Wednesday, June 01, 2011
Your Lonely Addiction
Addiction is a lonely thing. People may know you have an addiction. People may be fine about the fact that you have an addiction. You may flaunt your addiction, talk about your addiction, laugh about your addiction, write about your addiction.
Blog about it even.
But even though it is out there, it is lonely. People know....but they don't really know. Every addiction is its owner's alone and even though millions of others have the same addiction as you, they don't have yours. Like a clover in a garden of clovers, you are clumped together in a sea of green weeds, all the same. Damn weeds! But if you look more closely, each clover...each little petal-leaf of each clover...is different. Slightly different hues of green, different shapes although they all look like hearts. Lonely hearts. So lonely are their hearts that Sgt. Pepper could recruit each one for his band and then become a producer and make a whole bunch of bands and make millions and millions of dollars and win Grammys and live in a big empty house in the hills of Hollywood. How lonely.
You eat and you enjoy mom's cooking but that hidden wrapper, that burger you ate when no one was with you, that giant bag of chocolate covered almonds you have in your bedside table. Under the magazines and the books and the scarf...just to be safe. You cry together but they don't hear you in the shower, your tears melting into the teaming water drowning out the heaves of sadness. Of loneliness. Because you are by yourself with all you are...or more precisely, who you perceive yourself to be. A loser. A weakling. A frickin confused freak.
They bring you bottles and bottles to your holiday open house and you smile and toast to the season and the New Year. Laughing, laughing. Crying, crying. Because you opened a bottle before breakfast and snuck some into your orange juice. Mommy is so fun today...so happy! She makes pancakes and does a silly dance and gives kisses. So full of life. Sew a needle pulling thread. Hemming his pants, her life. Shorter and shorter. Lonelier and lonelier.
The family watches "Funny Home Videos" together every Sunday. It is something you look forward to. And then the show that's after that. And then the one you taped yesterday. And the one you taped last month. You have to keep up. So much to watch! I can't miss seeing the one where Kim gets engaged - that ring! - or the one where Oprah talks to people who watch too much TV and drink too much booze and eat too much crap and steal too many tubes of lipstick because they can't afford plastic surgery. Or the season finale of Dexter. You like Dexter. Even though he's a serial killer. That's a serious addiction. A lonely addiction. Like yours. But at least punishment for what you do isn't an electric chair.
It's OK. It's not a problem. Life is grand. Then again, who's life is this? Filling cracks...the voids...with sand that makes it's way out slowly. Uneven. The grains all look the same. Like the clover. Like the moms standing in the schoolyard, the women waiting in the bathroom line, the cyclists in the spin class. They look like you. Like me. Wonder why?
Wonder why they are so lonely? Wonder if they are lonely like you?
Monkeytraps: a blog about control - Bert Starts Therapy (Check out this post on this interesting blog with a very fresh approach!)
Fare for Friends: Why We Need Our Gals