Dancing with the Devil
I vividly remember the first time I broke up with someone I was addicted to. I could feel it rip through my veins. I'm sure if I ever detoxed from heroin or alcohol I would be able to tell you it was the same feeling. I physically felt sick and in pain. I thought I was dying. My skin pulsed like tiny heartbeats in every pore and my veins were on fire. I was on my bedroom floor wailing in pain and fear. I could feel the claws of the most recent beast ripping through of every muscle trying to keep a hold of me.
I knew I was addicted to him the day I met him. He followed me around the bar for awhile before he approached. I watched him watch me. My girlfriend commented on his looks. She was intrigued but I was already scared. When he finally approached me he asked if I had ever danced with the devil. He was quoting the Batman movie that was recently released but there was something about this line that was more than a movie quote. His words shook me and everything inside of me screamed the way t had done so many times before.
I felt the little girl trapped in my heart banging on the walls of my veins and screaming through my eyes to walk away, but again, I ignored her. What was it about this college girl that had taken over this larger body that I walked around with? Why was she so desperately needing to be loved?
I desperately needed to be loved. I let him in despite all the screams and warning signs. The next two months I fell deeper and deeper into addiction. I had inhaled his breath and let it take over my lungs. I could only breathe his air and when he went to jail for the following six months I was still breathing from his lungs. I drove two hours twice a week to visit him. I found him a job and an apartment and set him up when he was released. I don't even remember what I was studying in college or if I talked to anyone other than him. Every night I made sure I was there for his phone call. That was my life.
When he got out we moved into the room I found for him. I only left that room to attend classes and work. I was getting high again and my friends had disappeared. It wasn't until our trip to Florida to meet his parents that I was jolted into reality. I realized how alone I was and how scared I was. I called my mother from Florida strung out on codependency. She begged me to come home.
That's when the first detox began. That was the first time I knew I really had a problem. I didn't know my problem was as bad as it was. I didn't know it would be another 17 years before I really started my recovery.
I knew I was addicted to him the day I met him. He followed me around the bar for awhile before he approached. I watched him watch me. My girlfriend commented on his looks. She was intrigued but I was already scared. When he finally approached me he asked if I had ever danced with the devil. He was quoting the Batman movie that was recently released but there was something about this line that was more than a movie quote. His words shook me and everything inside of me screamed the way t had done so many times before.
I felt the little girl trapped in my heart banging on the walls of my veins and screaming through my eyes to walk away, but again, I ignored her. What was it about this college girl that had taken over this larger body that I walked around with? Why was she so desperately needing to be loved?
I desperately needed to be loved. I let him in despite all the screams and warning signs. The next two months I fell deeper and deeper into addiction. I had inhaled his breath and let it take over my lungs. I could only breathe his air and when he went to jail for the following six months I was still breathing from his lungs. I drove two hours twice a week to visit him. I found him a job and an apartment and set him up when he was released. I don't even remember what I was studying in college or if I talked to anyone other than him. Every night I made sure I was there for his phone call. That was my life.
When he got out we moved into the room I found for him. I only left that room to attend classes and work. I was getting high again and my friends had disappeared. It wasn't until our trip to Florida to meet his parents that I was jolted into reality. I realized how alone I was and how scared I was. I called my mother from Florida strung out on codependency. She begged me to come home.
That's when the first detox began. That was the first time I knew I really had a problem. I didn't know my problem was as bad as it was. I didn't know it would be another 17 years before I really started my recovery.
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