1377 Days - Sober Monologues Pt. 2
(CW: alcoholism, addiction, heartbreak, depression)
Warning. This part does not have a happy ending. But it’s near. I can feel it.
Heartache. When I got my heart broken again, they didn’t shut the door properly and my old friend addiction stuck her nosy head through the frame. She’s wondering how I’m holding up. Letting me know, that if I ever needed a shoulder to cry on, she’d be there for me.
High. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Not a single thought wasted on addiction. For years I felt like her ex, desperately waiting for her call, for us to get back together. Instead I got drunk on the personality of this one person. Being full of hope. Butterflies endlessly filling up my stomach, allowing me to float. Later sitting on the floor, giggling. Kicking my feet in bed, when they send another message.
Unwelcome. A couple months after it ended, I moved again. Addiction followed. Every single time the darker thoughts sneak their way back into my mind, she knows exactly how and where to find me. She’ll be showing up at my doorstep, „just to check in“. She says she worries for me. And I’m worried I’ll give in and pick up the phone, the next time she calls.
Incarcerated. Everybody says being sober is being free. Feeling freely. Enjoying life freely. Getting better at handling your emotions. Freely. Yet I find myself imprisoned by the many thoughts, that try to get me to relapse. They’re telling me bittersweet things. Offering to fill the void all the past lovers tore into my soul. Giving me the warmth of the hug I so desperately need. Desperately wanting to stop the bleed of my ever aching heart, trying hard not to forget alcohol works as a blood thinner. Trying to not hurt myself in the process and bleed out.
Shame. The feeling of telling loved ones „Hey, I’m thinking of joining an AA meeting. I think I might need it“, after trying to tell myself that I didn’t actually have a problem, because other peoples addictions seemed worse, so I don’t count as an addict. I could go a few days without a drink, so surely it couldn’t have been that bad. But now she’s constantly on my mind. Every. Waking. Moment. It’s getting harder to walk past the liquor aisle. Picking up the pace, averting my eyes, yet trying to catch a glimpse.
Shimmer. The light in my eyes is getting duller with every day. I can feel how I’m withering away. Still I know it’s going to get better. Everything will get better again. There’s hope. Though, I don’t want it to get better. When will it finally be good? And stay good. For good. Good.
Trapped. Just the good kid, getting lost on track in this ever confusing network of life. One wrong turn and I’m lost. Again. Stuck, where I never wanted to end up. Trying to breathe, but they’re slowly suffocating me. Trying to find a way out, but not knowing where else to go. I am stuck, but don’t actually know, where else I am supposed to be, just that it’s not here. I don’t know who I am, nor who I am supposed to be, just that I don’t wanna be me.
kaledo-art
germansingergirl
jbbartram-illu
snowghoul
blakekathryn
titsay
annaxmalina
