My Letter to Addiction

To Addiction,

It’s been so long since I met you. You were like snake and I grabbed you, and draped you around my neck. You were with me when I did everything from that point on. You were hissing at me when I got married. You slithered when I had kids. You tempted me at work, play, and everything in between. Although you went back in your habitat for a while, you came out when I was depressed or anxious. You knew how to get in the way, but now I’m releasing you.

I should have seen you, in the grass waiting for me to make a mistake. You were always ready to be with me, even when I didn’t want to be with me. You were so considerate, helping me make poor decisions and overthink my self-worth and accomplishments. But now, I’m releasing you.

You, snake, come only to deceive with your control. Your thievery. Your expected lies. You wanted to completely destroy me. Striking when you could. And you came close. But now, I’m releasing you.

As you grew larger, you started to tighten around my neck and chest. Things didn’t seem clear, and somehow you could let go at just the right time so I could hurt myself. That way, you could always get me to come back to you, even though my brain would tell me not to. When things got bad for me, you would slide back to me and wrap around my neck again, and whisper to me. And I listened. But now I’m releasing you.

Finally, my family told me about you, draped around my chest and flicking your tongue at them. Your constriction was strong, but they were stronger. They helped me. Then, they motivated me.  And they pulled you from me, even though you wanted me to grab you and bring you closer. But I refuse. I’m releasing you.

So now I’m excited to learn to live without you. I’m excited, to accomplish things, and bring joy to friends and family. I have plans, and you are not part of the future. I don’t need you around for support any longer.

You stole time from me. You stole relationships from me. You stole the joy of life from me. Goodbye addiction. Stay in the deepest jungle and don’t ever think of me again. With God, family and friends, I’ll recover. I can live without you. I’m releasing you.

Sober Poet