I had a shower thought this morning about it. Drinking was the one coping mechanism that I would get excited for. I would feel myself craving it much like a vampire craves blood. It certainly left me feeling undead; like I was a soul damned to torment. I would rush to it with open arms only to walk away from it night after night with some form of regret; and yet I didn't regret it at all. It was a strange combination. Regardless, I paid for it. Whether it was through my actions, some new form of injury, feeling physically ill, my strung-out emotions the following day or while still under the influence; whatever the case I paid for it with little to no actual benefit other than a cheap high.
This is quite the opposite. I find myself craving the feeling of microtears within my muscles and the endorphins that come with it when I finally lay myself in my own bed. It is feeling of accomplishment among many other things. I find myself getting high off of the released cortisol in a sensation that is similar to shedding tears. Perhaps that too is why I drank; to dull the pain only to finally get drunk enough to release it. -- And yet this is a different high. This hurts so much more, and yet it feels so much better. It's like the difference between listening to a song that wallows in misery and one that faces that misery for what it is with tears streaming down your face as you're forced to experience your very ego getting ripped to shreds in a display of anger, sadness, bargaining, and finally acceptance.
At the risk of sounding like Jiggles: rip me apart and reform me. I crave redemption from within. These are the first steps to the path of enlightenment.
All of this time wasted I spent looking for anything to dull my feelings; or to mask them: lovers, drugs, alcohol, sex, the internet; anything that might distract me and preferably a combination of many things all at once. The answer was staring me in the face this entire time, and I knew it was there, I just chose to ignore it; to push it to the back of my mind at times and to flaunt it at others like it somehow made it all better. The one person I needed to love me was myself.
Pain (Remastered)usedcvnt - they called me VioletThis post was edited by its author on .