My Addiction Story and the Path to freedom

There I am, a teen little girl with no life within–dead to loneliness, living in heavy hearted dung, despite the multitude within.
But I had a companion. Yes, he came to me as a lover and best friend; and I laid down my life for it. Addiction became a great distiller of anger, heaviness and pain, sadness and boredom alike. I had rage issue, I had bruises in heart, I had a weak dried eyes, too faded to shed more tears. I had so many options at my disposal—brandy, food, exotic scenes and images or chats. Smoking and sniffing were two other options that didn’t prevail, but others had me to the tip of their fingers with that pretty tiny voice telling me which one to use and my weakened self had no choice than dance to the tune of that voice.

 
First and major was food. Every single day I have a battle to fight, so that voice comes around, to push me into the kitchen, “Come on,” it will say, “the kitchen is open, delicious meal in the pot. Dish and eat; throw the remaining trash of you on the bed and sleep, and all your pain will flee.” Do I have option? No! I’d cowardly obey, to my disappointment. When I wake up, the heaviness comes back, yet I found huge pleasure eating to stupor and vomiting all afterwards.

 
Next option, brandy. When heaviness chokes me like smoke in enclosed room, brandy becomes the only best and this happens repeatedly. I was limited to brandy as it was the smallest size I could smuggle into the house so that no one notices, but when I go out I took great pleasure in “Spirit” and Blossom” along with others despite the fact that alcohol is a huge enemy to my system.

 
At a point, I became voyeuristic, deriving pleasure and soothing relieve from romantic scenes, nude images, erotic chats and stories. As soon as I immerse myself into any of these, it feels like a cool water from spring poured upon a burning coal, my brain springs to full alertness, goosebumps all over and immediately, my heaviness flee. I’m alive but unfortunately, not for a while. That’s why I’m addicted. During this period, Hollywood and Telemundo were my down-to-earth favorite movie station because they never cease to show at least one erotic scene. The two other media for me were romance novel—though I never owned one but would sneak and ready my sister’s or log on to Facebook to initiate an erotic chat.

And then, the last but not the least—self hurt or sadistic addiction. This escapist overwhelms me in public. Where the kitchen is out of reach, brandy is far away and no erotic scene or image to watch, I feel this compulsion to inflict pain on myself in form of pinching, hitting, tapping or slapping until at least a mark or drip of blood escapes. I found pleasure in all these. They were great opium and still the best demons.
I struggled, I fought had to let go and all fell in futility. I made countless commitments to stop to no avail. Addiction is like super glue, once you open the door for it, it sticks and to let go, you will exhaust almost all your resources. Jean Kilbourne described more when she said that “Addiction begins with the hope that something ‘out there’ can instantly fill up the emptiness inside.” You feel alcohol, or junks, or sex, gambling or nicotine can give you that immediate boost to perform, or relieve you from that heaviness, emptiness or boredom, I beg you to please try another alternative, a more positive one at that because when you take a drink, the drink takes more drink and then the drink takes you—takes your ability to live life to the fullest without depending on anything, takes your ability to think straight and positive, takes your ability to live comfortably and form a healthy relationship and worst or all, addiction takes your ability to live and maintain a healthy life.
Looking back today, all I could do is smile in awe. My winning was a result of constant struggle and not giving up and my 5 blockbuster techniques: Accept my you have a problem; admit it’s effect on you; align your life goals and value to this effect; engage in the super power; consult a professional for help. I hope to shed more light on these in my subsequent posts.

Author: Beatrice Mokwunye
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