Addicted

Once I was addicted to rage, I struggled to get it out of my bloodstream. Time and time again, I fought back real hard to stop the urge to strike and lash out real hard. I was boiling, I was on fire. The pain of life is massive. The emotional pain is ruthless, so much that when it subsides, I go seeking it. My mind and heart struggles to accept that pain can even subside.

At that moment, I realized I was emotionally attached to pain, to fighting and to being thoughtless. I longed for rehab, I long for a treatment therapy, fix me up I’m broken pills, but they did not work. The only was through it is to sit in the gashes. Sit, my mind commanded. Sit in it. Don’t move. I knew my better elf was so disappointed in me. My despicable self was satisfied. My despicable self felt relieved of my pain because I know I’m addicted.

This was the fork I stood in once again. Feelings of sadness, shame and fear pulsed in every corner of my body. I felt utterly overwhelmed. You’re out of control, you’re obsessed my logic warned. Calm down. Breathe. You can handle this and more. Trust yourself to speak thoughtfully and guide your children. It will be okay. Breathe.

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