Dear pills,

You made me feel put together. You made me feel happy. You made me feel like the world was an okay place to live in until you turned on me and made everything dark. You were the puppet master and I? Only a puppet.

I tried to get away but you would not unleash your grip. You were lies. I thought I had control over you, but it was the other way around. When I slept for three days straight, you thought you had me. I thought you did too.

You were chaos in the family. I thought that I was loved when you were with me, but really, I was pushing people away. You are guilt. You are shame.

The blackest mark in my story was when I had to admit I was fighting you. Telling my mother that I was in your grasp. That you were my maker.

Dear cigarettes,

You turn the most innocent snow into black ashes. You turn my lungs into shriveled caskets. You, like pills, make my wallet empty. And still, I love you.

I love your relief. I think I am invincible when I am with you, and when I am not with you I think I'm losing my grasp. You, like pills, control me. You need me more than I need you, but it is so hard to stop.

So much of me relies on you. So much of who you are relies on me. And still, I love you.

Dear alcohol,

You lied to me. You were bitter and tasteless and yet you held your grasp on me. I thought with every sip that I was a better person, but I was not. And still, in confusion and anger, I turn to you. Instead of blood, I bleed you.

Dear addiction,

I am not you. You are not me. Every day I watch you crumble slowly. Every day, I watch you crumble others lives, people I love turn into shadows and monsters.

I sleep uneasily knowing you are under my bed waiting for me to fall again so you can take grasp. You claim to be the stories I will tell my grandchildren. About when I was too sick to do anything but lie.

Dear people hurt by my addiction,

I cannot say how sorry I am. Empty apologies. For I pick up a bottle one more time and fall into its’ arms. And try to do better tomorrow.