I scoffed when they told me how addicting it could be.
“Balderdash!” I exclaimed. I knew I could stop whenever I wanted. Only weenies and wimps get truly addicted.
My first taste didn’t do much for me. I honestly didn’t even see what the big deal was. I chugged along though, giving it the chance I thought it truly deserved. It was so easy. I could do it whenever I wanted.
The itch started on Day 4. It was slight at first; a tic here, a longing there. The first time I ran out, I wasn’t sure what to do. I tried to write. I tried to watch TV. All I could think about was IT. As the days passed and I soothed the itch here and there, I slowly began to realize that my friends were right. I was addicted, just as they said I would be. The addiction coursed through my veins like a raging river.
I couldn’t stop. Instead of getting better, I spiraled down into the abyss of addiction. It was all I could think about. The wait between hits was unbearable. There were times I didn’t think I could wait the few hours before I could get more. I sought out friends to help my supply. Before long, I had my boyfriend addicted as well.
I count down the minutes until I can do it again. As I write this, I anxiously watch the clock …
25 minutes …
24 minutes …
23 minutes …
What am I going to do?
I’ve tried to stop. I’ve tried to fill my mind and my time with the things I used to do instead of IT. It works for a while but I know how long it takes before I can get more and I’m always right back where I was in a few hours time.
It is now Day 13 and the addiction is not going away. To make matters worse, I have even found something to fill the gaps between hits in order to soothe the withdrawal. They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. Well, I know I have a problem but what if I don’t want it to go away? What if I like the addiction?
What will happen to me if I can never stop?
I’m over with the awesome peeps at Yeah Write!
Come join us!