Addict
The Thought, It Grows...
It’s taking over my life…
The thought consumes me, flourishing like some devilish weed. No matter what I do, no matter what I say; it’s always there waiting for me. It eats and grows and eats and grows. At the back of my mind it dwells like some insidious rat, chewing and chattering within my mind. It hurts and it pains me but I cannot stop. The darkness has consumed every fiber, every limb and for the life of me I simply cannot help myself. A craving that will not go away, a fantasy that can never be fulfilled, the thought is terrifying and it is much too strong.
It started out as a pleasant thing, one I invited. There was a point that it was welcomed, even cherished. It provided a sense of comfort, a sense of belonging. Those around me thought it was better for me and a sense of happiness enveloped my body. Warm feelings embraced my soul as I felt invincible and free. It was exhilarating and new; it was difficult to imagine life without it. Things just felt better, it was brighter times. I remember laughing a lot more and having a sense of wonder towards the world. It added a sense of excitement, something that had been lacking from my life.
But then it began to burrow deep within my mind. No longer was it something that I welcomed, it had begun to turn unkind. The once amusing thoughts had turned sour and slowly began to decay. At first, it was not too bad. There were times I could and function as myself. It was not all the time that I thought about it, only when it reared its ugly head. It seemed I had more control for I managed to quell the screeches. My thoughts still held some sort of clarity and would still make common sense. Yet like the rat, it was always there still chewing and gnawing, chewing and gnawing. The constant reminder that it always had to be on my mind, that it was the most important thing. I tried to stop it and claim back control but it began to grow. With each and every day, it began to get bigger and bigger. Like a monster, it growled and hissed every time I asked it to go away. I didn’t need it anymore but it seemed like it was here to stay.
Then the voices came, the ones telling me how much I thirst for it. I begged for them to go away, to let me be. I knew that I did not need it. And yet, the little voices would whisper in my ear as I slept. The horrible screeching as they tried to get me to think about it. They were stronger at night, when everything else was silence. As I lay there, trying to conjure sleep in order to escape, I could hear their shrilled voices. It was like pins in my ear, making little cuts and causing me to bleed all over the sheets. I would squeeze my eyes and pray for other thoughts. Anything would suffice, anything was better than it. My brain raced to find something else to fixate on, but all my other memories were blurs. Nothing came to mind, nothing except for it. The little voices would not stop and tried to get me to think about it.
They pulled and tugged at me, causing me to quiver and shake. Finally, after much extorting I gave in. It flooded into my mind, but the warm feelings were gone. In its place were corrupted and foreign feelings. No longer did I feel safe or happy, but rather I felt miserable. It wore me out, the thoughts. How I needed it, how I wanted it, how my life was nothing without it; these were the thoughts that ate and tore at every part of me. They crawled like cockroaches and consumed my body. My screams for help, for salvation were drowned by the crackling of the cockroaches’ feet and the unison sound of chewing and tearing.
No matter how much I run or walk, I can’t stop thinking about it. On the streets, in lines, at the doctor’s office, it is a part of me. Nothing else seems to matter, nothing else is important. Yet, the conscious part of me begs that someone can hear me and liberate me from myself imposed prison. Perhaps by some miracle, the thoughts will go away. But it seems naïve and far-fetched as the thoughts have made a home within my mind. They serve as the dark reminder that I am not who I used to be and that person is gone. They serve as the constant reminder that I am weak and I will always need it. The thoughts swarm and fly around my mind, plunging me into darkness. There are days in which I am nothing but a zombie, victim of my morbid thoughts. There are days in which death appears to be the most pleasing option, the ultimate silence from the snarling thoughts that fill the hollowness of my mind and echoes through my body. Just absolutely silence, deep in the ground. For the thoughts are right…
I can’t stop think about it. I can’t stop wanting it. I am weak.
Yet there are those days in which a little light manages to break through the thickened darkness. It’s a light, a light which sends those sinister rats rustling deep into the crevices of my minds and silences those vile and piercing voices. It provides a sense of happiness, a feeling all so strange to me. Through the bitter tears and muffled whimpers, it manages to bring a sense of reassurance. And sometimes through the howled shrieks and the chewing of the rat, I could hear a tiny pleasant voice say…
This too shall pass.
