A friend of mine told me the other night that she feels I have an “addictive personality.” I never thought about it, my mother does and she becomes attached to hundreds of things. But I have never really thought about myself having that trouble. I do things until I grow tired of them and then I stop. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it’s not so much that I’m addicted to the drugs, the alcohol, or the cigarettes, it’s more that I’m addicted to the substance’s ability to kill the angry voice in my head. When I’m intoxicated, by anything, the evil voice stops screaming at me as hard. Oh sure, he screams twice as loud once I come down, but while I’m flying I’m free. So everyday I try to kill the voice.
Unless you have experienced the voice, you cannot understand why I do what I do. Unless you know what it feels like to hate every inch of yourself, inside and out, then you can’t speak to me about what I’m doing. To have that voice tell you how “you will never be anything to anyone ever,” it’s a dark depressing feeling. The voice screams how ugly, how stupid, how weak, how selfish, how unimportant I am EVERY MOMENT OF EVERYDAY. I am well aware that I will die alone simply because I’m never going to be important to anyone, not as a friend, not as a lover, not as a spouse. This morning I had the happy thought about some cute guys I met, but immediately that voice jumped in let out insult after insult. Surely they saw nothing but nastiness when they looked at me and to think otherwise is pointless. I mean how could anyone find me even slightly attractive? I’m a stupid cow, an ugly, stupid cow. This is why I don’t eat. The voice carries on for days when I eat. Breaks me a little more each day. So yes, I drink until I’m drunk. I smoke until I’m high. I smoke cigarettes until the cushy feeling comes. That’s the only way to numb the voice. But I am not addicted. I don’t do it everyday, I don’t think about it constantly.