So, I've found a site that lists a number of writing prompts every week. I'm going to attempt to keep up with choosing one of these to write about to ensure that I will be posting at least once a week.
This week I chose: Amy Winehouse died. Another name amidst a growing list of talented celebrities lost to addiction. Your reaction.
I've heard all the jokes and morbidly insulting comments made about Amy Winehouse before and after her death. I am not ashamed to say I am an Amy Winehouse fan. I haven't heard a voice like hers in some time. She was unique and seemed to sing with that spectacular growl that only can be made by bringing up parts of your soul to your vocal cords. I remember being excited the first time I heard her. I immediately thought she was something special.
It's always a mystery to me why some people can handle addiction and others seemingly use in a fashion that they can come and go from whatever their choice of drug is. I have never used drugs nor did I ever have an interest in even experimenting. So I don't know what these people are thinking or why they can't seem to escape their bottomless abyss of misery.
I may not be a drug user but I do know what misery is. I know what mental anguish is. I know what holding your regrets in your heart will do to you. I know the frustrations of feeling limited. So for whatever reason the question comes into play that would I feel better if I had became so oblivious to what was going on? And there is where I start to understand how addiction must start and then, in turn, continue. If I found anything that made this pain seem bearable and livable for any amount of time, would I ever stop?
Whatever demons Amy Winehouse was battling, I could see why you wouldn't want to face those ever again. If living in a state of stupor suppressed the memories, the feelings, whatever it was, I could understand why it would be so hard to stop. Why would you want to face the real world? Why wake up to the same thoughts that have haunted the memory for as long as you can remember? People are quick to make comments about Winehouse but no one has the right to judge. No one else lived in her brain. No one else knows what she was struggling to smother. I will miss her voice.
If I could have a few moments of time that my pain was unnoticeable, could I ever give that up?
