Sunday, January 10, 2016

I am an Addict.



Hi, my name is Mia, and I have a confession to make: I am an addict. 

Most people hear that word and flashes of the show Intervention immediately pop into their head. Or those "flakka" videos you see on YouTube these days, with people writhing around on the ground like zombies. While substance abuse/addiction is a huge problem in our country, I'm not that kind of an addict. 

What am I addicted to? Well, I'll get to that. Let me first show you a little bit of what I mean. 

I like to read. Therefore, there's hundreds {literally} of books in my house, some of which have been collecting dust for years. But because I love books, I can't just stop at one or two. I have to stockpile these beautiful, delicious tomes of escape.

I like to write. Therefore, there's hundreds {literally} of notebooks and journals and every type of pencil, pen, marker you can imagine in my house. I will never be able to use them all. But I love to write and I love the tools that one would use to write, and so I can't restrain myself from the items that facilitate my free "therapy" and expression. 

I like to eat. Eating makes me so happy. Every outing, date night, work day for me revolves around food. Food is comforting to me. And why just eat when you can overeat and binge to the point of having trouble breathing because you're so full. But eating helps to mask my insecurities.  

I like to consume the occasional alcoholic beverage. But it's only after years of re-training and self control that I'm able to stop at "occasional." There was a period in my life when it started out as only on the weekends, but it soon became every single night. Drinking let me forget, and drown out the voices in my head that said, "no good, less than, inferior, unlovable." 

I like to think. As a textbook, stereotype introvert (shout out to my INFJs!), I tend to overthink actually. Replay situations 1,000 times in my head. Or worry about future occurrences that I have no control over. Or ponder the meaning of life. This ceaseless circle of worry and internalization keeps me from having to actually deal with anything, but keeps me so "busy" that I don't notice. 

Are you seeing a trend? 

I'm addicted to being numb. 

I'm addicted to "taking the edge off" of any uncomfortable thoughts or emotions and sweeping them under the rug. Sadly, they don't make rugs big enough to hide my shit. I go balls to the wall in 100% high octane, relentless pursuit of anything that distracts me, however briefly, from having to just be

I don't feel like my addiction ventures into dangerous territory by any means. I'm sure some of you right now are rolling your eyes, like "really, Mia? You like to read, write, and eat? Wahhh, cry me a river." But I don't know how to describe it any other way. I let anything that makes me remotely happy completely consume my life. And yet, I'm still miserable with myself. 

How do I find balance? How do I feel comfortable with my self and my own thoughts and just be? I really don't know the answer to those questions. 

I put a lot of hope into 2016, with inner peace being a big focus. But I'm officially adding self-love and patience as well. Wish me luck. 

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+ Did you check out the new and improved Write or Die writer's link up? No prompts, just you and your beautiful writing. Don't miss out! 

+ The ABC Reads 2016 reading challenge is live and going strong. It's never too late to join us and read through the alphabet. Check out the details here

+ Issue 5 of Holl & Lane Magazine is a doozie, in the best way possible. Get the issue here and use promo code CHRONICLESOFCHAOS for 15% off. 



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