thecockycockless

So there's an itchiness under my skin. It comes and goes, lessens and grows, depending. For a good while I've denied my addiction, treating my feelings like a conscious dabble, a plaything and a distraction in the otherwise dreary monotony that makes up everyday life. But as I am noticing physical effects I start to fear the severity of the situation. Still, parts of me laugh.

"You're not addicted", they laugh, truly amused at my worry. "You can back out of this at any time, but you don't want to. Not yet. Which is fine, cause it's fun and harmless and makes you feel things you enjoy. So stay where you are, keep at it, we've got it under control. Other people may not, but we do. The fact that we're even talking about it proves that, surely?"

I hesitate, turn to other parts of me for further guidance. They frown.

"We may have it under control", they agree, hesitantly. "But it's slipping from our grasp. We haven't slept properly for days. Our heart beat is speeding, only outrun by the myriad of thoughts careening over and around each other at dangerous speed. Haven't you noticed how it stops, how it calms, when you subject yourself? Doesn't that tell us that we are developing an addiction not merely of the mind - we've had many of those before, those are commonplace and manageable - but of the body? And that those symptoms are worsening with each day? I say we put an end to this now. Start backing away. It will hurt, but it will pass, and we will wean ourselves from this need before it becomes a necessity to live."

"Such nonsense", the confident parts snort, making me turn my attention back to them. "The sleep deprivation has nothing to do with this, you know that. You're freaking out because you always freak out when things are too enjoyable. Because you're an idiot. Just stay here, trust our judgement which points to the fact that it's just a bit of fun. Nothing more. Something else will eventually turn up and drag your attention elsewhere, as it always does. You're not stuck, you're not addicted, you're just passing time. And having fun doing it, drawing experiences and ideas from it."

The other parts start to argue back, and I get so confused listening to them as they both say things that make sense. I take a few steps back, to leave them to it, trying to pay attention whilst I try to decide which one I should listen to. Suddenly I notice the final parts of me, standing as a silent observer in the shadows. When they see me having noticed them they grin, maliciously or not I cannot tell. I swallow.

"It's cute", they say, quietly so that only I can hear them, but authorative enough so that I feel the truth in their words. "How you think you have a way out of this."

"I do", I object, voice not as confident as such words would demand. "I can stop when I want, if I want."

The argument between the other parts ongoing in the background, but I no longer hear them, as I see the grin in the shadows grow. And that it is malicious.