addiction

The realities of addition; the truth about living under, above and beyond the influence of drugs and alcohol.

Addiction only dies in heaven
Smoking. An addiction worse than cocaine itself yet so readily available everywhere you turn. The first time I tried smoking cigarettes, I was 13 years old. My dad, who chain smoked on a daily, made me roll his cigarettes for him every time he needed new packs. I was forced to sit at the kitchen table for as long as it took. Sometimes he needed 2 packs and others, six. After a while, I got curious. They were such a big part of my brother and I's lives, I wondered why. My parents loved to leave me in charge of babysitting while they left until late at night to go play bingo. One of those nights, I rolled a pack. For myself. Of course, I got my brother involved, who was 2 years younger than me, so that he wouldn't rat me out. We pocketed the pack, found a lighter and went outside for a walk. In the darkness, we lit a cigarette and sucked on it like we had seen our parents do day in and day out. We didn't realize we had to inhale the smoke, but we felt cool. Eventually, I got ratted out by my cousin and was told to eat one of the cigarettes I had rolled as a punishment. I didn't. I got dishes for life instead.
By Michelle5 years ago in Psyche
Destructive Addiction
One particular friend I have, has a regular habit of hopping on Facebook and liking the inspirational and motivational photo quotes that I post my profile each day. He's been battling with depression, and was very appreciative of some of the messages I would post to help him think positive, focus on his happiness, and improve his mindset. Over the past week or so though, I noticed that he had stopped doing so, plus I also noticed that he stopped posting anything on his own profile also, so I became a little concerned. I took the opportunity to direct message him, just to check in on him and make sure he was okay. Thankfully, all was good with him, and he's actually away enjoying himself on a holiday, which is great news. He did mention to me though, that he had indeed stopped posting content, and liking my quotes, because he has taken it upon himself to withdraw from engaging in social media, in a bid to protect his mental health. He had been the subject of constant judgement, criticism, and harassment, from many of his so called friends and associates, whilst also being tired with the lack of support, care, compassion, and understanding, of his current health situation. Upon hearing this, I could totally resonate with what he was saying. I, myself, once posted opinions, beliefs, views, and personal feelings on my Facebook profile, and I too, would get criticized, judged, and harassed, also by my friends and even family members. A couple of years ago, I realized just how toxic social media really can be. Whilst everybody is entitled to an opinion, and also entitled to share it on social media, no one has the right to criticize, belittle, harass, bully, and demean, anyone else for their opinion, whether it may be right or wrong! It's why I made the decision to not post opinions, beliefs, or even anything with no substance or purpose, any longer, and instead, I have just been sharing uplifting and beneficial quotes.
By David Stidston5 years ago in Psyche
Late Night Walks
This is something that I experienced and wrote about in the winter of 2017, after having just gotten out of my first stay at St Josephs Institue (which is an inpatient rehab) about two months prior. I was staying at a halfway house right next to downtown Rochester, and I would frequently explore downtown late at night when I could not sleep. This is one of those moments, that for whatever reason, stuck with me.
By Jake Fortin5 years ago in Psyche
All For Nothing
My life was ruled by an invisible force, a killer that was silent in it’s taking of innocent souls. I was consumed by the emptiness it provided to my mind. The ability to forget about the world around me as my mind was consumed by the comforting darkness. I never saw myself being the type to allow my will to be taken so easily. Though iIt calls to me as though a siren to a sailor, clinging to the mess of a mind that I now hold to my name.
By Jaianna Johnson5 years ago in Psyche
Blackness is Greatness
Bianca has helped me as a YouTube curly hair influencer in several ways. 1. Given me confidence in my natural beauty and style
By Tanisha Robinson5 years ago in Psyche
A Gambler's Remorse
A Gamblers Remorse “Oh my God, I can’t believe I did it again. Oh no”, Lisa thought to herself. It was at that very moment she realized she had both won and lost over twenty thousand dollars. Her heart dropped to her stomach and she instantly felt numb. The slot machines at the casino were lit brighter than New York Times Square on a Saturday night. No longer could Lisa hear the chimes, chings, rings, whistles, bells, or laughter she had enjoyed just moments ago. She was stuck in a trance until she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Judy, the cocktail waitress. “This one is on me”, said Judy. Lisa grabbed the glass of white moscato offered to her and drank it rapidly. Immediately Lisa felt embarrassed because she knew Judy was all too familiar with the face of defeat.
