Addiction
I spent a couple of years of my early 20′s addicted to things. I have a genetic disposition to this disease, which is by no means an excuse, just an explanation for my addictive personality.
I find it interesting that there are so many different “types” of addiction. I tend to think one has addiction, or they don’t. Though, we can change addictions or combine them into fun new terrible things. For instance, I can be addicted to alcohol (most frequently), sex, love, the feeling of falling in love, cutting, drugs, the ache of hunger, etc. I think someone who has addiction, tends to follow whatever feels the best at that moment, until it stops feeling so great, then it’s on to the next one or time to add in a new one.
Other than my family, everything that I have ever loved had a shelf life. Some things and people, I’ve held onto for years, but I inevitably run out of fascination and end up frantically searching for the next thing. I also tend to mix addictions as often as possible. Typically, the love addiction comes hand in hand with another one, whether a shot of tequila, a knife digging into my thigh, or a powder that burns holes in my nose. Usually, this main addiction is to a man who will drain everything from my soul.
I received 20 emails from my most recent ex-boyfriend today. The one I lived with way too soon, in an apartment neither of us could afford. The one who screamed at me on the street on my birthday. When he punched me in the back while I was sleeping, I finally figured out how to get out. Today, when I saw his name in my inbox, I got jittery, I stopped working, and just watched as the emails kept flooding in. I felt high. I wanted to see him. My reaction to this was pretty eye opening. It may be clear to you, but I’m starting to think that the reaction I have toward feeling loved is not normal. Or maybe I’ve never felt love.
I used to go to grave sites when I was little and make sketches of the grave stones in the back, the ones that hadn’t had visitors in years. I wanted the people to know they would never be forgotten. I’ve always been afraid of ending up there. No one wants that. An addict wants to feel like they are living their life as attractively as possible. We want the guest list at our funeral to be endless. It’s the same shitty cycle. We never want to die so we never fully live. In our desperation to feel anything, we break everything. When we try to grasp for love, we cling to the wrong kind. For me, that is the worst addiction, to feeling the wrong kind of love. Sometimes I think the other vices are just band-aids.
Professional Driver, Closed Course 