In the haze of those lost years, I find myself questioning where I was, what I did, and what transpired during that era of physical destruction. Reflecting on over a decade of relentless self-destruction, I've often pondered the events, but answers remain elusive. Memories are fragmented—some vivid, others lost in the void. When reconnecting with people from that time, discussions about the past can leave me seemingly clueless, nodding along as they reminisce, struggling to recall.
Days would blur into nights, consumed by drinking and minimal sleep, forsaking food in favour of sustenance from cheap pies or chips when available. The relentless pursuit of alcohol and drugs took precedence over sustenance. I became a shadow of my former self, weighing a mere 50 to 52 kilograms, or perhaps even lighter, as recounted by others. The days of drinking were excessive, pushing the boundaries, and regrettably, I prided myself on an ability to outdrink most, despite my frail physique.
I became adept at sustaining a continuous state of inebriation, often starting from the moment I opened my eyes until they shut again. A long-neck bottle stashed under the bed became a nocturnal companion, providing a swig during the night. This destructive lifestyle strained relationships, especially with my family, who had disowned me. Despite the personal abyss, a flicker of caring and love for others persisted, and I continued to hurt only myself.
As panic attacks set in during moments of financial depletion, the desperation for the next drink intensified. These panic attacks were harsh, draining, and frightening, escalating in ferocity with each trigger. Recollections of those days are fraught with doom and gloom, and the addictive clutches were some of the scariest moments of my life.
In contemplating those lost years and the void in my memory, I am reminded of the relentless rebellion against societal norms and expectations. Despite being a challenging period, it shaped the person I am today. The rebellion was a response to rejecting the indoctrination attempts, demonstrating a disregard for societal expectations. The excessive drinking and substance use was a defiant stance, a way of saying, "I don't care about your rules." This tumultuous period, while entirely of my own making, ultimately contributed to my growth. I don't regret the journey; instead, I recognise it as part of becoming the person I am today.
The lost years are firmly behind me now. If others choose to cling to memories of that time, it's their burden. I've moved on, leaving those tumultuous years in the rearview mirror, constantly striving to become the best version of myself.
In Love, Light and Blessings.