By Tarika Walker5 years ago in Psyche
Sobriety Timeline and Milestones
”Where do I start?” is one of the many questions I see in articles, forums and online communities nowadays from people looking for help in trying to navigate their own way through recovery from drug addiction and alcohol abuse. I began my journey at the age of 19 and am coming up on 9 years completely sober from alcoholism and poly-substance abuse. These are my experiences, in a timeline fashion, to help shed some light on how and when things progressed for me and hopefully answer some of those questions for others!
By Jordan Crowley5 years ago in Psyche
Yellow and Whites
She believed one of those little yellow and whites would change the tide for her as well her generations to come. If only she could win. If only those five white balls would descend with the right red one coming after. She would squirrel away single tips, change in a little mason jar, and would pick up every lost coin she stumbled upon. Because who knew? It only took a few dollars to change her story. She would buy from the grocery store, from the little convenient store on the corner, and even an app when only download guaranteed two free tickets. Right when she was on the precipice of giving up, of ridding herself of this silly dream, of this silly hope, she would hit. $2 here. $4 there. Once a $20 ticket yielded $17. A score that would drag her back down into the thick of it. She convinced herself it was innocent. Just a few bucks here, just a few bucks there. She didn’t smoke, she gave up drinking, so why couldn’t she have this one vice? One was normal and two were a problem, right? And if she won, it would all be worth it. An investment. Yes, an investment. But every loss stung. It felt as if though God, if there was one was disappointed as hell and Satan was dancing all around her. Or perhaps the other way around. Through the insistence of innocence, she could not quite shake off that damned burning sensation that would creep up her neck as she shoved those dollars into the machine, as she could not quite make eye contact with the gas station clerk every time she asked for her fix. That creeping shame to it all that she would chase away as she stuffed those small, square papers into her pocket. Yet, it always came back. All in time.
By Jess Mason5 years ago in Psyche
The Empty Man
It was the foliage that drew me to those apartments. The view through the large white gate to the main building was like looking into some exotic palace's courtyard. The driveway tiled in red and canopied in green created an illusion of beauty that the dilapidated buildings couldn't muster autonomously. Our home was the first apartment to the left. It wasn't anything special. In unification with the heavy air brought in from the ocean, a large wooden armoire engendered the mildew that perfumed the air inside. A black trash bag fastened with duct tape replaced the glass in the window over the kitchen counter. It didn't matter how rigorously I scrubbed the small bathroom. It never met the clean standard that my home in the United States had set.
By Alexi Hastings 5 years ago in Psyche
Lady Luck
Stepping into the betting shop, the familiar scent of cheap carpet and despair didn't stand a chance to the renewed hope that had come to inhabit Jasper. He couldn't help but think that this was a sign. This was his chance to turn things around, why else would that had happened? Earlier in the day he had received an email from Laura in accounting informing him that payroll had made a mistake and that he had been paid £20,000 this month instead of his regular £2,000. She had apologised for the inconvenience and assured him that this would be corrected on Monday morning. It had always been easy for Jasper to see connections and patterns in anything that supported his urges. Gambling was one of them. Growing up in a family that ran a horse breeding business hadn't created the healthiest environment for his disposition, however even then, Jasper was convinced that it had all been for a reason.
By Maria Vulfovitch5 years ago in Psyche
The End of the Rainbow
Hands are the most revealing of all body parts: they might not leak with emotion, like one’s eyes; they might not melt into grey and fall with age, like one’s hair. In contrast, they are a reflection of every moment in one’s life, holding memories of dances and fights, affection and war, love and labour.
By Alfie Saunders5 years ago in Psyche
This Time, Four Days In
Vertigo. Stomach upset. Lightheadedness. And a feeling that I’m stuck in a “damned if I do, damned if I don’t” mode. I haven't “enjoyed” my usual nightly schooners of wine in four days. I decided that I want to take a break. Note, I didn’t say “quit,” as I only set myself up for failure when I make such pronouncements. I’m hoping some of you understand this.
By Sherry McGuinn5 years ago in Psyche