Hello, my name is Shana…and I’m an addict.
I’m not really sure where to begin. These cold sweats have me itching for more.
More pills, more liquor.
Anything to make the pain disappear. Because that’s all I ever truly craved; an escape from the demons of my childhood.
The shakes remind me of the fear that tugged on my throat while his hand bruised my wrist. Seventeen never seemed so grown up.
Its been two days. When will my aching body find release? I fall to the cold tile, leaning against a locked door. Tears melting on hot cheeks. A blade clutched like safety in my weakened grip as cuts begin to color my wrist crimson. Eighteen never seemed so deadly.
I’m reminding myself that this hell isn’t worth the recovery process. How could it, with fire coursing through my veins? I’m letting my conscious convince me that it’s all for nothing. And I believe it, because nothing is what I’ve felt in the clouds. Twenty-one never seemed so hopeless.
But between these dark days, I’m told that there is more to life. Sobriety escorts the invasive thoughts out of my head. I feel protected. Time passes by and I’m investing my soul in these words I love so much. They’re causing me to search for hope. Is this the start of something new? Twenty-two never seemed so hopeful.