The other night, I dreamt I got back together with a long-ago ex. We walked, entangled, through a busy night market in a foreign city. She had one arm around me and the other raised to her face, bringing a bottle of whiskey to her lips. The scene shifted, and then we were sitting on the roots of a giant tree, its innumerable branches canopying us with shade. She was still holding the bottle of whiskey and I was happily holding onto her.
I awoke and felt a mixture of longing and relief. I longed to feel that close to someone again but felt relieved to know it would never be to her or in a relationship remotely close to that one.
Despite all the love I once carried for her, that is a relationship and version of myself I have gratefully laid to rest.
It was a desperate kind of love, one we proudly compared to the likes of Heathcliff and Catherine’s toxic romance in Wuthering Heights.
Once we were finally over, I mourned and grieved the person she was and the person I was when I was with her. I let go and evolved into a person who loves and respects myself more than I ever could with her.
My involvement with that person was a toxic cycle that took me years to break free from. But I broke free, despite it feeling impossible at the time. I believed for many years that I would never feel that desperately drawn to another person, which was my reasoning for always crawling back.
But being desperately drawn to someone or something is not, it turns out, something you should aim for. Desperation implies a lack in your life that needs to be filled in order to be happy.
To be desperate for another person or thing signifies a complete loss of hope in oneself.
“Here and there, on the trees, some leaves remain. And I often stand deep in thought before them. I contemplate a leaf and attach my hope to it. When the wind plays with the leaf, I tremble in every limb. And if it should fall, alas, my hope falls with it."
Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments
Desperation and craving have long worked side by side to overwhelm and overtake me. Whether it was in my personal relationships or with my substance abuse, I fed the monster of craving with desperate, toxic behaviors.
It’s time to break another cycle.
It’s no mystery to me why my ex was drinking in my dream. My relationship with her and alcohol are both things I know to be toxic and harmful to my well-being.
But this dream was less about my ex than it was about my longing for a life that no longer serves me. It was a gentle reminder that breaking free from it will feel impossible at times, but it is not hopeless. Healing is always possible.
I am in the middle of breaking the vicious cycle of addiction. Or rather, I’m on the lifelong journey of breaking it. I don’t know where exactly I am in its progression, but I do know I am moving forward. It’s hard but I want to be here. I feel stuck but that doesn’t, in the slightest, make me want to give up.
Each “slip” or relapse has been a blessing and a lesson. What led to that moment, what were my triggers, what is working and what isn’t? I’ve learned not to shame myself about it. I am only human, and I understandably want to self-soothe the quickest and easiest way I know how.
But I want to rewire that part of my brain that has it all wrong. Drugs and alcohol don’t work for me anymore. Can’t my brain get that already? No, it must be taught. Over and over again. Until it’s etched in.
Recovery is not immediate. It’s not a quick fix, which makes it all the more unfamiliar and daunting. Breaking this toxic cycle feels impossible right now, but I am hopeful that I will finally brave and jump over the hurdle.
While I can attest that I do love alcohol and other drugs, and love so much about the life I led while consuming alcohol and other drugs, I know that I need to say goodbye to them and to that version of myself.
I need to confront the fact that being sober and fully embracing my recovery means letting go, completely.
I have been pretending that my life can resume as normal, just minus the booze and drugs. I play it off as no big deal when others drink around me and willingly put myself in situations where I am surrounded by substance use. I act as if my addiction is not the most dire threat and terrifying monster I have ever had to face.
At this point, I don’t know what the next move is. I know I have to let go but I don’t know how. My therapist told me that maybe I haven’t hit bottom yet. Do I have to suffer more grievously than I already have in order to evolve? That doesn’t feel fair. I don’t think that’s true.
I have suffered plenty. And to hit another hypothetical rock bottom would mean I’d enter a type of recovery founded on desperation, hopelessness, and shame. That isn’t how I want to do it. That won’t work for me.
I want to find a recovery that centers not on lack but on abundance. I want to meet it while already understanding that I am enough.
I want to approach meetings, meditation, writing, and working out as the medicine I need to take for an illness. I don’t want to treat them as desperate acts that only serve to keep the demons at bay.
So that’s what I am working on. A recovery centered on abundance. Breaking another toxic cycle. Moving on, even though that means I will need to say goodbye to this version of myself that has felt safe to me for so long.
I am a Gemini and am sober
Love your writing style. It hits.