As someone who is in recovery, I have come across many gifted writers who don’t believe in the power of their own talent. I would like to challenge all of you. If you are someone who has battled with addiction, I want you to write about it. I would like to read your stories, anecdotes, and poems. When I was in the throws of active addiction, my disease led me into some very dark places of my soul. I did two years in prison, and it was during that time I got in touch with that darkness. I used those feelings of agony and turmoil to write, and purge it from me. For the next couple of days I am going to share my thoughts, experiences, poems, and excerpts. I encourage anyone else who is in recovery, to share with us. We would all love to hear from you. You never know, your words may help another suffering addict.
This is from my diary when I was incarcerated– September 17, 2013 : They keep asking me. What does it feel like? I began to think about how to explain. Picture yourself in freezing, icy rain. Frigid. Dark. Wind, the kind that stings your face, seeps into your bones like cancer, and hurts your feelings for its sheer relentlessness…Now come in out of that black stormy rain and into the comfort of your warm home, where a blazing fire already crackles in the fireplace. Get dry and warm and safe. Lie down in front of that inviting fire. Allow your lover to wrap his strong arms around you and make the sweetest love of your life, right there in the comfort and glow of those flames. Multiply your bliss by any number of your choice…you are just beginning to scratch the surface of what heroin feels like. It is however, a sad way to live. Once you have experienced this ecstasy, everything else in life becomes a cheap trick. Nothing else ever feels as good.You walk around like a zombie, just waiting for the next thing that will make you feel that way. When you finally get clean, it’s like trying to heal from a broken heart. That crack, that break eventually scars and the pain isn’t so deep, but it never fully recovers. You find things that replace it, but no love, ever again, is quite as fulfilling. You aren’t necessarily unhappy now, just sort of, indifferent.
I read that today, for the first time since I’ve moved back to Texas. February 2016 was four years that I have been clean. I have come a long way since I wrote that. My life has progressed into something so content and gratifying, so joyous beyond anything I could have ever imagined when I wrote that journal entry and I am grateful every day that I did not give up. Thank you for reading, and I will post some poems tomorrow that are a little darker. Next week we’ll go back to the usual writing tips and prompts. So come on! Don’t be shy. Share your experience, strength, and hope.