Maybe you liked it. The otherworldliness of it and the separation. You liked how the world sparkled for you and you alone, you liked being cocooned in a psychedelic haze, it protected you, a mobile womb to block out the world. What on Earth will you do when it’s gone? Easier this way, isn’t it, to just tune it all out and continue down the rabbit hole. What’s the use of learning about yourself if you can’t apply it to the outside world? But it was never about the outside world, was it? It was about the made up fantasy in your head, the alternate impossible reality that you created just to inspire yourself to quit, and the second you caught wind that your impossible dream was, well, impossible, you ran right back into the loving, comforting arms of addiction.
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But I still want to grow old. I’m a dreamer, always have been. In the darkest of moments, I take a litmus test: I allow myself to envision my future. If I can’t see it, I am lost. If I can, I am still okay. Today, my tomorrow is content: maybe grumpy, living alone (well, not alone… dogs included), maybe a writer, maybe a retired zoologist, maybe both! Today, I have a future. I am not lost.
House of my Soul 