• daphnae 20w

    "30 April, 2019

    The creaks of the door I just flung open amplified in beats until the migraine took over the nerves of my brain. I aimlessly groped for the light switches
    and there you go - unfiltered specks colliding my eyes with severe headstrain. This is how I knew the intoxication drifting away, And I knew what's next - GUILT. I look over the floor strapped with used and unused syringes, the broken vases and each step into my own house felt like a hell in my alternate universe: my unmade bed, torn curtains accelerating every spin in my head. I lay in my bed, as it is, tracing my moments here with my family. Reliving my happy moments with them only makes me bigger of a monster after everything I've put them through. The stains of blood near me are old, contrary to the pang in my guilt-loaden heart. I wish there were words I could speak to voice the shame I brought into myself by throwing away the only people who taught me how to love. But nothing, nothing in this world or beyond would ever suffice for what loophole I've trapped myself into, dragging them along:

    'Aaruhi,' I called, 'I'm hungry.' Through the curtains of the kitchen I could watch her frowning over the phone call. I was buzzed and so she knew it. I scream her name, she doesn't even look back. The blood in my nerves bursting, I watched her hazy face- her lips mouthed my name as if it was sinned. The rest of what happened is clouded at the back of my mind. The only thing I remember was the blood on my shirt and her head flooded with the same. My daughter screaming "mom" resonates my ears with tremendous pain now. I remember picking both of them up, the horror in their eyes. And I remember everyone's eyes following me as I run on my way to Vinesh for a second dose and rest of what I don't remember anything of."

    It has been years since my first
    addiction campaign and my journey
    through the nightmares of cravings,
    guilt, pain and loss.
    What I held onto, when I screamed
    and whimpered along my way out of it,
    was my family- my wife and my daughter
    who I wake up to every morning now
    and utter one single word "sorry".
    I am proud of myself for pulling it through
    my phases of pain and distess,
    for being able to brim smiles over their faces.
    And all along I pray for the addicted souls
    for their peace in moulding their way out
    of this vortex that rips us of every shred
    of love or humanity we are capable of.

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