Search

Insanity is Knocking on My Door

“Hello!” She said


“What do you want?” I said


“I got the wine; you bring the weed,” she replied


“No! The last time we visited together, I almost died. You destroyed my marriage and burnt down many bridges.” I spouted.


“But don’t you miss the worlds we have traveled to and our sweet homecomings? The feeling that nothing matters and the electricity that passes through your body when I am around? I know you miss me.” She reminded me.


“Yes, I do miss you.” I cried.


When I was drinking, my favorite occasions with Insanity were during times of great uncertainty. The more uncertain my life was, the more time I dedicated to Insanity. When I needed to escape my reality, I would lose myself in her depths. My drinking and bipolar medication cocktails facilitated my meetings with her.


Many of the alcoholics I have met during my time in the A.A.Twelve-Steps Recovery Program have spent long periods of time living with Insanity. We have all slept with her, as she has seduced us like no other. I would reason with myself that living in complete madness was not so bad. It alleviated me from the responsibilities of living in my own and actual reality, which typically was never as exciting as the self-inflicted craziness.


However, what I have learned in the past eighteen months is that uncertainty is fleeting and that bonding with Insanity during these times only prolongs my anxiety of the unknown. While she is incredibly seductive and tempting during this new horizon I will shut the door on her this time. She will not destroy my reality. She will not harm my mind nor soul. She will not dance alongside me.


So with that, my final words to her when she came knocking this time were, “I will cherish the learnings that came from our time together, but I will never again invite you into my home nor life. Goodbye Insanity. Goodbye forever.”



65 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Sober is the New Fabulous

I have officially spun around the sun for four fucking long decades. Unfortunately for me, I no longer have a celebratory vehicle to transport me into the majestic land of a dopamine rush. Surprisingl

On The Other Side of Early Sobriety

For me, getting sober was the metaphoric equivalent of taking a hammer straight onto my glass heart. Sobriety sent my heart flying into a million pieces. It crushed every sense of belonging I had. It