I've tried to write this post several times now. I keep trying to say exactly what it is that I feel and outline, in a general sense, the reasons for my absence. Either my words don't seem up to the task or I chicken out at the last minute and delete it. There is a definite narcissistic quality to my writing this, as perhaps I have deluded myself into thinking that there are those who would care enough about me (or at least the me that they know) to care what is happening in my life. On the other hand, my primary motivation for writing this is really to dispel any worry or wonder on the off chance that someone actually does care. Secondly, it is my humble wish that, maybe, possibly, something that I have to say might be able to offer someone else some hope or some insight if they are in a similiar situation.
I am an addict. Four simple words, yet to me they carry so much weight. I haven't been able to don them for the past several years, even know the better part of myself knew I should have. The guilt. The shame. The secrecy. The desire and repeated attempts to stop my compulsivity. It was all there, and in retrospect it should have set alarm bells off in my head. Maybe it did, and I just didn't listen. I had become adept at the art of lying to myself. Whenever I thought I might need help, I could rationalize my behavior to make it okay. When I tried to stop and found I could not, I could lie to myself to make it normal. An addict is not compelled to face his or her addiction until it becomes life threatening - in other words, one has to hit bottom before one realizes where they are. I am an addict, and I have hit bottom.
If I had to describe the bottom in a word, that word would be paradox. It is the worst place that I have ever been. I had to lose a lot to get there. My girlfriend. Graduate school. My job. My independence. My reputation. I might still lose my freedom. I hit the bottom, and I hit it hard. I remember the exact moment when the lies that I told myself no longer made any sense. I remember when the denial could no longer push away the reality that was staring me in the eyes, when the rationalization didn't make it okay anymore: I was laying on a cot in the hallway of a detention center, contemplating ways that I could take my own life. Had there been a knife, gun, or bottle of pills readily available, I don't think I would be writing these words. Thankfully, the detention center doesn't leave knives, guns, or pills laying around.
The bottom is also the best place that I have ever been. I didn't realize that then, wanting desperately to die and convinced my life was over. But now that some time has passed I realize that I have gained a lot, as well. I was convinced that my parents and my friends would disown me if they knew about what I did behind closed doors and in the shadows. I knew that I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror if I admitted my problems and sought help for them. I knew the best thing for me to do was to just keep it a secret and never admit it, not even to myself. I found out, at the bottom, that I couldn't of been more wrong. When you believe something so strongly for so long, and you believe it primarily out of fear and shame, and you find out you were wrong...well it's about as close to a religious experience as I get.
I realize now that this is not the end of my life. To paraphrase Churchill, this is not the end of the end, nor is this the beginning of the end, but this may very well be the end of the beginning. I know now that I need help, and I am getting that help. The road is a long one, and I've just taken the first step. It's taken me several years to get to where I am now, and I know it's going to take at least as long to get back. I don't think it's going to be easy. Even in these past couple of weeks I find myself continually humbled at the strength and the pervasiveness of my addiction and how it really has touched every area of my life. But I think, I believe that it can be done. Like I said, the road is long. Maybe it ends, and maybe it doesn't. That's not important, however. What is important, at least in my estimation, is that I continue to put one foot in front of the other one. That is all that I can do.
I thank you for reading this. Hopefully someone reading this can take something away from it. If not, then at least I hope this clears up any questions about my absence or allays any concerns about me. If not that, then at least I hope it was entertaining and well-written (though I know it wasn't).
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