Every time I enter my room, it stares into my eyes, to the depths of my soul. The marks it has left in my life stain the wooden panes of my floor. And if it's not my floors, it's in my wardrobes, or under the bed. Anywhere to protect it from judgement of those who enter my room. As well as protect myself from the shame evoked every time I see them. It's relevance is no longer yet I cannot bring myself to let it go, do away with it. The longer you hold on to something, the harder it is to let go. Or so they say.
I've tried to quit. I've tried to stop. I really have. There have been times when I've done away with it, wiped the slate clean and embarked on a new journey, believing myself that I've left it in the past. Sometimes, it even takes months before I crack. But that's the problem, I always crack.
Just as I'm doing good, as I'm perking up and my days are looking brighter I allow it to creep back in. Just one is what I tell myself. It's always just the one. This will prove I've beat the addiction. That's what I always tell myself. I can handle it. You can handle it, Abe.
The next day a second. The next, a third. And like that, it all starts again and a week goes by and the addiction spirals out of my control; the puppeteer jostles me without resistance.
I've tried. I really have. I don't know where one seeks help for this kind of problem. But my sincerest hope is that, by sharing it, that's the first step. By no longer being ashamed. By letting the world know the ongoing battle. And, hopefully, this first step will lead to a second, and third and so on until, finally, I triumph against this addiction.
So here it is.
My name is Abraham Adeyemi, and I am a newspaper & magazine hoarder.
Have you got an addiction? Why not share in the comment box below. This, too, could be your first step to overcoming your addiction.
Follow @abeislegend
Currently listening to: Debra Laws - Very Special feat. Ronnie Laws
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