Addict

Today's one of those days where I have the sneaking suspicion that I am an addict. My drug of choice is your approval. And for as long as I can remember I've been striving to overdose.It's changed over the years. The way it made me feel, the way I tried to get it. When I was younger, it was like that was all I lived to do. And the weirdest part is, you're a gateway. Now I look for other peoples' approval too. 

I realized about four years ago that I may have a problem. Moreover I realized that the problem existed. Before that I didn't even understand that I was using. I just thought that was normalcy, and my brief moments of "clean" were growing pains or moments of weakness. But it was a lifetime of weakness with small respites of clarity that I had grown into. I used to try. For a while it wasn't even necessary. When my daily routines were filled with innocence, wonder, discovery and triumph. It was a steady stream of comforting relief. My own privet stash that I didn't really have to earn. It felt so good to call it home. I got older. Times got tougher; and circumstance wore heavy on our minds and lives. Suddenly it wasn't so easy. When it took restraining fights or an extra hug. Sometimes ( if I really felt like outdoing myself) I'd slip those "you're the best!" notes in with your day. That always worked. Time has a habit of marching on, and carelessly trampling your sense of security. It was hard for the both of us. You were forced to talk it out. I forced myself to stay silent. We grew so collectively sad that I needed to put my desires aside, and shelve the need. But even the scraps were effective enough to survive off of. After a few lean years, things started to pick up again, started to get better. There were even pretty good.

And you have no idea how intoxicating the simplicity and ease of "good" is until you've begged for meager. When things were good, they were quietly amazing. And I went on using for a few happy years. I was in the zone. Nobody understood what it felt like. It was home. It was not only all I had ever known; but all that made sense. The only place where things were connected. After being so long without it, it felt amazing. Like sliding the pieces back into place. I knew something had felt off about those few previous years. I didn't put my finger on it until about four years ago when I realized the problem.

It was an awful bitterness. That truth I found. I had picked this drug. And the wrong dealer. As much as I craved your approval; I figured out then, that it would not be enough for you. That I would constantly be seeking you out for more. Always know you had more to dispense. Ever since then I have been disgusted at my addiction; hating every second I gave into the weak emptiness and subconscious servitude to an unforgiving mistress. About how even now, as I've struggle my hardest against it; to not be decided because of or in spite of it; it controls me. Not completely any more. 

It's not just your supply. It's more now. It's ones I know I would never be able to have enough of. But for whatever crooked reasons that seem to ease my troubled soul, I sign on for shallow two-dimensional addiction after addiction. They are all the same too in experience. Yes, each has their own qualities. Each has their own tricks to teach me a thing or two about life. I am appreciate and wary of all of them. In time, when I am done with them or there is no more, then they all feel the same. A terrifyingly beautiful dream. A perfect symbolism riddled with realization. A clarifying haze I wish never to repeat. After all of these choices I wonder a few things.

Why can't I stop? What made me this way? Will it always be like this? Why don't they create interventions for these types of problems! Today I saw you. I thought about him. I speculated on the future. I categorized patterns to predict where I'm headed. Today's one of those days where I'm worried I'm an addict. I think back on the past as I speed toward the future. A thundering whisper in my mind just tiptoes up to the edge of a conclusion as it echoes in my mind one thought. One idea. One plea? One wish: Why don't you guys stop me?