Goodbye

Dear cigarettes, marijuana, cocaine, alcohol–

You soothe me. You eliminate my pain. You make me forget that I have mental illness, that my emotions are not under my control, that the voices in my head aren’t real. Sometimes I want to devote my life to you, cuddle up with you in bed, and let your powers take over me.

But today, I will begin to live without you, to take control over my emotions, to calm my own fears, and to cuddle with the strength of Jesus Christ, God Almighty, the Holy Ghost, and those who love me the most. I want to thank you and rebuke you simultaneously because my life will no longer belong to you. My emotions will no longer depend on you. The voices will no longer dictate who I am and what I believe about myself.

You have been there through thick and thin, making my illness thinner and my guilt thicker, making my pain thinner and my hopelessness thicker.

I cut my wrists–even though it hurt–because compared to all the emotional pain I already felt, it was easier to feel physical pain. Now it’s time to tackle the emotional pain head on, and stop justifying physical pain as hurting less.

This isn’t a love letter. This is a hate letter. I hate you. Not myself. I hate the shame you create for me. Not the shame I’ve created for myself, the shame that keeps me from believing you are the way to happiness. You won’t be in control anymore. I will. And there’s nothing you can do about it.