Ambivalent Addict
December 12, 2015
When I started it was fun, and I thought I was doing it for the same reasons, as everybody else.
But it took me further away, showing me the places, I want to stay. As it took hold, I saw so many side doors to slide through.
I discovered new ways of never coming back.
My home slowly morphed into wherever I could find my high.
And now I know, I can’t stop looking.
Which gives you permission to stare, and look down at me; just another loser in YOUR head. Go ahead, pat yourself on the back: despite all the heinous stuff you have done.
At least you aren’t a desperate addict.
Did you know that your drug only gives you a fun night, you can barely remember?
And my drug fills an emptiness, an escalating echo, since the beginning. That thing you merely play with is the same thing that keeps me alive. Or at least bridges my gaps between my secret identities.
I always wanted to enjoy life in its natural habitat: I wanted to be just like you. But when I tried to ride your way, I could never find a balancing point. My equilibrium always makes the stress feel wild. I’m not lost: I just never really knew where I was going in your society. I have never been in first place.
All messy lines are quickly crossed out of the Rat Race.
Once I’m alone, my best friends call: green, white, needles, pills. They put masks over my face and mind, illustrating all the mixed up versions of me.
The preparations: every grind, every tap feels more comfortable, more familiar. It’s me, spinning my internal broken record.
And suddenly my shame is swallowed whole in a chemical cage of my choosing. Then permission to avoid it all, until tomorrow: and maybe the tomorrow after that.
I try, I fail, I feel, I use. I guess I’m addicted to the lifestyle.
There is always some comfort, when you know what is going to come next. You hope that which goes down, can always, even temporarily, be brought back up. You hope over time uncured pain eventually just hurts itself.
These dark emotions are barely acknowledged by my connections, supposed to be there for me, but lost themselves. Pursuing narcissistic opportunities of superficiality and success, over feeling and intoxicated reflection. When I pour my pain into them, it always spills over, and they despise getting stained.
So that is why I use the drugs.
It’s the only way I can feel limitless,
when everything,
all around me,
is ticking.
And I can feel it closing in.
Simon Trepel, MD
Simon Trepel, MD FRCPC, is a practicing Child and Adolescent Psychiatrist, in Winnipeg, Canada. He is an Assistant Professor, at the University Of Manitoba, in the Faculty of Medicine, and the Co-founder of the GDAAY Clinic. He is, more importantly, the proud Father of 2 beautiful Daughters. He writes in his spare time about things he knows something about, and occasionally about things he doesn’t; like Yoga, and Italian flavored coffees. This post was not autobiographical, in case you were wondering.
Check out his Blog, called Simon Says Psych Stuff, at
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