Drifting

It’s like being lost at sea on a tiny little life raft.

Just drifting.

Riding whatever current you happen to cross.

Losing control of direction,

completely.

Not knowing which way is what.

And you just drift,

a little bit,

then a little more,

each day.

One day there is not a single familiar thing in sight.

No land to speak of or drift to.

Nobody is looking for you. They can’t find you if they are.

You are lost,

entirely.

The sun has been beating on you for so long now

that you’re not even sure of your name...

What day it is...

Have you eaten?

I need a drink.

I’m so very thirsty.

I’m so hungry with no appetite.

Did you hear that? Am I ok? I don’t think I’m safe..

Something is out here with me.

And I’m so far away… from home.

Home: Hmm… where is that,

what is that,

who is that…

is there anyone there who can help me?

HELLO?!

Can you hear me?!

I AM RIGHT HERE!

CAN'T YOU SEE ME?!

CAN'T YOU HELP ME?!

It’s so dark here.

I’m so far from everything,

but I can still see you in the distance,

like a mirage, like a little movie that I cannot play a part in.

I love you so much.

I am so sorry.

I never meant to drift this far out.

I’m too weak to swim,

I’m barely keeping my head above water.

I’m treading but I’m tired.

I’m wasting my strength in treading when i should be fighting and kicking to you.

Which way do I go?

CAN'T YOU HELP ME?!

I AM RIGHT HERE?!

CAN'T YOU SEE ME?!

Please..

I am right.. Here..

I’m so very thirsty..

HELLO?!

...

..

.

This piece was written while I was in a bathtub at a hotel where my Father had so generously rented a room and allowed me to stay. It was a dark period of my life, however, it was not yet the darkest. I for some reason had the ludicrous notion that I could easily contend with my demons - that I was stronger, as clever, and far more determined than my addiction. 'I'm different, I don't need help, I'm not as bad as they think I am..' These thoughts would ultimately destroy any chance I had at winning that battle anytime near-after. What you experienced above, was my attempt to explain my addiction to my Father. Who you cannot try to explain anything to, what has formed in his mind is the only thing he will entertain as truth. There was absolutely zero chance of me being heard if I spoke these feelings to my Father. Not to mention that I would undoubtedly choke on every aching vowel while all to eager tears further sullied my face. And so I started to write...

I invite your thoughts, feelings, opinions, and/or insight. Questions will be considered as well. While my entanglement with addiction fueled this writing, I imagine many can relate to a sense of losing themselves in some fashion. Unintentionally fading into someone unrecognizable, allowing yourself to become someone who belongs and fits in the surroundings you somehow long to be in despite the fact that 'you know better'... I mustn't be the only one who has truly missed myself.

It would interest me to know if anyone felt this was about addiction while reading... before my explanation of course.

It was my intention to portray the slow decent into that lonely dark place - any convey the distance that I created between my loved ones a little more each day. Till they stopped calling even to check on me, Until I made myself not exist. I wanted to show somehow the feeling of having no way to get home. That I was too broken to fix...