The Good Girl Addict vs. Reality


Hands down, this has been true of my life experiences. Everything I have been through has in some way, felt like either Too Fucking Much or Never, Ever Enough. Where did the happy medium go? Whatever happened to balance? Sometimes I think that I never learned how to balance. I never learned to pace myself.

Once I found something that helped me feel less unsure, less lost, less neglected that was it. I wanted that thing over and over. I would consistently search for whatever high I had managed to find the previous time. I felt alive when I could feel that high. It awakened a need within me and I began an endless search for something else to make me feel like my life was worth something.

A sugar high from candy when I was growing up; the very first signs of my addictive personality. Or when I was in my early 30s, it might be a self-esteem high from winning the temporary and extremely drunken affections of a stranger in my bed. Feeling a man’s body poised over mine, about to enter me gave me a thrill I didn’t think was possible.

And nowadays I’m chasing the perfect floaty, fizzy, tipsy feelings of my 3rd or 4th glass of wine. I feel giggly, worthwhile, sexy and exciting when the wine is invading my bloodstream. I feel tremendously invincible. I don’t feel like anything bad will happen for maybe 15 minutes and then reality inevitably pokes her head through the curtain to remind me that it’s almost bedtime because I’m an adult and I have responsibilities and I have things I have to do other than drink and fuck and eat.

Sometimes I’m glad to hear from reality. Sometimes I’m grateful that I still remember to keep my head on straight and to keep my shit together. Most times actually. More and more as of late I would rather have a clear head. But sometimes I don’t want to fucking hear it from her anymore. Reality is such a bitch and she always wins. No matter what. Sometimes I just want to stay and stay and stay in the haze of floaty, fizzy and tipsy until I forget where I’ve been and who I am becoming. But the longer I stay the more dangerous it will become. Addiction is progressive. Alcoholism is progressive. Over time, you start to need more and more than you used to just to feel a slight, tiny, miniscule buzz. As the great sage and eminent junkie Axl Rose once sang, ‘I used to do a little but a little wouldn’t do it so the little got more and more. I just keep trying to get a little better, said a little better than before.’

This shit is real. This addiction is happening. It has been for most of my life. But I swear to God, the more I talk about it here, the more I know someone else is reading what I have to say, the less this fucking rope around my neck is squeezing the life out of me. It’s loosening. It’s beginning to slip. And I couldn’t be more grateful for that.

Thank you for reading. Whoever you are. Thank you.

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