Isolation caved in, I adore you, the sound of your skin
Recognising the Escapism
Clubbing and drinking had become my go-to methods for escaping reality. Drinks, club nights, cheap thrills— it had all become an attempt to push my problems to the back of my mind, but those problems were always waiting for me the next morning, and i dreaded them more than a hangover. The night before had often made my problems worse, much worse. A self-destructive cycle.
I had lost all sense of moderation and control. What started as occasional nights out either to ‘work’ on NLC or to see some mates turned into the persistent seven-on/zero-off pursuit of numbness. The club lights, night life – the pounding music, sea of nameless, faceless strangers, and less-than-romantic overtures— the chaos-in-dark of a night out is what I craved because it was an outward reflection of what was in my mind, it was comforting to see the world as dimly lit, chaotic, and numb as I was. But when birds chirped and my sickening phone alarm went, I was left with the same unresolved issues I had tried so hard to escape.
I realised that I wasn’t just escaping reality; I was running from myself. Every drink, every dance, every night spent trying to drown demons was only delaying the inevitable— facing the truth of what I had become; I’d catch a glimpse of myself, and I wasn’t proud of who I was anymore, and it didn’t leave much for anyone to be proud of either.
The thrill of the night fades, but the emptiness, guilt, and loneliness linger.
I knew something had to change. I had to confront the things I was avoiding, the pain that drove me to self-destruction. It wasn’t easy, and it certainly wasn’t instant, but I started to pull myself together. Being away meant I had to find healthier ways to cope. It took time, support, and a lot of self-reflection, but slowly, I started to regain control of my life.
