Drowning.

Your addiction is like being stuck in an under tow. Grasping for anything to pull yourself up and out of the dark, cold abyss below. But every time you reach out, you get pulled further and further down. You fight the urge to breathe … The very action that keeps you alive otherwise. But not here, not underneath in this alien world; immersed in it, where you do not belong. But it’s where you put yourself, where you ended up when you first thought you’d just dip your toes in, just once more. And then you fell right in again, just like every time before.  Questions float about while you flail and flounder. “How did I get here? What was I thinking? Can anyone even help me now?” You’re sinking, deeper and darker, so far from the surface that you can barely see the light. You finally stop flailing and hit rock bottom. But are you going to give up and let the water fill your lungs? Or are you going to take every ounce of anything you have left in you and push off of that rock bottom and fight your way back to the surface? Back to the light? Little did you know you needed to drown, you needed to fall all the way down where no one could reach you, because only then would you have had the need and the strength to push yourself back up again and finally be able to breathe.