A Letter From a Wounded Heart

I was just 17 — a scared kid.

I was terrified of losing myself.

My family was never truly supportive.
I was always considered the “worst” kid.

No one ever asked me what I needed, or what I truly wanted.
Yes — I had financial support.
Everything material was available even before I asked.
But what I really craved was time. Attention. Love.

My parents thought I was happy because I had everything money could buy.
But I wasn’t. I needed them.
And when I couldn’t find time and care at home, I went looking elsewhere.

That search led me to the wrong places.

I found friends.
The kind that felt like a family at first — but weren’t.
I got into drinking. Then drugs.
My family didn’t notice at first — they never thought I could be struggling.
But slowly, they found out.

By 19, I was a full-blown addict. A shadow of who I could have been.

Something good happened. I fell in love.

I met someone.
He stayed.
He saw something in me I had long forgotten.

He tried to help.
I made promises. I broke them. Again and again.
But he didn’t leave. He’s still here.

Now I’m turning 24… and I’m still struggling.

My parents have given up.
They see me as a spoiled brat, someone beyond help.

But I want to change.
I want to leave the addiction.
Yet I can’t stay sane without the substances — not yet.

Still, something in me has shifted.
Because of him.
He’s shown me what love can do.
That it’s not money that matters — it’s time, care, presence.

I’m not sharing this for sympathy. I’m sharing it for someone like me.

Someone who might be quietly losing themselves and doesn’t know how to ask for help.

If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction — please know that help exists.
You don’t have to go through this alone.

Reach out to iDare’s ‘Support’ and ‘Engage’ verticals for affordable and inclusive help.

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Image Credits – Pexels