“Would I recommend…? Seriously? Here, let me tell you something.
My name is K- and I am an addict. An unrepentant, continuing addict. I have no desire for recovery, for reform. My brain chemistry has been irrevocably altered by my addiction, and I no longer desire to be normal. I have a new normality and I will do anything, sacrifice everything, in my power to keep scoring my hits.
I would die for it. I would kill for it.
I am an addict and I love it.
I was brought into this by my wife almost three years ago. She is not to blame for this. I could have said no. We both could have. But we did not. We thought we could handle it. There is no doubt that we are the ones handled, not the other way around. We understand, and we submit willingly to its power.
Our lives are controlled by our addiction and we love it.
Before our addiction, we were an ambitious professional couple. I had leadership aspirations, my wife was already building and managing a solid team. We had a small house that was kept immaculately clean – we were careful about appearance. Our home loan was easily paid off by our dual incomes, our savings were solid. We were fit, healthy. We had a small, energetic, well adjusted dog.
Things are different now. We love our new normality.
I cannot spend a single day without thinking about my next hit. I get to work late and when at work already I’m jonsing for my next fix by three, fleeing the desk by five. Promotions are not a priority in the face of my need. My wife has spent more time at home than work over the last three years, and has reduced to a part time role when she is there at all. Despite all this time off work, our home is a shambles – the addiction runs us ragged, saps our energy, at the end of the day we are incapable of action. We lay on the couches, exhausted, unable to even talk. We are weak.
Every penny is now pinched – our savings are non-existent. Every spare cent goes to feeding our addiction.
Our health has been depleted. I have been nursing a persistent phlegmy cough for a month; My shirt is always crusted with a disgusting mucus. My wife has developed back aches. Sleep is a foreign country now, and we do not have valid passports.
Even the dog is affected. It cowers, hiding under tables, bushes, any cover that is close, to avoid the hurricane of our addiction.
I am dirty, poor, sick, and I love it. I love them.
I would die for them. I would kill for them.
I am an addict, and I love them.
So yes. I would definitely recommend having kids.”
This short post is dedicated to my children, B- and L-. I swear it is only partly based in fact (the dog remains well adjusted, if somewhat cautious).
Let me know if you liked this in the comments. Did I telegraph the end, or did the reveal work?
On another note, I now have a Header image, courteous of my sister’s excellent photography that you can check out at RTVisions. I should note that I made a small adjustment to the picture, so please blame me for any quality downgrades.
Edit 3 October 2014: Just found this excellent science article on ‘What is love, anyway?’ that explains the role love and Oxytocin has: love is an evolutionary tactic that helps us propagate our genetic legacy. Romantic!