It’s that first taste. The thrill. The anticipation of the next high. The feeling of power in your fingertips. The mere sight of the object of your desire results in a rush of adrenaline coursing through the veins. Nothing can stop the urge to take it all the way to the end. It comes upon like a runaway train, without warning, without mercy.
I found myself there, staring into the eyes of frenzied addiction. It was calling me, gently, but urgently. I tried valiantly to avert my eyes. I tried repeating over and over, “do not get swept in because there is no escape”, but I couldn’t help myself. The temptress in question was swaying in the breeze, her purple plumes dancing in the distance.
I couldn’t stop myself. I was weak. I went to her. I dropped to my knees. I reached out. I ripped her from the planting bed, knowing that doing so was only going to fuel my desire. And that was it. It took ahold of me with an iron grip. My long list of that day’s important chores and projects would go undone as I tumbled down the familiar path of compulsion.
I blame my relapse on that one purple weed. I tried to convince myself that picking just that one wouldn’t lead to anything. I vowed I could stop whenever I wanted. I promised myself I would pick a couple of the big ones. But I was in a zone; all I could see were the weeds hiding amongst the garlic crop. My hands trembled as I frantically ripped one and then another from the raised bed. My nails black with dirt, my knees sore and my back aching, but I kept on in a frenetic pace. My focus so complete that I didn’t even notice that I was kneeling in a fire ant pile until the sting of their orchestrated attack ripped through my calf and thigh. They bite in unison, but the white blaze of pain was only a momentary deterrent. I must. I will. I cannot stop my quest to eradicate every weed from this bed.
Three hours later, Steve found me, hovering over the crop with glazed eyes and raw hands. I was spent. I was on the dark side of it all. The high, it was replaced with guilt and remorse. How could I have given in so easily? I thought I was stronger than that. One minute I am a responsible farmer just out to do a quick check on the sugar snap pea seeds I had planted two days ago and the next I am a crazed fiend chasing that elusive high. In that one moment I had lost all control and now I had to pay the price and then rebuild my resolve to not get lured in again by my dark seductress.
You heard it here first people. Weeding addiction. It is the devil’s work.