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

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