Wednesday, December 23

Once Upon A Addict .

13 people with the same problem sitting in a circle. Flimsy, aluminum, folding chairs holding each of our jittery bodies. Waiting to one by one stand up and tell our own personal experience of our addictive downward spiral. A instructor with warm smiles, twinkling eyes, and a annoying habit of reminding us all that everything was going to be okay. I didn't feel okay. I hadn't rode the highs and lows today or simmered in the warmth and relaxed in the cool. I hadn't heard that infamous greeting when I asked for exactly what I shouldn't have been spending money on. As my patience wore thin and I became crankier by the hours in between each indulgence, those that loved me were more than convinced I needed help more than ever. So there I was forced to be. At this place. In this room. In this circle. With these people. Hearing their pathetic stories everyday. About how they rushed out of jobs and classes, argued and yelled for rides, regularly asking and begging for money and waking up in the middle of the night or early in the morning to rush to the overwhelming call. To love when it was in their hands and hating when it was gone. I half listened. Not ready to yet admit that those descriptions of reality were no longer undeniable in my life. Had something so innocent and recreational suddenly become my bittersweet longing? Had it without notice become the first and last thing I thought about night and morning? I sat among my peers. Those like me. Those that shared in my inability to deny myself what I felt I needed. One week. Two weeks. Three weeks passed and then I was ready. To tell the truth. To take the first step and admit, yes I have a problem. After a fellow user stood up and told his story, speaking my hearts feelings and my brains words, we clapped and gave nods of support. The room then fell quiet after a couple of rehearsed words from the instructor and it was my turn. I uncrossed my white fitted jean wearing legs and straightened my purple off the shoulder waist length sweater. I momentarily stopped fidgeting with my over sized gold heart necklace hanging down my chest and stood on my peep toe purple suede stiletto adorned feet. I rose slowly, took a deep breath and for once in a year finally spoke the words that i would have never thought would have been uttered by my lips, "Hi I'm Gwen and I'm addicted to Starbucks."


*True story.


pennanddpaperr.

4 comments:

Cook.ThePoet. said...

Hi, Im Cook & I'm addicted to Starbucks...We might have the same issue =\
Dope post. If you wrote a book, you would have me reading all night because ya style is like a holder<---if that makes sense lol

-Cook.ThePoet.

* ! zodiac ! * said...

wow, this was deep, but are all addictions bad??

Inner Emigre said...

mute all that talk...don't want folk to acknowledge that they have a problem....the funny thing about addiction is that it can have currency in the most unlikeliest of locations such as church or taking in a cup of coffee.

dope blog. (pun intended)

Schizophrenic Brooklynite said...

I was highly upset after passing 3 starbucks on the bus today in hopes of getting a cup while in the mall, and only coming to find out that ... the mall had closed at 6 for xmas eve. I could have cried and NOW, I cant sleep with out my Caramel Frap, or Machiatto.. Im sitting here watching Law and order, trying to enjoy a REGULAR cup, but its not working and starbucks is calling me....