08 / 07 / 24
Strength
by Stormy
I’m 23 years old, sitting in jail. If you would have told me I’d be where I’m sitting right now a year ago I’d most likely would have laughed at you and asked you, “oh yea, when?” I would have wanted to know because for the last 4 years of my addiction of 8 years. I had lost hope of ever seeing the day I was finally free of the chase to just not be sick. I had made peace with the idea of dying, dying strung out on a stupid lil’ blue pill that I truly hated. Dying most likely alone somewhere on the streets, prolly in some sort of disgusting trap house. I’m 23 years old, sitting in jail for the crimes I did to support my habit. But the thing is, I’m alive. And I really made it to 23. Four years past 19, 4 years I really thought I’d never ever get to see. So in a weird way I thank myself for what I did because I’m here alive and sober. Because a year ago if you would have told me I would be 23 years old, sitting in jail, I would have made sure I would have never made it here today, I would have made sure the drugs won. So in a weird way, I thank myself for having the strength for keeping it pushing thru all the pain. All the days I was just tired of chasing the feeling of not being sick. So in a weird way I thank myself for having strength.
