If we have to talk about it, then we have to talk about everything. Or like I was told, you have to get to the bottom before we can get to the top.
Then again, I was also told that we have to hit bottom before we can stand up again. Sometimes, we have to hit rock-bottom to realize that it is time for a change.
I think that first and foremost, no one expects the worst to happen.
But the worst happens.
There is a side of our thinking that either doesn’t know, doesn’t believe or doesn’t care about the warnings and the red flags along the way. Even if we know the odds are close or the odds are against us, we tend to be swayed by such beautiful lies with hopes that somehow, this can save us.
I assume that it is safe to say that I am not the only one who has been tempted or drawn in by things like this. I am not the only one who had longshot dreams or hopes that, somehow, I could be better on the other side.
I cannot be the only one who has thought like this.
Of course not.
I am not the only one who made the wrong trades or looked to see if I could beat the odds. I have taken short cuts and quick fixes.
More than once too.
I am not the only one who has succumbed to the desire to feel good, or to feel high, or euphoric.
No way.
I’m not the only one who has lived through hard times or felt pain.
I am not alone when I say that I have lived with the awkward discomfort of self.
No, I suppose this only makes me human, if not relatable. While relatability and understanding does not clear the guilt of sin nor does this permit or forgive the wrongdoing of crimes, whether they are figurative, literal, or emotional; fact is fact, truth is truth, and at the base of it all, there are no excuses or explanations when it comes to consequences.
The bill comes at the end of the meal.
Right?
There are no free rides and there is no such thing as a free meal.
Everything comes with a cost.
These are unavoidable.
Therefore, I am accountable for me and myself. I have to be.
I can blame others and point fingers, but to what avail?
I am responsible for who I am.
I am responsible for what I’ve said or done. I am responsible for how I reacted. In the need to feel good, or when it came to the times when I needed some kind of high, or relief, or if I needed some sort of inner or outer body escape; albeit true that there were circumstances that were either beyond or within my control, the need to feel better does not cancel out the wrongs or the selfishness of an act that resulted in casualty.
This needs to be mentioned and addressed.
There is no justification nor am I here as a way of pleading my case to the jury nor am I asking for leniency or clemency. My routes of discovery to get to the bottom or to expose my bottom, so-to-speak, is not an offering of a deal nor is this a request for dispensation.
No. I hide nothing here.
I am here on a mission and a search for a better life. I am here to expose this for the voiceless few (or many) who cannot verbalize or speak out about their life or their needs to feel better.
I am here to confess, and if I am to find peace, or if I am to come to peace with my past, or if I am to find ways to resolve my trauma and to resolve my errors and diseased thinking; and yes, if I am to repair my tainted belief system, then I have to bear all.
I have to confess everything and expose myself here.
If I am to rid myself of anything, then I have to realize the symptoms of thinking errors and cognitive mistakes.
I have to search for this. I have to unearth and dig up the root of my challenges which, of course, is all a mindset or a way of thinking.
I have openly disclosed the items of my past in previous posts. I have published my history in journals, and I have been mentioned for this in different publications.
I have been called an advocate. But this is not written as an advocate for anyone but me.
I have been here before.
However, there is always a need for improvement.
There will always be times when we come into different stages of awareness and there will be moments that come to light when at least we hear things differently.
We will experience different levels of understanding and if I am to be at my best, then there are times when it is necessary to go back to the beginning.
Trauma—
This is what happens when we live through, see, or experience an unfortunate event. This can be something as simple as hurt feelings because someone didn’t get their way or this can be deep and bigger.
This can come from a moral injury; whereas there are times when we experience tragedy that contradicts the natural order of the way life is supposed to be, which lead our memories to collect in the ductwork and compartments of our thinking. Hence, this is where the doubt system triggers our disbelief.
