My name is Vicki, and I am addicted. I am not attempting at this time to recover, though I am growing more aware of my neediness daily. I’ll tell you of this obsession, which began in my childhood. My mother knew the same dependence, though I feel she is not as addicted as I am today. I wish she were. It would give us a stronger bond.
In my early teen years, I went through a brief period where I was focused on friends and fun, and didn’t think much about it. But then, when I got back into it—this addiction—it with was with a passion. I’ve gone along my whole life progressing rather than declining in dependence. Even with this steady decline of personal control of my life, a couple of years ago I made a dramatic plunge. Today, it’s the first thing I think about as I gain consciousness in the morning. Without a fix, I can barely stand to face the world or leave my house. And though my mind is often on it throughout the day, in the late evening there is this resurgence—of, how do I describe it—my need for yet another fix. I often feel no peace unless I give in. Things I used to take great pleasure in—watching television, playing tennis—are often an irritating distraction to me. And even saying this, I can freely admit I’m not planning to turn back. I feel like I’ve only begun and I daily ache for more. I know I won’t be satiated in this life and often thoughts of leaving this world provide my greatest comfort.
This power that has hold of me won’t stop with me. As I tell you about my dependence, I will shamelessly try to drag you in too. I will try to impress you with truths: It will not make you ill, but healthy. It will not damage the relationships you have with others…it will heal them. It will not make you say crazy things that you’ll regret…it will make you say things that will sound crazy to others. You won’t care. What the others think of as sanity is mediocrity. Obsession is the only life worth living.
Please try my obsession. Athough it is illegal in some countries, thankfully you can still legally use here.
What’s it like? Mild responses can be as simple as having a good night sleep or a general sense of peace. Sometimes (and I pray this for you all) you can experience such joy, peace, even euphoria that you don’t want to breathe, for fear of ending it. Although I’ve had this happen rarely, I can only describe it as having liquid warmth, happiness and joy wash over you. Nuclear-strength cocaine can’t
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