domingo, 7 de diciembre de 2008


Anyone that's struggled with addiction is familiar with the psychological compensation that ensues. I feel out of control and sunken with shame when I am driven by these compulsions, so I've learned to neatly tuck that entire side of my identity into a secret little stash. I carry it with me always, but hide it with a well-honed expertise. Denial works the entire scenario on many levels:
I'm sick, it's dangerous, yes - but I recognize that. And 90% of recovery is admitting you have a problem, right? Great, so I totally recognize that. Consider me pretty much recovered! Now that I understand this illness, I can stop anytime. Just not right now. Tomorrow. Yeah, it's under control. Next Monday. Don't worry about me, really. When the semester ends. It's getting a lot better. When I turn 18. This time I'm really going to kick it! Once I fit into these pants. New Years. When I get home from this vacation. After I get a great job. My 27th birthday...
And so it goes. Until it's been ten years, and addiction is such a part of your life that you have learned to live with the nightmares, hide the physical side effects...And present, always, a healthy and happy face to the world.
Saying I want this to end is easy. It's something I've declared on numerous occasions, each time thinking all that pain would become "the old me" - and that once it was comfortably in my past I could begin to talk about it. Once there was a secure and comfortable distance between my current life and my illness, I would have the strength to share my experience.
But that doesn't work a bit. Rather than give the recover-first/talk-later approach another decade to prove itself, I want to try this: I will talk now. I will tell you everything, with perfect honesty, because there is so much comfort in anonymity. I hope, with all of my heart, that this blog works as a revelation in all senses of the word; that as I uncover I can recover.

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