This is where biases come from. This is where the worry station builds the wall which we hope can protect us from future invasions or insults. But life comes at us from different angles and although we try to protect ourselves, there will always be an unseen flank and opening for more damage
Trauma—
This can be a result of verbal abuse. This can be a result of physical or sexual abuse. This can lead to the stress of anxious fears which come after moments of an assumed abandonment.
Trauma can be the result of memory, regardless of whether the memories are accurate or false and regardless of facts, trauma can be wrong, but trauma is always real.
I understand all of this.
I understand the remnants of unfortunate experiences, which were not my fault. To be clear, I know this is not my fault.
But this is an intellectual observation.
Emotionally, the mind goes off in a different direction.
I understand that bullies have their own pathology. I understand that while neglect or emotional abuse might not have been intended, marks are left, scars do not always heal, and as for healing, the need for comfort and reparation and the hope of finding a relief or with an urge to find an appealing absence of thought, I can understand why the desire to remove weight and to feel absolutely weightless is more than just attractive.
Euphoria is only a destination. However, there are many vehicles that lead us here.
To be clear, euphoria is not a bad place to be, and neither is the desire to feel high or euphoric.
In fact, I call this a need.
I say this is a need, the same as food, water, and air.
I say we all need an exit or a moment of relief. We all need to blow off steam, or in the presence of discomfort, or sadness, or especially in the moment of disheartening or unsatisfied life, it makes sense to have the need to want to feel better—even if the vehicle might be imperfect, in the end, we all want to feel better.
It would be inaccurate to blame others for my thoughts or feelings. I cannot blame the world for my emotions or my hardships — even in cases where I was hurt or if I was broken or beaten; I cannot blame anyone for my choices, at least not with a clear heart.
Sure, I’ve been hurt. I have experienced bouts of exposure and shame.
I know about humiliation, and I have endured abuse of all kinds.
I have allowed myself to be a product of my past to the extent where I have allowed my past history to act as an excuse to justify my need to feel good.
But this has to stop.
At the same time, I would like to tell you that short-lived highs or cheap and quick fixes are only useful in temporary measures.
Short highs only last a short while. Thus, in the absence of euphoria, we become accustomed to the ideas that no high lasts very long, which in turn, or in my situation, I never believed in the length of anything good.
I never believed that anyone stayed or said what they meant or meant what they said.
Perhaps, this kind of thinking can be terminal.
I believed that all good things come to an end.
I never believed in true love or that if there was such a thing. I never believed that someone like me could have this — and if, or in the rare event that I was granted the momentary bliss of someone who felt perfect to me, or if I was to be allowed the experience of someone’s beauty, I never assumed or believed that highs like this were real. I never believed that people stay or work together to work thing out. I certainly never believed that anything “this good” could last forever.
At least, not for someone like me.
By the way, this is the reason behind this journal.
This is why I have chosen to get to the bottom of things.
And why, you ask?
My trauma would answer you like this—
If I were so great or so special, or if I were so deserving of love or good things, then why would people with titles in my life or those who had loving positions or why would those who are supposed to show that they love me the most, show me that they cared the least?
If I were so great, then why would someone touch a child in such a way that not only changes them, but damages their heart and poisons their belief system about who they are and what they are worth?
If I were so worthy, then why would things like this happen to me?
If I was so good or special, or beautiful, then why was I bullied?
Why was I hit?
Why was I always stuck in the belief that I was less than, or ugly?
If I was so deserving of you or your love, or if I am supposed to believe that I am perfectly imperfect as I am, then why do I automatically assume that love is only short-lived but ultimately, why would I believe the darkness of lies over the brilliance of truth?
Why would I assume all the harsh criticisms about me are true?
Why would I assume that every positive word about me is false?
This is what trauma does.
Do you know what else this does?
This is part of what sabotages good things. This hurts other people who had nothing to do with previous crimes or offenses of the heart.
This locks the mind into a belief system that, in the end, people who love you will betray you, hurt you, and leave you. This is the thought system that leads to a belief that the people closest to you will expose your weakest values to the world. Are there friends in this world?
