I don't think you know agony until someone has snatched away your crutches and watched you fall face-first onto the cement, then ground your head in it, tearing skin, cutting cartilage, crushing bone, and smearing blood.
That, my friends, is what sobriety feels like to me. It's a pain I never knew existed until now. I mean, I'd heard the horror stories they tell in health class, but I shrugged and thought, Well, everybody has problems they have to deal with. I thought addiction was just another problem, like a broken heart, losing a friend, or bearing low self-esteem.
I was wrong.
I'd do anything to escape this prison, this hell. I can't even sleep to have a moment of peace. Everything puts me on edge, and the slightest push sends me flying off and falling down a bottomless pit.
Ever hear about those kids who are so dumb they huff cleaning products to get high? Ha, stupid, right? I thought so too, but then I joined the club. I was so desperate to escape my gut-wrenching reality, I ran to the cupboard under the sink. Alas, even that couldn't give me relief. The “high” made me sicker than I already felt, and it somehow doubled my intolerable headache.
You know those little things that annoy you? Multiply them. They're no longer just nails on a chalkboard. Try ten pitchforks attempting to play some god-awful pop song on a chalkboard while a walrus slaps you around. That's how I feel.
Now, my life isn't always like this. My craving varies day-to-day. Sometimes I'm okay, and other times, my own thoughts can drive me up the wall. I can't predict when my hunger will spike, but when it does, I'm never prepared.
While most girls my age are looking for “the one,” their precious soulmate, I've got both eyes wide open for a chance to relapse. You dream of finding love? I dream of getting high in exchange for anything, my soul included. If losing my dignity is what it takes for a moment of bliss, then I'd give it away in a heartbeat. I'd risk anything to silence my pain.
If that sounds impossibly stupid, unimaginably worthless, and laughably pathetic, then I don't think you know what addiction is really like.
And I suggest you keep it that way.
That, my friends, is what sobriety feels like to me. It's a pain I never knew existed until now. I mean, I'd heard the horror stories they tell in health class, but I shrugged and thought, Well, everybody has problems they have to deal with. I thought addiction was just another problem, like a broken heart, losing a friend, or bearing low self-esteem.
I was wrong.
I'd do anything to escape this prison, this hell. I can't even sleep to have a moment of peace. Everything puts me on edge, and the slightest push sends me flying off and falling down a bottomless pit.
Ever hear about those kids who are so dumb they huff cleaning products to get high? Ha, stupid, right? I thought so too, but then I joined the club. I was so desperate to escape my gut-wrenching reality, I ran to the cupboard under the sink. Alas, even that couldn't give me relief. The “high” made me sicker than I already felt, and it somehow doubled my intolerable headache.
You know those little things that annoy you? Multiply them. They're no longer just nails on a chalkboard. Try ten pitchforks attempting to play some god-awful pop song on a chalkboard while a walrus slaps you around. That's how I feel.
Now, my life isn't always like this. My craving varies day-to-day. Sometimes I'm okay, and other times, my own thoughts can drive me up the wall. I can't predict when my hunger will spike, but when it does, I'm never prepared.
While most girls my age are looking for “the one,” their precious soulmate, I've got both eyes wide open for a chance to relapse. You dream of finding love? I dream of getting high in exchange for anything, my soul included. If losing my dignity is what it takes for a moment of bliss, then I'd give it away in a heartbeat. I'd risk anything to silence my pain.
If that sounds impossibly stupid, unimaginably worthless, and laughably pathetic, then I don't think you know what addiction is really like.
And I suggest you keep it that way.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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