Things have been rough lately. And by “lately” I mean the past month. The “what” exactly isn’t important. No one thing triggered the spiral but before I could catch myself, there I was, spinning. Spinning out of control. Spinning into a place I hate going. A place dark. A place void. A place I don’t go often. Not anymore, at least. Honestly, if I thought about it, I couldn’t tell you where that place is; I just know it exists and when things get bad in my head I find myself there wondering how and when I arrived. And I’m scared.
See, I’ve been clean and sober officially since July 2007. A fact I’m proud of. I stopped cutting on August 14, 2005. A fact I am fiercely proud of. But the problem is those are problems that still surface sometimes. I haven’t slipped. I haven’t fallen. But there are times I want to. There are times I want to so bad I can taste the bitterness of the pills, the burn of the alcohol running down my throat, the feel of a blade gliding across my arm as warmth runs, drips down to my elbow.
The dark place takes me to the brink of these old habits- these addictions- I’ve fought so hard to overcome, beat, hide. So I sit here typing. Thinking. Wishing. Praying. Hoping. For someone. Someone to show up at my door with their arms out. Ready to hold me until the tears start and willing to not let go until they stop. Because as long as I’m hoping for that dream I can deflect the one where I think, wish, pray, hope for someone to show up at my door with their hands out. Something wicked in them. Something that will, for the night, send me into oblivion and numbness.
I don’t quite know how to leave this dark place. Part of me never wants to leave. I hate this dark place.