It’s a lot like watching a catastrophic car crash but losing all of your senses, rendering you useless while feeling helpless.
I want you to feel better. I want you to be ok. But you’ve gone so far past the point of being human that you’re living in a shell of yourself. It happens slowly, but also all at once. You’re not even on the same wavelength to realize all the destruction your causing. You want to feel better but you’re self-medicating to feel less.
We’ve all had the same talks that turned into heated discussions that eventually turned into screaming matches only to be ended in avoidance and silence. We repeat the cycle because it’s what we’ve become accustomed too. It goes beyond reckless fun. It’s endangerment.
For anyone who’s watching someone spiral you need to know that it’s not your fault. It’s not because your voice isn’t loud enough, it’s because your voice is not part of the noise they’ve become addicted to. They’ve found a new soundtrack to score their lives. Every time they act out, you’ll think you’ve had enough but then you realize that there’s a person you used to know who bleeds the same blood you share. Suddenly, it’s not such an easy dismissal.
You’ll have a lot of residual guilt because every possible “what if?” scenario will run through your head. It’s like a rubber band because no matter how much resistance, there’s a sweet comfort in knowing it’s not going to snap. But with every new incident, we come closer to snapping and yet we don’t.
We don’t snap because we’re stronger then we let on. Because watching someone you love spiral into a deep abyss of nothingness isn’t something you can easily recover from. The same way recovery isn’t easy for them. It’s a long, hard road.