Rewind a few decades. One does not become a junkie overnight. By junkie, I mean a lifestyle. A lifestyle associated with the numbing of pain by using any means necessary.
For a long time I tried to blame my drug addiction on anything but me. My parents divorce, childhood trauma, nobody likes me, a poor girl in a rich city, the junkie baby daddy- you name it. The fact of the matter is that all those aspects of my life contributed to me becoming a junkie. When it comes down to it we all write our own story. What we as ourselves do willingly is considered our choice. Our choices all combined over time write our story. Nobody forced me to numb my pain the way I chose to numb my pain. Sadly I don't always feel as though I had a choice, or a support system, but I did choose.
At age 16. Drinking all day at school and on my lunch breaks. I'd drink and puke. I would force myself to throw up. Bulimia. My first attempt to alleviate my pain. Almost as if the purging itself would purge my emotion.
I quickly learned that not only did making myself vomit not alleviate the pain, but it made it worse. (duh)
One of the hardest things I believe that we can face in life is the realization that we have severely screwed up by our own choice. By our own free will. It's a catch-22. Once you admit (to yourself) that you chose this, you want to block that realization out as well.
and so it began....
No comments:
Post a Comment