Personal Narrative: The Drug That Changed My Life

They tell me that I’m addicted. But little did they know, I’m just passionate. They don’t understand why I do this drug, and they probably never will.

Once you start, you just can’t stop. You have to include it in your everyday routine. You become obsessed with how it fills the room. It’s wonderful powers take over. Some you can’t bear to overcome. Powers that strengthens you. It can play you like a violin, as you sing it’s sweet tune.

Before I discovered it, I was nothing. I had no friends, no joy, no life. I was weak and tone deaf. But it opened my ears and it helped me become something beyond myself. Something beautifully uncontrollable.

Over the years it has become a part of me. A part I can’t live without. A part of me that I’m lost without. I need to feel its rhythm

throughout my body as it keeps my mind in perfect tempo.

It doesn't matter how I do it. All its forms give me comfort, no matter how fast or how slow. I’ll wait for it no matter how long it takes to start.

Whenever it happens, I get such a high. I forget about all my problems and the craziness of this world. I no longer feel so empty or so alone. Even before I swallow, I feel a rush of excitement about what’s coming.

My senses come alive as it rushes through my veins. It hums to the tips of my fingers, and down to the ends of my toes. My heart is light and beats faster as it crescendos. I can finally see the world more clearly.

Doing it alone is incredible, but doing it with friends is mesmerizing. They love it almost as much as I do. We do it together in harmony. Each of us adding to its fun. They get why we do it. How we crave its tastes, and can never have enough.

I embrace the amazing feeling it gives as time slows down.

If only the high could last forever but it always ends and there is silence.

As soon as it’s over depression returns like a truck. All I’m left with is the unforgettable memory of how it made me feel. I can never stop repeating it in my head. It helps the pain, but it’s not the same.

I always think about doing another, but I never have enough time. I then have to wait for the time I can do it. Which is unbearable, and the withdrawal symptoms don’t make it any easier.

My heart aches, and my body sulks without the thrill it gives me. My pace is no longer allegro but adagio. I feel empty and alone like a soloist singing a sorrowful a cappella.

I’ve tried to quit. I’ve tried to do other things that might fill the void. I’ve tried to ignore that painful silence. I’ve tried. But I keep relapsing. Not that I mind.

This drug is not just a hobby, it’s my life. I’m alive because of this drug. I will live to take this drug, until the day comes, where I have to turn it off.

They tell me that I’m addicted. But little did they know I’m just passionate. They don’t understand why I play music, and they probably never

will.