Down Memory Lane

By

Spring up north, in Maryland.

Right before the end of my life.

I hear music.

I smell flowers, I mean, I really smell flowers; I smell spring.

I’m alone, the one I always loved is gone.

I’m with strangers I’ve known forever;

I’m happy because I feel the wind in my hair and music in the background.

I can pretend I am anywhere.

I’m stuck on repeat.

Drugs, I need drugs, fuel, it’s fuel.

I haven’t slept.

I’m losing it, making desperate phone calls.

I’m packing like I’m moving away forever.

Spring ends in a week.

I’m in a house, I’m gone, I’m tripping.

I’m still tripping.

I’m in front of my probation officer.

I’m in a jail cell.

I’m waiting to get out.

Ten months later.

I’m awake. I’m free. I’m in treatment.

No fuel for ten months and I’m sitting in treatment.

I’m so happy.
It’s so cold. I hold my mother for the first time.
I should be crying. I am crying.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Nightmares; repeat, repeat.
Relapse in treatment. 
Kicked out of treatment.
Back in treatment.
Relapse in treatment.
Leave treatment.
Back in treatment.
Relapse in treatment.
Kicked out of treatment.
I’ll eat my own sadness up.

I’ve built my own prisons. In my apartment. I don’t know how to live. I stay home all day. In my prison. I don’t know how to live life. The only thing that I have any hope in is the drugs my doctor prescribes me. Hoping, praying, it will get me back into the world. Be able to be a part of society. My hope is dwindling. The last place in the world I want to go back to is jail. It wouldn’t be jail this time, it would be prison. What’s the difference though? I’m wasting my life. I’m in my prime. Sleep is filled with nightmares; nightmares from the past. Nightmares of jail, rape, fail, and my life on repeat. Sleep is also filled with dreams of all the things I don’t have, but ache for. I’m not tired, but I don’t want to wake up; I want to stay in this fantasy world. When I was in jail I found a purpose to live. I’m loosing a purpose to live. I’m not giving up, I’m not giving up yet.

“Lead me to the truth and I will follow you with my whole life.”

I’m sober. I’m sober. I’m Sober. God, I need you. I’m sober, but it feels like I’m good as dead.

You should like Thought Catalog on Facebook here.