A Goodbye Letter To My Addiction

For years, addiction and I shared a complicated relationship. You promised comfort when I needed it, but in return, you took everything from me. You made me believe I was invincible, that I didn’t need anything or anyone else. But deep down, I knew I was losing myself.

Writing this letter is my way of saying goodbye to the hold you’ve had over my life. It’s time to let go, to heal, and to take back what I lost. This is my final farewell to you.

Dear Addiction,

When I first met you, I didn’t know what to think. You made me feel alive, powerful, and fearless, but something inside me knew something wasn’t right. At first, I enjoyed the escape you provided. I felt like I could be the person I always wanted to be smart, confident, and free. But deep down, I knew you were slowly taking pieces of me away.

I changed. I stopped hanging out with friends. I skipped class to be with you. I used money that should’ve been for my future to fuel this toxic relationship. But you flattered me, didn’t you? You told me I was different, that I didn’t need anyone but you. You convinced me I was smarter than others, that I could handle it all. And for a while, I believed you.

You made me think I didn’t need anyone else. My friends, my family none of them mattered, you said. You said school was pointless, and I could make money in other ways. It felt like you understood me better than anyone else, and I began to believe you. You had me trapped in your lies, isolating myself from the world.

But then the cracks started to show. I was spending weeks at a time holed up in my apartment with only you. I tried to go out, but I could barely stand to be away from you. After only a couple hours, you would pull me back, telling me if I didn’t come home, I’d suffer consequences. You threatened me with depression, anxiety, and sickness. I could hear you calling me even when I was with others, and I began to lose everything my friends, my relationships, my happiness.

I tried leaving you. I really did. For a while, I got clean, stayed sober, and thought I had won. I found a job, got a girlfriend, and thought I was starting over. There were moments of joy when I laughed with friends or spent time with my family. I even started to believe I could stay away from you forever. But I wasn’t ready. One weak moment, one argument with my girlfriend, and there you were again. I thought it was just a one-time thing, but you didn’t let go. You pulled me back in, harder than before.

From then on, my life became a blur. I spiraled. My money disappeared, I was drowning in debt, and the law caught up with me. I ended up in prison, and even then, you found a way to stay close. You sent me to the hospital more times than I care to count. And yet, I still couldn’t break free. I felt trapped, isolated, hopeless.

But then, something changed. I don’t know why I waited so long to ask for help. Maybe it was pride, or fear. But when I finally did, it felt like a weight lifted. I called someone I knew who had been sober for years. He told me I didn’t have to fight you alone anymore.

I entered a detox center, and the first few days were brutal. I could feel you calling me, reminding me of everything you had promised. I was sick, both physically and emotionally. But slowly, your grip started to loosen. I went to inpatient treatment, met others who had been through the same thing, and for the first time, I didn’t feel alone. We shared our stories, our pain, and I realized that addiction doesn’t have to define me.

Now, three years later, I’m living a life I never thought I could have. I’ve gone back to school, and I’m close with my family again. I have a supportive girlfriend, and I’m building meaningful friendships. I don’t miss you anymore. I don’t crave you. And I don’t blame you either. You were just part of a much bigger struggle I had to face within myself.

I’ve learned that recovery is a process one that doesn’t end after rehab or sober living. Every day, I do what I have to do to stay sober: counseling, 12-step meetings, talking with others who are fighting the same battle. I’ve learned to accept that my past doesn’t have to dictate my future. And though I know I’ll never forget you, I also know that I’m stronger than you.

If I ever return to you, I know I’d be lost again. But I’m determined to never go back. I’ll keep pushing forward, one day at a time. And if my story can help just one person, that’s all I need.

So, this is goodbye. For good.

Ashton

Writing a letter to your addiction is not just about saying goodbye. It’s about acknowledging the impact of addiction, empowering yourself, and creating a path for healing. It’s a step toward reclaiming control of your life and building the foundation for lasting recovery.

• It helps you acknowledge the deep emotional and psychological effects addiction has had on your life. By expressing your feelings, you start to release the weight of the addiction and its hold on you.
• Addiction often creates feelings of being stuck, helpless, or controlled. It symbolizes the end of that chapter and allows you to move forward with a renewed sense of purpose and freedom.
• You take control of the narrative and your recovery. By expressing your feelings and declaring your decision to let go, you reclaim your life from the grip of addiction.
• The letter allows you to reflect on why you’re choosing to recover. When you read the letter later, it can remind you of your strength and the resolve that helped you make the decision to fight back.
• It’s a way to track your recovery journey and look back on your growth. Reading it later can be a powerful reminder of the challenges you’ve overcome.
• In the letter, you can also express forgiveness for yourself. Addiction often comes with feelings of guilt and shame. It’s a chance to say, “I know you made mistakes, but I’m learning, I’m healing, and I’m ready to move forward.”