Murphy sat in the NA group with his cigarette unlit but dangling from his fingers all the same. "I'm so heavy, I'm floating. Can't get higher than this as I sink into bliss." He glanced up for the briefest moment but he saw understanding in the faces of the other horse addicts. "I remember how that felt, but no matter how many times I chased after that, couldn't get it back. The feeling faded more and more until all I could get was sick."
There were knowing murmurs making the rounds through the dozen or so twelve steppers at this meeting.
He sat back with a force that rocked the folding chair. "I thought H was freedom at first but then I found out it's the opposite. It's negative freedom. It's a chain with an ever increasing weight at the end dragging me down until I nearly drown in my own puke."
When it became apparent that Murphy wasn't going to say anything else, the group leader nodded. "Thank you for sharing, John."
There were two more stories before the group dispersed. Murphy made sure to fill the super sized paper cup he got at McDonald's up with coffee before leaving. This had been the first time he volunteered to speak at one of these things. After nearly two years of lurking, he gave in and shared the thing that's always on his mind. It didn't help though. He still wanted nothing more than to get high. But like he said in the meeting, it wouldn't be worth it. There was no high anymore. What if it would be like before? Since he'd been clean for seventeen months? Would it be the dream it'd been?
Shoving out the church doors with enough force to crack the door off the wall, John shook the thought off. 'Not worth it! There's been enough blood spilt."