The thought consumes me, flourishing like some devilish weed. No matter what I do, no matter what I say; it’s always there waiting for me. It eats and grows and eats and grows. At the back of my mind it dwells like some insidious rat, chewing and chattering within my mind. It hurts and it pains me but I cannot stop. The darkness has consumed every fiber, every limb and for the life of me I simply cannot help myself. A craving that will not go away, a fantasy that can never be fulfilled, the thought is terrifying and it is much too strong.
It started out as a pleasant thing, one I invited. There was a point that it was welcomed, even cherished. It provided a sense of comfort, a sense of belonging. Those around me thought it was better for me and a sense of happiness enveloped my body. Warm feelings embraced my soul as I felt invincible and free. It was exhilarating and new; it was difficult to imagine life without it. Things just felt better, it was brighter times. I remember laughing a lot more and having a sense of wonder towards the world. It added a sense of excitement, something that had been lacking from my life.
But then it began to burrow deep within my mind. No longer was it something that I welcomed, it had begun to turn unkind. The once amusing thoughts had turned sour and slowly began to decay. At first, it was not too bad. There were times I could and function as myself. It was not all the time that I thought about it, only when it reared its ugly head. It seemed I had more control for I managed to quell the screeches. My thoughts still held some sort of clarity and would still make common sense. Yet like the rat, it was always there still chewing and gnawing, chewing and gnawing. The constant reminder that it always had to be on my mind, that it was the most important thing. I tried to stop it and claim back control but it began to grow. With each and every day, it began to get bigger and bigger. Like a monster, it growled and hissed every time I asked it to go away. I didn’t need it anymore but it seemed like it was here to stay.
Then the voices came, the ones telling me how much I thirst for it. I begged for them to go away, to let me be. I knew that I did not need it. And yet, the little voices would whisper in my ear as I slept. The horrible screeching as they tried to get me to think about it. They were stronger at night, when everything else was silence. As I lay there, trying to conjure sleep in order to escape, I could hear their shrilled voices. It was like pins in my ear, making little cuts and causing me to bleed all over the sheets. I would squeeze my eyes and pray for other thoughts. Anything would suffice, anything was better than it. My brain raced to find something else to fixate on, but all my other memories were blurs. Nothing came to mind, nothing except for it. The little voices would not stop and tried to get me to think about it.
They pulled and tugged at me, causing me to quiver and shake. Finally, after much extorting I gave in. It flooded into my mind, but the warm feelings were gone. In its place were corrupted and foreign feelings. No longer did I feel safe or happy, but rather I felt miserable. It wore me out, the thoughts. How I needed it, how I wanted it, how my life was nothing without it; these were the thoughts that ate and tore at every part of me. They crawled like cockroaches and consumed my body. My screams for help, for salvation were drowned by the crackling of the cockroaches’ feet and the unison sound of chewing and tearing.
No matter how much I run or walk, I can’t stop thinking about it. On the streets, in lines, at the doctor’s office, it is a part of me. Nothing else seems to matter, nothing else is important. Yet, the conscious part of me begs that someone can hear me and liberate me from myself imposed prison. Perhaps by some miracle, the thoughts will go away. But it seems naïve and far-fetched as the thoughts have made a home within my mind. They serve as the dark reminder that I am not who I used to be and that person is gone. They serve as the constant reminder that I am weak and I will always need it. The thoughts swarm and fly around my mind, plunging me into darkness. There are days in which I am nothing but a zombie, victim of my morbid thoughts. There are days in which death appears to be the most pleasing option, the ultimate silence from the snarling thoughts that fill the hollowness of my mind and echoes through my body. Just absolutely silence, deep in the ground. For the thoughts are right…
I can’t stop think about it. I can’t stop wanting it. I am weak.
Yet there are those days in which a little light manages to break through the thickened darkness. It’s a light, a light which sends those sinister rats rustling deep into the crevices of my minds and silences those vile and piercing voices. It provides a sense of happiness, a feeling all so strange to me. Through the bitter tears and muffled whimpers, it manages to bring a sense of reassurance. And sometimes through the howled shrieks and the chewing of the rat, I could hear a tiny pleasant voice say…
This too shall pass.