If there had been a tunnel from my dark little apartment to the liquor store, I would have taken it, every. Single. Day.

While out there, being invisible was all I really wanted.

Please, please don’t look at me.

That memory came to mind when I was walking through Amsterdam this afternoon, and watched a guy cross the street in a hurry, aiming for his front door without looking around.

I saw myself, in a split second, I experienced many painful years of living for the thing that I both hated and couldn’t be without, over and over again.

Numbing out.

Existing JUST enough to try and wipe out whatever I was thinking.

Going from feeling terrified to feeling nothing.

In those days, being outside made me feel utterly vulnerable and insecure, and I only felt safe when I was home, preferably on my own.

When I was out in the world I never looked up, my face hidden under hats and caps and hoodies and beard, always afraid of running into some kind of social event.

It was like I was holding my breath the whole time, from the moment I left my house till I got back, waiting for the sound of my front door closing behind me so I could catch some air again.

Amsterdam was a hostile city filled with harsh noise.

The streets were layered with eggshells.

An imaginary war zone.

How could I forget that awful, dark routine?

Where are the years of living like a broken shell (at most), of diving headfirst in a barrel of vodka whenever I could, of smoking weed all night long and not being able to sleep until I had to leave for work, only to collapse with exhaustion?

Did that actually happen?

I hardly ever think back to the times when alcohol and drugs and cynicism were the main attractions in life, and avoiding people seemed to be my most valuable skill.

I just don’t.

This is not a deliberate thing, nor is it fueled by shame or discomfort: it just doesn’t come up.

It’s not part of my days anymore.

It’s no longer me.

This afternoon a guy I don’t know reminded me of a man I had forgotten.

Funny how you get used to miracles.

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(Photo by @aliend_photography, for Unsplash)