Addicted to Sadness
Caution—Potential Trigger
If you or someone you know is contemplating suicide, please call 911 or go to your nearest Emergency Room. You can also contact the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255.
By Mackenzie Jerks
Even though it makes my eyes sore and even though I let the pain ring throughout my core, I cry each night until I can’t cry anymore. At first, the sadness was a part-time chore. Something dealt with two nights a week and no more. I would sit there in my dining room chair while the sadness would scrape my heart bare.
I’m still not sure when all this shit shifted. I’m not sure when my anxiety suddenly lifted. I’m not sure when the sadness took over and convinced me I wasn’t gifted. That voice in my head makes me believe this is how I’ll always be. The good parts of me I can’t ever seem to see.
My Sadness
The sadness feels bitter, but it tastes so sweet. I want to run, but the sadness freezes my feet. The sadness leaves me feeling stranded, like I’m homeless in the street. The sadness is something I feel is impossible to beat. Something stuck with me that’ll never leave. Something that’ll take advantage and get the best of me.
I walk through my day feeling mostly hazy. Most people will look at this time in their lives and admire how they live so carefree. They wake up each day and love the air that they breathe. But I know I won’t remember anything I hear or anything I see. I can feel the sadness altering my memories and giving me PTSD.
I don’t need a prescription to help understand this sadness addiction. Addiction is never getting enough of something I don’t really want. This explains why I never pull the trigger. I just look at death and taunt. This explains why I cut myself just enough to flaunt. Now I know why, when I look at the sky with a tear in my eye, a small part of me asks God why He lets me survive. Now I know why, when people start to pry I act shy, and tell them just enough to let me pass by.
Daily Sadness
There are days when I let my mind roam for a moment and am curious. I try to picture myself with a smile and I quickly feel delirious. I try to picture life moving fast, but not feeling furious. This is only a game I play. I never let it get too serious. Because even though the sadness makes my bones ache, my temper shake, and cry enough tears to fill a lake, I still thirst for more. More nights frozen in pain on the floor. More days bonded to life’s repetitive bore. More weeks wondering if time could move any slower. After more months, I wondered if I could ever feel any lower.
I lay half awake and pondered where this addiction would take me. Right now, I can only see it with the potential to break me. I can see myself in the E.R. watching my pulse flatline while doctors shake me. I see myself living in ways that cause concern for my safety. I can’t see myself making it out. Not as long as I’m stuck on this route. Not as long as I believe these thoughts of self-doubt.
Coping Long-term
When the days of sadness turn into months of madness, I wonder why I keep living through this paralyzing journey. I wonder why I only invest time to wallow in my worry. I wonder why I suppress my smile. I wonder why feelings of joy make the real me scurry. I’ve self-inflicted this sadness for so long. I’m beginning to wonder how I continue to make choices so wrong.
I want to leave so bad, but I don’t think the sadness will let it happen. Even though I’m surrounded by life, it’s the sadness that I’m wrapped in. If I ever get to leave, I look forward to being free from the chains. I’ll be able to live in peace and not live in pain. But that feels far into the future and coming no time soon. Until then, I’ll continue to make a living in my world of ruin. I’ll stay frozen like the winter even if it’s summer in June. I’ll keep wishing I could live with the stars each time I gaze up at the moon.
The Cycle of Sadness
I’m not sure how to break out of this cycle of addiction. I’m not sure how to let the real me talk with a voice of conviction. I’m not sure how to stop my voice from feeling constricted. I feel like true joy has always been a restriction. How do I start making the right decisions? How do I stop loving the wrong incisions? How do I step on the right path and walk it with precision?
Maybe the overdose of tears will eventually break me. Maybe all the pain inside my brain will motivate me to break free. Maybe I can turn to the same god I wish would take me. Maybe I can learn to love myself and make my first priority my safety. Because I can’t really see how things can get much worse. This might be a sign it’s time for me to finally put myself first.
On the straight path, but it’s still tempting to walk in reverse. I see a pool full of tears and I want to dive headfirst. All my past demons always know just what to say to coerce. On a straight path, but sometimes I want to stop walking. When I start to slow up, I hear the old voices start talking. I can feel the demons behind the shadows, always waiting, always stalking.
A Brighter Future
Although I still have conversations with my temptations, I’m finally starting to form some future aspirations. My dedication used to be focused on my dark destinations. But now I’m starting to realize that my next destination can be a higher occupation. Although all my demons aren’t completely obliterated, a lot of the sadness has been destroyed and incinerated. I’m starting to concentrate on feeling pleasant instead of contemplating what it would take for me to go to heaven.
Focusing on getting better hasn’t been a journey that’s been painless. But I’ve started to notice that all the work I’m doing has got me feeling painless. My heart used to be made of steel, and I know it’s not stainless. But I’m starting to love who I am and I’m happy to say I haven’t been the same since. I’m starting to realize loving myself can lead me up to greatness. I’m starting to see all the colors of life instead of only seeing greyness.
Mackenzie is a blogger/writer new to freelance writing, who focuses her creative energy on writing pieces relating to mental health issues. She was inspired to start writing after struggling with depression and anxiety for several years. Her goal in writing is to create stories that describe the difficult emotions that are experienced when battling mental health issues. To discover more about her work and upcoming projects, you can visit her website and follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. When she’s not writing, Mackenzie enjoys listening to various genres of music, reading, and spending time outdoors.
