by Miss Kim

Created on: July 11, 2008

I never thought I'd see this day and I cannot contain my utter excitement. No More Methadone For Kim! I am siked.

But along with this massive happiness comes a sense of nervous freedom for me. Although the thought of never again having to ingest that red, syrupy substance puts the biggest smile on my face, I am also left feeling fear. Fear of the Unknown. What do I do now? It is amazingly difficult for me to imagine life without the Clinic. I mean, I've gone there everyday since I turned 20. How do I become a normal 23 year old? I've been asking myself this question for months, trying to come up with some answers, some sort of reassurance. But it is only now that the answer is so blindingly simple: I don't become a normal 23 year old.

I am forever marked, forever scarred by my past and all that it has taught me. There is no way that I could go on as if nothing happened in these past 7 years. That would be impossible. So I will continue on with the reality of the situation attached to me forever. Yet it won't act as a burden, or a looming fate, as one might think, but rather a blessing in disguise. A life lesson that challenged forever the essence of my soul. I am an addict and I will always be an addict. But that is not the only thing that I am. It does not sum up my life. It's not a nametag that I am forced to wear for eternity. Instead, it is one of the many characteristics that makes me who I am.

It does not define me, but frees me. I am not ashamed of who I am, no matter how many times I go over in my head all of the messed-up things I've done. I messed up, there's no denying that. Yet I Have No Regrets. I've learned from every shitty, every stupid, every desperate, and every horrible thing I've ever done. Had I not been emerged in Darkness, I may never have had the strength to get back to the Light. When I was down, I was down. I looked around for someone, anyone. But after I burned all of my bridges, there was no one there to help me up. To get me back on my feet. To tell me that everything would be okay. To hold me when I cried. But most of all, to love me when I couldn't bear to love myself.

So it took me awhile, but I did it. I stood up and stayed up. And I am a better person now because of it. I breathe deeper, I feel deeper, I am deeper. I can see things as they actually are now, and not what I want them to be. I can take a walk on the beach and just think. Think of the beauty of this world and how it guides me on a daily basis. Think of how fragile life is. Think of how being a Productive Member of Society is sometimes monotonous, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I love my life now. I re-realized my dreams, my hopes, my goals, that for so long went forgotten. Buried inside a mess of a person. A mess of a mind. A mind that, only now, can see the world for what it truly is: Beautiful.

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