Addicted to My Own Sadness

The only explanation for why and how I consistently make choices that continue to put me through turmoil is, I'm addicted to my own sadness.

When you think of addiction, the first things that come to mind all bring self-indulgent pleasure to one, and hurt many others in the process. However, it's not the kind of addiction that's self-gratifying; I do not get a release of satisfaction when the darkness persists. Quite the opposite—it's an addiction that looks to keep me in the same cloudy and depressed state as long as possible. It removes the ideas of gratification and replaces them with guilt and the consistent feelings of being misplaced no matter where I am. It hurts everybody involved, and brings no positive outcomes to any.

I've struggled with this for over a decade. A good portion of my childhood is a dark void where I cannot even find memories—happy or sad. I grew up numb, and perhaps that’s part of the reason that I still have a hard time explaining what it’s like. It's hard to fathom how or why I would even wish to stay the way I am. Numbness, lack of connection, days of immobility and pain—these are not things you would imagine a person would like to continue for years and years to come.

I always wanted to blame anything else but myself for the people I care about leaving. I never wanted to recognize that, no matter how much someone could care about me, it wasn't fair to consistently put them through a roller coaster emotions just being around me. I’ve learned to expect that despite how much I would love to be close to other people, I cannot do so if I’m engulfed in my own darkness. I tend to keep to myself and try not to touch or impact the lives of others, to reduce the guilt I feel for even brining people in on this journey.

I have taken years to even wrap my head around that I was continuing the problem. But, the more I examine my choices, I am. I am the driving force of the darkness, the driving force of the pain.

I'm addicted to my own sadness because it's all I can remember. How can I even fathom being somebody without what's been with me longer than anyone else ever has? My sadness has become morphed into its own person. A person I can't seem to ever escape or quiet.

I'm addicted to my own sadness, like an unhealthy attachment to an abusive partner. I watch the endless cycle of the building anxiety, the incident of an enormous amount of sadness and often aggression towards my loved ones, the reconciliation with myself and others, and finally the "calm before the storm" that brings me right back around to anxiety.

I'm addicted to my own sadness because it's easier to deal with the side effects than to deal with the cause. I'm terrified to discover who I would be without what has become so integral to me. It's scary to think that you've been living in your own head at as a fraction of a person for so long. Would you even like the person you would've been if this had all been handled years ago?

I'm addicted to my own sadness most of all because moments of clarity like this are fleeting. Seeing through the darkness does not last long. The self-awareness always fades. I cannot hold on long enough for it to be impactful, which is the most disheartening side effect of all.