat, forcing me to turn away. The sound of my mother’s heart breaking reaches my ears just as I slip from sight.
How empty life can be when one feels so alone. My own worst enemy on even my best days. Constantly caught in these traps I’ve set for myself. Making myself bleed just to prove I’m alive. Cursing the rising sun for everyday that begins anew. More opportunities to debase myself and further damn my soul. My self-respect serving as a door mat on which I wipe my feet. The world seeing me for what I truly am. This thin façade I’ve erected consisting of nothing more than cheap glass. Shattering with every step I take.
Why must I feel so empty? It’s no wonder I fill myself with garbage in a vain attempt to feel full. All day staring at the ceiling, making friends with these shadows that seem to dance on the wall. Have I finally lost my mind? Or did I ever possess it in the first place? Falling to my knees I cry out to the heavens “I AM NOT MY FATHERS SON!” Or am I? Have I lost my capacity to love? How can I banish this hate that consumes every aspect of my life? Rotting me from the inside out. Terrified of what I might be capable of. Even more afraid of not giving a damn. Enjoying watching others suffer as I have suffered. Only comfortable around other souls which have blackened with time. Torturing each other out of a sick sense of compassion. A sea of dead eyes staring back at me. The air caring with it the stench of the abominations we’ve become. Don’t worry, there’s always room for one more.
Sincerely,
Mike Jackson
Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Oxnard (The Nard), CA, USA.
Posts: 13,984
to SR Mrm4ever89Addiction is a cunning thief that will rob one of everything they hold near and dear to them, even your life.
There is a way out of the "trap" of addiction and it starts here and now.
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Join Date: May 2018
Posts: 1,956
Well expressed but I am confident when I say most alcoholics will feel this bad though not writing our thoughts out on paper.
Increasing amounts and frequency of this poison made me spiritually poorer, doubt myself and create numerous syndromes that might or might not exist on wiki.
Alcoholics are not weak. We train our connections in our brain physically to become addicted by constantly strengthening our alcoholic neural pathways. Its proved that alcohol causes semi permanent damage to brain.
We have to unlearn first to live and push each day without alcohol. There's no other way. Unlearning is much harder than fresh learning. Analyze why I want to drink and do real actions to remove that anxiety that pushes me to drink is much better than running to the alcohol store.
There's no quick fix, there are no short cuts, no gain without pain. We must walk back along the hundreds of miles of alcoholic paths and emerge where we started to reboot our lives. All who recovered have put in enormous efforts. Blaming and berating ourselves are negative reactions to an already negative situation. Take positive steps, be positive, think positive, do positive things. Write down your positive commitment. Help yourself and say I love myself. I am a good person. I will re discover myself....one day at a time.
Increasing amounts and frequency of this poison made me spiritually poorer, doubt myself and create numerous syndromes that might or might not exist on wiki.
Alcoholics are not weak. We train our connections in our brain physically to become addicted by constantly strengthening our alcoholic neural pathways. Its proved that alcohol causes semi permanent damage to brain.
We have to unlearn first to live and push each day without alcohol. There's no other way. Unlearning is much harder than fresh learning. Analyze why I want to drink and do real actions to remove that anxiety that pushes me to drink is much better than running to the alcohol store.
There's no quick fix, there are no short cuts, no gain without pain. We must walk back along the hundreds of miles of alcoholic paths and emerge where we started to reboot our lives. All who recovered have put in enormous efforts. Blaming and berating ourselves are negative reactions to an already negative situation. Take positive steps, be positive, think positive, do positive things. Write down your positive commitment. Help yourself and say I love myself. I am a good person. I will re discover myself....one day at a time.
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Join Date: May 2021
Location: England
Posts: 1,850
You have poured your heart out and it comes through in your writing. I hope when you re-read it - you will be happy that you are no longer in that prison of addiction. It's a hell I am never going back to!
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Thread Starter
Join Date: Nov 2022
Posts: 4
Clairification
I was also not an alcoholic. I shot heroin,RX pills, and crack/cocaine. This is how that felt. I posted it here not because I'm new to recovery. I posted it here so newcomers can see that what they are feeling isnt abnormal, you are but one of many. We are here for you.
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Join Date: Apr 2020
Location: Saskatchewan.
Posts: 2,976
Well written Mrm4ever89.
You’ve really expressed the pain and bewilderment well.
So many addicts/alcoholics have felt this gut-wrenching misery. Being incarcerated and dejected by society, living in an institution is an incredibly difficult thing for a human to endure.
Your line about the aminal drinking mother’s tears was deeply personal and profound. Thanks for sharing.
Many of your other lines are deep as well.
Glad you’ve come through it to the other side.
I hope the world puts your words to good use.
Do you see a future where you write to help others? Just as you did here.
Your experience and your prowess with words; your ability to deliver the raw story can be really helpful to others, I think.
Good share. Glad you did.
Keep in touch.
You’ve really expressed the pain and bewilderment well.
So many addicts/alcoholics have felt this gut-wrenching misery. Being incarcerated and dejected by society, living in an institution is an incredibly difficult thing for a human to endure.
Your line about the aminal drinking mother’s tears was deeply personal and profound. Thanks for sharing.
Many of your other lines are deep as well.
Glad you’ve come through it to the other side.
I hope the world puts your words to good use.
Do you see a future where you write to help others? Just as you did here.
Your experience and your prowess with words; your ability to deliver the raw story can be really helpful to others, I think.
Good share. Glad you did.
Keep in touch.
Your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Oxnard (The Nard), CA, USA.
Posts: 13,984
Mrm4ever89 I understand now thank you. I do appreciate your word craft covered a multitude of emotional points of active addiction. My active addiction can be described as parting with Satan in the depths of hell. I had become an evil agent of death. I would do anything to get drugs. The only thing I get when I dig up my past is dirty.
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Thread Starter
Join Date: Nov 2022
Posts: 4
Thank you for your kind words and understanding
I honestly would love to put my words to use. That was my original intent when Writing this. Unfortunately, I'm in a homeless shelter in DC a d I'm grateful my sobriety is intact, I just have nothing else. I'm doing the best I can though and I am moving forward.
Member
Join Date: Jul 2018
Posts: 96
Keep up the good fight buddy!!! It might not seem like it now, but things will exponentially improve if you stay on that right path. Nothing has ever improved through continuing to abuse any substance. Keep your head up and we are all right there rooting for you. This site has been nothing but helpful to me and provided an outlet to realize that I am not alone in my personal struggles. Many of us here for whatever reason found ourselves on that path, but the good thing is there is another less destructive path through hard work and dedication.
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Join Date: Dec 2015
Location: NSW - Australia
Posts: 14,610
You should continue to write Mrm. You're good at it, and it's the real deal.
Rock on the writer who can find the words to describe the agonies. The despair. The words to describe the beauty of redemption. I'm trying to write the 'redemption song' in my head at the moment. My pen is slow.
I love reading good prose that comes from the heart. The real deal.
Thank you. You help me remain sober.
Nearly 3 years. Yay, me.
Yay, you.
Yay, us!
Rock on the writer who can find the words to describe the agonies. The despair. The words to describe the beauty of redemption. I'm trying to write the 'redemption song' in my head at the moment. My pen is slow.
I love reading good prose that comes from the heart. The real deal.
Thank you. You help me remain sober.
Nearly 3 years. Yay, me.
Yay, you.
Yay, us!
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