She

I was visited by an old aquaintance today although truth be known, we are much more than aquaintances.  We have a history that goes back many, many years. 

We do not see eye to eye; we never have.  She is relentless in her manic ways and though I have cried and begged her to leave me, she refuses.  I even went as far to remove her physically and found that I am powerless against the weight she bares.  She has been my burden for years. 

Each time she comes it changes everything.  Sometimes she appears without warning.  I turn and there she stands.  Helpless in what is to come, I close my eyes and begin the war all over again.

I don't know how long she will stay this time, each time is different however she will leave eventually. 

I won't be alone long though; she always finds her way back. 

Addiction

Addiction?  I suppose the truth comes from the one who claims the word. 

I don't believe in addiction.  Addiction is a word that gives society a way out of responsibility, a way to seek attention from others, be it good or bad. 

You have control over all aspects within this realm.  Do you drink, smoke, do drugs, masturbate or lift weights?  These are just a few of what some would consider an addiction if they themselves didn't partake.  I happen to smoke cigarettes, smoke marijuana and masturbate but again there are more activities to choose from.  Feel free to fill in the blank.

I smoke cigarettes and have for over twenty years.  I do this because it is something that I enjoy.  I feel more comfortable in an environment where it is socially unacceptable.  It is a death sentence of sorts for I know it will be what takes my life.  

I smoke marijuana, not on a daily basis but when I do it is just enough to relax my thoughts and ease my pain in which I have gathered throughout my day.  It makes me smile when I have no reason.

Masturbation is great and I encourage everyone to strum their own sixth string, that is if your a woman.  If your a man, well I suggest you tug away with your fantasy.   

So you see, for me addiction is not part of my vocabulary but pleasure is.  I find pleasure in the choices I make voluntarily. 

Sedated

Medications.  You know, the ones that allow others to tolerate the bane of your existence.  SSRI's are in essence designed to balance out the imbalances of who God made; a way to fix God's mistakes, assuming you believe in God.  I do not.  Another blog; another day.


I lost so much of myself throughout the morning ritual of a pill and a cup of coffee.   Popping the hundred milligram pill, day in and day out for twelve years is just what people needed from me; a subdued shell.  A puppet with societies hand so far up my ass and down my throat that the smile was fixed.  After all, isn't that the meaning of life? - Giving what others want so that they themselves don't have to submit to the ugliness.  

I was made to believe that I needed counseling; seek a therapist, they'd say - there is obviously something wrong with you.
 
So I did. 

I was never encouraged from the therapist in which I spent hundreds of dollars on to actually be myself instead of suppressing the beauty in which society could not muster.  And yes, there is a beauty in the destructive mind. 

Giving credit to John Nash, beautiful and yet destructive.  He couldn't function to his full potential with a sedative however was accepted briefly while medicated but loved unconditionally when the realization was apparent and fully accepted.  We are taught that our beliefs are shameful when they question the very one that stands before us.  In order to be accepted you must think in a certain way.  Do you really believe that I was given choices, that any of us are given choices?  It isn't as though we can shop at the local market to purchase the right mind in order to be accepted or loved.  Which makes me wonder, what makes a mind right? 

So why did I fall for this western society bullshit?  Well, I did it to be more to others and less to myself.  I did it simply out of confusion, the lack of acceptance and the weakened self-confidence.  What I was being taught was unacceptable - myself.

I suppose the truth lies in my raising.  Seeing all the happy, smiling faces and hearing their laughter made me want it, or so I thought.  The best part of family is to see that none of it was true which is why I was never able to succumb to its lies. It is the reason why, though I live within minutes of my family, that none of them seek me nor encourage my passions to flourish.  They know of no such passion as they live a mundane existence because it comforts them long enough to make it through hours of lies escaping their very own reality.

Throughout the sedated years I didn't miss who I was; fuck, I didn't even know her anymore.  I didn't write, sing, practice my photography and I didn't bleed of any passion.  However, I sure made everyone else happy in their own beliefs that they conquered a supposedly lost soul.  I thought if I changed I would gain the acceptance that I longed for; the abundance of love that accompanied all those around me.  In fact the right thing for me would ly in knowing it is strictly an opinion of a person who knows nothing of such a life. 

I never was that lost soul, I was only a submissive little bitch to societies censorship of the mind.  I surrendered so that they would never have to grasp the truth in which they would never understand.  I removed that girl so that no one would have to explain a particular behavior to the jaw dropped onlookers. 

I haven't popped a pill in a year now.  I have no use for the 4 x 6 piece of paper that states I need help.  I haven't made people happy and they don't want to be around me.  It is a fact of life that I have embraced and though it may be lonely at times, it is exhilarating to be alive and most importantly not sedated.