Addiction.

I’ve witnessed it. The projection of anger that’s been pushed down by hundreds of bowls, beers, and bumps; only to be pulled up again by a chain. I’ve seen the attatchment to the numbness, to the loss of self. I’ve seen how families get ripped apart when alcohol becomes the favorite child. I’ve heard the screams, the banging on the window.

It’s the kind of monster that creeps up subtly. First, it’s once a week. Then twice. Then every day. Every hour and every minute. It’s the kind of monster that hides behind broken eyes. I’ve felt the urges, the shame, the narcissism. Because all addicts are narcissists for their poison. Addiction puts the substance first and foremost.

It comes from escapism. We see the demon behind us in the mirror, and we run. We run away only to fall and drown in a sea that we birthed. But the truth is, we can turn around and face the demon. Only we give it power.