...Your Taste Is My Attention...

The truth was, I didn’t want to stop. It’s not like I enjoyed stealing or hurting my dad, or whatever. I mean, I hated it. But I was so scared of coming off the drugs. It was like this horrible viscous cycle. The more I used, the more I did things I was ashamed of, and the more I had to use so I never had to face that. When I reached a certain point with my drug use, going back just seemed like too far of a journey. Accepting responsibility, admitting guilt, making restitution, hell, just saying I’m sorry - it had become too daunting. All I could do was move forward and keep doing everything in my power to forget the past.

I always get so overwhelmed trying to do everything perfectly. I can’t do a job and not put everything I have into it. I need to be the best employee, the best co-worker, the best whatever. I need everyone to like me and I just burn out bending over backward to make that happen. Having people be mad at me is my worst fear. I can’t stand it. There is this crazy fear I have of being rejected by anyone - even people I don’t really care about. It’s always better to leave them first, cut all ties, and disappear. They can’t hurt me that way - no one can.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate my life sober, but it’s like there are two different people battling inside of me. I want to be good, do good, be a worker among workers, a friend among friends. But there’s also this part of me that is so dissatisfied with everything, If I’m not living on the verge of death, I feel like I’m not really living.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve had this pain inside me, this vacancy, this hole opening up wide. I always felt so alone, like I was the worthless little nothing. I guess the biggest fear I had in the whole world was that someone would see what’s inside of me and discover what an ugly, disgusting, horrible person I really am. So I spent a whole lotta time trying to do everything I could l escape those feelings storming inside of me. I ran from myself.

I never understood that I have to really want to live for myself and as myself — not as someone else. If I could be content with who I am I wouldn’t have to escape myself always. That sounds simple, I guess, but it seems impossible.

As long as you look for someone else to validate who you are by seeking their approval, you are setting yourself up for disaster. You have to be whole and complete in yourself. No one can give you that. You have to know who you are - what others say is irrelevant.