Addicted

I lose a piece of me every time I find myself succumbed to the immediate forged feeling of weight being torn from my shoulders. Deemed a damsel in distress as you manipulate the belief that you are what I need to live; you are the reason I breath, you are my function, I am yours.

I’ve only dreamt of a life where you’ve unlatched your arrest. When the sun is up, I am what they assume normal, I’m not dependent of the redundant. When the sun is down, it feels like how I’d imagine the loss of a limb. And when I lay in awe at the desperate emotion of wanting you back just moments after wanting you gone – anxiety screams aloud at the hope I can keep you away. To not long after feel your presence fill the unbearable gap I so desperately wanted left unfilled. One step forward, two steps back.

Seconds turn into minutes, and minutes quickly escape to hours before I realise I’m lost. Lost like a teenager experiencing their first loss of friendship, though I wish it were that simple to find my way back through life’s labyrinth. For at this time of my life, I unconsciously dodge its street signs as if I’m a veteran to bouncing back from struggle. I’ve been so consumed obeying to you, that the ember left of my confidence which had continued to flicker for so long, now blends in with the darkness you hold over me.

Some nights I lay awake, holding the pieces of my broken self you so kindly return – though somewhat unrecognisable of their original state. I know I don’t want these pieces back, they’re merely a reminder of the dire consequences I’m left with when my weakness prevails. They’re like an unwanted souvenir that must be kept to please another.

I’m inclined to see the best in another, and I’m pretty sure I can blame this for the reason I’m so oblivious to the bad. I’ve watched you tear me straight in half, taking the best of me and leaving the rest for the one’s that care the most. Yet I look for ways to defend your actions as if it’s you that has the best intentions for myself. I tend to live in a state of denial when it comes to you, for you have made yourself my other half, with an illusion that you are the only one that can pick me up when I am down.

Your lifestyle doesn’t approve of who I aspire to be. And for this I am afraid to be truly me, because somewhere along the line you’ve convinced me to be someone else. Someone I don’t like, someone I don’t recognise, someone so slowly turning into you.

There are days where I barely have the energy to breath, because the rest of it has been stolen by you. There are moments where I would prefer to leave this earth, though when that ember prevails during the moments I’m able to briefly push you aside – it lights up the faces of those who’ve been trekking through that labyrinth, refusing to leave the side I’m often so unaware still exists. Travelling further than my peripheral allows, I’m blinded of their presence while suffocated by your embrace.

I can finally see who you are, your true self was blinded by your impeccable ability to make your existence seem worthy. Though that doesn’t mean your mind games will no longer fool me, for you’ve made yourself a part of me, and only time will numb the need of your presence. I’m aware my heart will now always work at a different beat, though as I push you further and further into the distance, it will move closer to its former self, just full of lessons and new strengths.

Not knowing when I will again collapse to your restraint, watching all progress stolen at the turning of a page is what scares me immensely. It’s what makes me realise how much power you’ve stolen from me. And although there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not tempted by your allure, I am determined to steal it right back.

– Haylee x

There is something each and every one of us has that makes this life temporarily easier. Whether it be a person, drugs, just anything good or bad – I believe we’re all addicted to something that has the ability to numb life’s hurdles. You’re not alone.