Of course, there are. But trauma leads us to believe otherwise.
Fear of pain and sadness or fear of the lonely deaths or dying alone or being somewhere, undiscovered until the stink hits the hallway are real fears of mine.
And shame?
Well . . .
I liken this to a time when I pissed my pants in the second grade at school in the cafeteria—everyone laughed at me. And I have more occasions like this.
Many more.
I know shame all too well.
I understand the ideas of being inefficient. I understand the beliefs of inability and more, I fully understand the fear of being alone for the reason that no matter what I do, where I go, where I live, and no matter how successful or rich I may be, trauma is the idea that leads me to the poor beliefs that I will never be valued, wanted, appreciated, or given the right to be happy.
So yeah, I got high.
I used any vehicle I could to feel better.
Some of them were deadly. And some were even deadlier because as good as I felt, I never believed in the truth that someone or something can be so good or so beautiful that I assumed, naturally, as soon as they knew me, they would leave me
I never thought that the one thing that made sense to me would turn on me the way it did.
This is what I mean about choosing the right vehicle to find peace or to feel better.
I have chosen poorly before.
But this stops here.
By the way, no one thinks the bad things will happen to them. No one expects the worst.
No, I suppose we think that we can dodge the bullets and weave around the landmines.
But wait . . .
Why?
Why would I confess these things?
Why would anyone read this and see me as desirable? Why would I expose these things and expect anyone to view me as anything more than defective?
Would it be safer to keep my mouth shut?
Wouldn’t it be better to hide myself?
Or would it better to stuff this down so deep that my real fears and pain would never see the light of day?
Wouldn’t something like this expose me as unfixable or broken?
Who would love someone like this?
(Like me?)
I understand why this would come out as sad.
But no.
I’m not sad.
I’m at the bottom and working my way back to the top, which has nothing to do with anyone else.
Everyone talks about getting high or the need to be high.
And everyone talks about their vehicle to find euphoria.
But I don’t.
Euphoria is a great place.
However, I understand that there are ways to achieve this without using the slick or the bullshit lies.
I can see this now.
There is a way to find a better level of a long-term bliss. There is a place of balance or homeostasis, like a balance amongst the systems around us.
This is real too.
Just as real as the quick fixes and the beautiful lies we have invested in before.
I have done what I did and get what I got.
I say this as a slang gesture to prove my point.
But what I had was never enough to last me more than a momentary or temporary fix.
That’s the problem with quick fixes or using the cheating moments, which we selfishly used, just to grab a moment of resurrection or to find a moment of fake salvation—even if the moment is fleeting or just a lie because, at least we had that minute.
Like I said before, beautiful lies are a lot more attractive than hard and ugly truths.
This is why we run away with them — because they’re easier to believe, even if we know (deep down) the beauty is fake, fake beauty can be easier to swallow than ugly truths.
No?
You can’t run forever.
But we try.
You can’t pretend forever either.
But we try that as well.
And as for the beautiful lies, well?
They become the ugliest and most hurtful truths of all.
This is what happens in the world of dishonesty and quick fixes.
But here’s the caveat and the silver-lining:
When we come to find that there is nowhere left to fall and when we are at the bottom of our consequences, at least we can find a way to get back up and learn.
We can heal, which is not to say that the fall did not hurt and that the pain will go away quickly,
But, if we dare enough to be honest, and if we face the terms, we can rebuild our life.
And more, we can find a better vehicle and a better source of peace. Preferably, we can find a high and choose a real life that is filed with honest euphoria.
Even when times are tough, or when we are at our lowest, we have to look around and realize that we are the best we have ever been, and that above all, life really is a beautiful place.
We have to find an “out.”
We all need a place of relief that is not quick or selfish.
And when we do, then . . .
Love will be real.
The highs will be unending.
The right people will be there when they promise
and life will never be a lie again.
I swear!
The Written Addiction 