To recover from the life you knew, the one where you were the best at all the dirty things, where people craved your presents, and you craved being wanted.
The life where the only way to feel was not to feel, where there are no tears of joy or sadness, just a never-ending emptiness that demands you to fill, and fix and fill but nothing ever works, and the hole in you grows bigger and your insides are turned out and everything hurts, but you can’t cry.
The life void of love because you can’t understand love– because you don’t love yourself, and people don’t know you so they can’t love you, and that helps you to hide. The life where you cling to numbness with white knuckles because if you let go, you may fly away, lost and alone.
The life where you want to die but can’t, and you wake up everyday afraid of the split-second thought that maybe it doesn’t have to be like this, so afraid of that thought you bash it into your arm and wash it away, but it returns and your not sure why.
To recover from this endless cycle of madness in which you are immersed and drowning, you must admit it exists and it’s only purpose is to destroy your soul and your deserved place in humanity. You must grieve for this old life and the sick comfort you believe it gave you.
You must walk toward the light and others who hold the light that will shine on your path. You must not look at your shadow in the past, taunting you to turn back with promises of numbness and nothingness which you grew to love. You must renounce the lie.
It’s okay to feel and everything you feel is okay. The new life will be full of emotions, and that is how we know we are alive. We feel. To recover from this life you knew, you must feel. There is no way around it.
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Hope Against Heroin