Day 468.
This is a dark post. A bit grim and raw. It’s not in the slightest bit uplifting, because it’s the ugly truth. It’s a snapshot of the future if addiction gets hold of you. If you want your day brightening up, I’d skip this post today. It’s not for you.
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The days, weeks, months, and years are so full of time. We continually think of all that time, time and time again. Tick-tock, tick-tock.
Addicts can magically erase all that time. Poof!
Once our bloodstreams, brains, and bones are flooded full of our substance of choice – time, no longer exists. It never did – poof! Every day is a filthy, bloodied, tear-stained, non-existent, Groundhog Day. Our next drink or fix dissolves the minutes, hours, months, and years into a liquid and mercurial state.
Addicts exist in a swirling grey fog of nothing. It’s the first wish granted when we rub the magic addiction lamp. Eventually, further down the line, ‘I wish the next drink will kill me’ is the one wish that never seems to come. But give it time. That final wish will come true. It always does. Just give it time.
Every day we hear people say the same thing. Time flies! Where does all the time go? I can’t believe how quickly the time has passed! The time has literally gone! Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
Anything and everything merges into mush. Life (whatever that may be) swirls around us like the filthy blood sloshing around our veins. We have given ourselves a licence not to think any more. Our feelings put on pause. We laugh and we cry but never know why. Some of us cut and slash our sick, yellowing skin because we need to transfer the searing mental pain onto something tangible. Something we can see. There is enough rage and guilt in our bodies that the cuts never hurt. The pain moves a million miles away. The screams become distant echoes.
The dried blood and scars become the addicts Braille our fingertips read when the lights go out.
The door never opens because it’s always locked. The phone never rings after it’s unplugged. The outside world is simply that – outside.
Outside exists only when it must: when we get our drinks, when we meet our dealers, or when we finally have to sleep in it. Life never comes to us because we never let it in. Too embarrassed, too angry, too ugly, too far gone, too paranoid – too dead.
We don’t know where time is anymore. Time rots our food, rots our guts, makes us stink, takes our kids, un-employs us, desexualises us, imprisons us, removes our souls, cages our minds, makes shop doorways our beds. It builds our crosses and crucifies us.
But we don’t care. We never care.
We’ve spent many years re-wiring our brains with poison. We hacked our fleshy, sputtering software so that giving a shit does not compute anymore. We’ve crashed our system – blue screen – error 404. No option to reboot or reinstall. We are totally corrupted. All data lost. Blip! Gone.
Our tiny universe has stopped all the clocks. Nothing revolves around our world – only drink or drugs – drugs and drink. Our weather is toxic; the ground is a waiting grave. One day we will be worm food, plant food, maggot-ridden and fly-blown. It’s then up to heaven and hell to fight over our ragged souls and show us our new home.
I wonder if Jesus still does his water into wine trick! Does heaven have a rehab? Can the biblical and eternal screaming hell that our churches and priests condemn us to, match up to the hell we created for ourselves?
I doubt it. It’ll walk in the park.
Anyway, happy thoughts, eh!
Stay amazing and safe, everyone xx
Stumbling Towards Hindsight 