February 12 - Weakness

Until now, I have never been very sympathetic to those with a physical addiction. Take smoking for example. I’ve always thought it should be simple to quit. Just don’t put the damn thing in your mouth! Easy, right? Or take over-eating. Just don’t shove that food in your pie-hole! Easy, right? Alchohol problem? Just don’t pour the damn drink! Easy, right? I mean, it’s a physical act that your brain decides to do, apparently with your consent. Geez, people, you should at least have control of your own damn hands!

Now I understand. As I write this, my hands itch something terrible. I know that if I succumb and scratch it may feel awesome at first, but I will pay dearly shortly thereafter. Solution is simple… do not command my right hand to move to the left hand and scratch. Easy, right? To me, not only is it not easy, it is impossible. I am doing it right now! I simply cannot help it. This lack of control drives me insane.

Now my hands hurt. The cracks have gotten worse and are oozing. My stomach and legs get hot and sweaty, apparently in eager anticipation that my hands may pay them a visit too. I have to blow the skin flakes off my keyboard to make out the difference between the keys.

I promise that when I am done with this that I will have a sympathetic understanding of addiction. I will no longer be smug in my feeling of superiority over those weaker than me.

I am the weak one now.