Hi, my name is Akil and I'm a...

My dad was an addict. Where I'm from his vice was a pretty common one amongst men so I was one of many kids that came second, third or whatever I was ranked to an unexplainable desire. Though, I knew I was one of many, I always felt like I was an exception because I acknowledged how his addiction was slowly eroding the foundation of our family and really took heed of the consequences he faced from a very, very young age.

When I was 7, I endured a lot and within the course of 3 years, I truly came to the realization that in this world we live in, you can only depend on yourself to be your confidant, your backbone and the only pure source of truth. This drove me to make a lot of firm decisions - promises I vowed never to break. I was eight when I promised myself to never be an addict like my father. I told myself I would never allow myself to be addicted to anything in this world and if I had a family of my own one day, I would guarantee no desire overpowers my love for them and they'll never feel an ounce of neglect. Over the years I've made sure that's the case: once upon a time I was writing music everyday and I decided to stop writing for a year and when the time had came to restart, I chose to continue my drought to prove I was not addicted to it. If you know me to some degree, you know I have an unhealthy obsession with cheese, so when I chose to give it up for a year awhile back you could imagine everyone's shock. But the need to show myself it was an urge I could control overridden the love I had for it. I remember in the midst of my challenge I caught myself deep diving in a bag of quavers and after a whole lot of profanity my challenge rebooted, because a year without my little diary buddies was the plan and nothing or noone was going to change that. Unfortunately, due to spending a lot of time focusing on minor factors such as these, I overlooked the enormous fight that was brewing under my nose as a result of a few terrible choices. Sadly, I have a vice now... A part of me is glad to know it's not the same one as my dad but in the end you find that a vice is still a vice and an addict is still...

Despite the evident friction that existed between myself and my dad, I always felt the need to excuse his actions in my head. In his eyes I seldom saw the look of love for his family, and in the same breath I could see the overwhelming sense of remorse and self-contempt he was battling with due to the pain he had inflicted upon us but he still made the effortless decision to go back out in the world yet again for his fix. Little did I know this decision wasn't effortless at all. I remember there was a moment, I was 8 or 9 and I realised he was really trying to fight his desires but he was so powerless, and it was just of no avail. It made me see him in another light. A good dad was not only his shell but a title he was fighting to live up too everyday and what a battle it was. I always thought it must be hard, having to fight everyday, especially when you're constantly surrounded by your "weakness" and it's a common manner in which your gender bonds. But I underestimated how much of a fight it was! It didn't dawn on me in the slightest how many times the thought of pursuing his fix had crossed his mind in a minute, nor the time or energy spent in pursue or indulgence, the constant influences, the disgust he must have felt after his high had ended, nor how vaguely he remembers the feeling of disappointment when the need to chase that high once more creeps up on his bones. I keep picturing those closest to me and how hurt they would be by my actions if things were to worsen, just like I was, with my dad. I remember as a kid I thought hurting those around you was the worst or better yet most selfish thing an addict could ever do but I learned eventually that's definitely not the case. The worst part is fully comprehending how much you're hurting yourself, and the extent of how bad things could get (especially if you're enduring a relapse), but strongly feeling like the you, that fool with the need for this "high" is a giant compare to the meek, determined comrade of a shell fighting in your corner. Having to battle with that feeling of helplessness, need for control and self-love while coiled up in the tight chokehold of despair is hard! And as the old saying goes if you can't help yourself how can you help those around you. It's difficult trying to convey this to someone that will never truly understand because even if they walk the same lines, they haven't walked in your shoes. 

One of the lessons I've learned is that it does feel like a losing game or at least a waiting one. You feel as though once the door has been opened and this battle has left its muddy footprints on what use to be the clean carpets of your history, then it's an eternal fight to put a stop to the string of bad before this carpet turns into quicksand. You find yourself persistently trying to make it back to the starting line to recover and gain a semblance of control once more, but - sometimes hope is all you got and need my friend. Maybe it's time to realize the starting mark is no longer where you belong, this is where you are right now and this day marks a clean slate or as "clean" as you can possibly make it. It's o.k to say your hands are tainted and that you've been through a lot and still experiencing a lot. It's o.k to admit you need help and SEEK HELP. It's o.k to breakdown, apologise, and SPEAK about it and it's o.k to admit you're not o.k but you're trying to be. One day at a time, that's the motto.

I don't quite know how to end this... We all have our demons and no matter how dark our days may seem - remember they are 'days', therefore light exist, seek it! Maybe then the fight won't seem so dark, cold and as though it'll be a big loss eventually regardless of your efforts. Focus on navigating your way to where you hope to be. You know what's ironic, when I was younger and I started making promises to myself, I promised never to break a promise... It's funny how things and people change... We can only try to be better and cope with the changes that stem from our decisions - don't beat yourself to a pulp. I heard yesterday a lot of us give up on ourselves too easily but as long as we're alive there's still time on the clock, you can make it through all four quarters - KEEP GOING! I hope there's a young kid preferably a boy reading this right now and I made you understand that your mom or dad doesn't love their vice more than they do you, they're just enduring more than you're able to fathom and they are aware that they're a chip on your shoulder but their goal is to avoid turning that chip into a boulder and they're fighting hard to be less of a burden or disappointment. The hurt is not intentional - TRUST, that I can promise. Forgive and support a positive change in any way you can. I didn't show my father much love in this regard but maybe you can break the cycle.