Today the focus of my therapy was my tendency to relapse, and unpacking that.
Doc says,
"So you've mentioned Her a few times now. I get the feeling that your relationship is complicated."
Yeah you could say that.
"Tell me about it"
*deep sigh*
There was a time when the sound of her voice could calm the shakes.
Her touch could bring fevers and chills
She was the cure to my sickness,
like Vicks on my chest or that first bite of chicken noodle soup.
My saving grace from assured destruction.
I grew dependent on that high.
Anything to escape reality for a spell.
Her very presence was the ultimate nirvana.
Enveloped in her haze,
she'd take me to dizzying heights, leaving me suspended in space...
"Sounds exciting. But how did you end up here?"
The withdrawal was always the worst,
cold sweats abound, gnashing and grinding my teeth.
hoping for just the slightest taste of her.
I was hooked. A certified junkie.
Without her I was but a zombie, incapable of even the slightest function.
"Hmm. So what was your next step? Where do you go from here?"
Recovery was no small feat.
Recognizing I even had a problem wasn't at the forefront of my subconscious
I bargained, too chasing cheap knockoffs,
substitutions that wouldn't cost me my heart or my love.
Temporary highs grew shorter and shorter
The void growing existentially.
I needed help.
Even in rehab, relapse was and is forever imminent.
It ain't been but a few months, a couple days, 2 hours, and
1,2,3...seconds since my last transcendence into that abyss...
I just want to kick this habit.
This addiction is slowly killing me...
But surely, love is worth dying for right Doc? Right??
...