The Story of Addiction Pt. 1

You can’t see, can you? It’s because you’re standing on the edge of nothing. The dark stretches out in every direction—endless and silent. And this time... don’t close your eyes. No. Keep them open. Open them and see exactly where you are.

You heard a whisper... gentle, sweet... just enough to catch your attention. ‘Stay here,’ it says. ‘Just for a little while. You don’t have to feel anything here.’ And you listen—because isn’t that what you wanted all along? A way to stop feeling everything?" Right?

The whisper brushes against you, warm and inviting, like a secret only you get to know.

"Come on... You’ve been carrying so much for so long. Let it go. Stay with me, and it will all go away."

You take a step forward, and the darkness welcomes you like an old friend. It’s easy. It’s familiar. And it feels like you’re finally free.

You keep hearing the whispers telling you... ‘It’s okay. You’re okay. No one has to know what’s going on in here.’ And every time, you let yourself believe it."

The room wraps around you, the silence thick and comforting, as if it’s wrapping you in a blanket. Time starts to slip. You can’t tell how long you’ve been here. Maybe it’s been hours. Maybe it’s been days. It doesn’t matter—because in here, nothing matters. Not even you.

...You tell yourself it’s just for a little while. Just one night... just one more time. You say you’ll stop tomorrow. But the whisper laughs softly in the back of your mind. ‘Just one more time... Isn’t that what you said the last time, too? You fool.

...The darkness thickens, wrapping tighter around you. The whisper shifts now—not as sweet, but still soothing, like someone patting your shoulder as they push you toward a cliff.

"Come on... You’ve made it this far. You can’t stop now. What else is there for you, anyway? Out there, it’s hard. Out there, you have to feel things—things you don’t want to feel. But in here... you don’t have to feel anything."

...And so you take another step, sinking deeper into the nothingness, letting it carry you further away. The whispers are with you every step, assuring you, keeping you comfortable.

"You’re in control, you tell yourself. I’m not making you do anything... I’m just here to help. And you believe me. You believe me because you want to. Not because i gave you a reason to."

...The air shifts, heavier now, pressing against your chest. But you ignore it. The whisper is still there, still telling you what you want to hear. You’re fine. You’ve got this. You can stop anytime.)

"But can you? Can you really? Or are you already too far in to tell the difference? It's too dark here anyway.

...And somewhere, deep down, you know the answer. But you ignore it, just like you ignore the faint creak in the distance—the sound of a door opening. You don’t even turn to look. Why would you? There’s no point. The whisper tells you to stay... and you stay...

The darkness pulls tighter now, and the whisper isn’t so sweet anymore. It’s stern, controlling...

"Don’t leave. You’re here now. You’ve already come this far... What’s the point in turning back?"

...And just like that, the door is gone. Or maybe it was never there to begin with.

You stay, sinking deeper into the dark... And the whisper stays with you, wrapping itself around your thoughts, your fears, your excuses. ‘You’re fine,’ it tells you. ‘You don’t need to go back. Just stay.’ And so, you stay. You stay, even though you know... you’re not fine at all. And you don't want to stay.