That private, secret place, you go and rendezvous with your personal demon. He’s the dealer you meet in a dark alley. He’s your midnight fix. He’s the one who’s never late and wears a knowing grin every time you appear. You avoid eye contact with him; you just want the stuff. You want to get your hit, savor the high, and then leave only to return the next night.
Addiction is a strong word, and most are uneasy with being identified as one who is addicted. Mainly because we perceive addiction as a character flaw, a kind of weakness. If you’re addicted, then you’re dependent. If you’re dependent, then you’re immature, irresponsible, or incapable of exercising healthy discernment over life choices. It’s much how we perceive our youth, and rightly so, given that they’re listed as “dependents” on our tax forms.
In that light, it’s safe to assess that addiction keeps you stagnate, preventing any kind of growth — you’re perpetually a teenager (emotionally speaking) who refuses to grow up. Its aim, much like the illustration above, is to keep you coming back for more. Ironically, the “more” you seek actually makes you LESS, because the more you indulge the more YOU GIVE YOUR POWER AWAY.
Addiction creates a divide between you and truth. And if you remain disconnected from that truth, you will forever be informed and formed by insecurity (doubt, fear, resignation). You’re giving your energy, your love, to something that doesn’t love you back.
Love is meant to be shared and reciprocated.
The things that we love tell us what we are -Thomas Aquinas
You wouldn’t wish this secret misery on anyone else. Why wish it on yourself?
Go now. Go and talk to somebody about this demon (or demons) and you’ll begin to lift the veil from your eyes. You’ll reunite with that truth, that freedom, you’ve been longing for. C.S. Lewis said that you only know what a curved line looks like because you have a standard of straight one. You know what it is to be free; and even if you can’t feel it right now, you can imagine it.