ADDICTED: TRAPPED IN THE PATTERNS OF MIND

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I think somewhere there is something that all of us fear; that has us trapped. It is not necessary that you be addicted to drug, alcohol or pornography. It could be anything. It could be the way you behave, some bad habit, the way you overreact or even sulking. People are addicted to different sorts of things or activities and it is not essential that it should be something negative. I believe that addiction is a pattern of mind and those patterns are formed when we develop a habit over a period of time. The only difference is that when we talk about addiction, we usually refer to bad things. No one starts smoking or drinking with the intention of getting addicted, it happens. We cannot blame someone who is already fighting a battle, trying to get free from the restraints that he only forced upon himself.

Every time there is some thought which overpowers every other,
It is that one irrational thought that I blame,
I am trying to stop it from overpowering me,
however, it keeps restraining me with an invisible force.
I push and try, breathe and cry,
Nothing helps.
I shout on myself, I demean myself,
I feel like I am no good.
I feel helpless.
I want to float on the surface,
but the pressure keeps pushing me down.
I cannot distinguish if I am drowning or dreaming.
I don’t know where I am. I feel trapped.
I want to break free of this incessant pattern of tortures,
but it won’t stop.
I hope, I pray and yet, every other day I forget the prayer.
I don’t feel worthy, for what good is someone lost in the dark?
I can’t acknowledge my own presence,
For it is so harsh on my eyes.
From feeling dignified to feeling unwanted,
even by myself.
Not even death seems like an option because I’m trying so hard to be strong,
but my strength is washing away with each relapse storm.

I am trying to let those habits go; they are just reaffirming their grips.
I am trying to break free of this grasp, but it’s hurting even more.
I wish to find someone to help, but there is no one, for I lost them all. Credits to my sensitivity or insensitivity, I may never know.
I want to be strong, but every passing second is pushing me down even more.
What am I even striving for?
That momentary feeling which eventually leaves me with innumerable moments of pain and doubts?
That pleasure sensation which is only a figment of my imagination, which I have never really experienced.
Letting go sounds beautiful. Trust me,
I want to let it go but it won’t let go of me.
The chains are getting tighter. The shackles are adding to my uneasiness;
I can do nothing but wait, for all my efforts are going in vain.
I don’t see any other option, I see no light.
Yet, again I say I don’t want to stop looking for it. But I’m tired. I don’t know anymore.

They say I’m addicted, they don’t know I’m bound.
They don’t know I never realised,
I thought it was okay, it’s a phase,
Until it was way too late,
Even today I woke up with an affirmative resolve,
It wasn’t even afternoon and I was finding an excuse,
For what else could justify the behaviour that I choose,
Yes, the choice is mine.
Yes, I can stop it.
But I want to tell you it’s not easy,
I want to tell you, it’s not that I don’t want to try.
I want to and I do,
There are just too many failures and I can’t handle that.
These failures are like a whirlwind,
They have trapped me inside and it keeps swirling and so do I.
I can’t find stability; I can’t find peace of mind.
I want it to stop but it won’t understand a red light.
I wish the traffic lights were enough to stop the traffic up there,
But in my head, it’s not.
Nothing but that constant feeling which makes me do things I don’t want.

They need therapy, rehabs and support. The best thing you, me or any one of us could do is be there for them. They don’t want it and they didn’t ask for it. Yes, they made some mistakes but they regret that. They want to defeat that constant thought and win over their addiction but the battle is tough. Let us just lend an ear to listen to someone, be kinder with our words and maybe have a humanistic approach towards life.

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