Just one more

I’ve been sober for fifteen months now. Fifteen long months. The longer I go the harder it becomes and the louder the voices scream. Just one joint, one line, one pill. They’re trying to trick me with temptation masked by happiness. But, with that happiness is a catch. It’s a fleeting moment that only last as long as the high, then abandons you, leaving you alone with your thoughts and self-hate. I know it’s never just one: one joint, one line, one pill. One leads into two and three and four until your life turns into one fleeting moment after another. You search and search at the bottom of a bottle or as you scrape up the last few ounces of powder at the bottom of that empty plastic bag. But, the emptiness of searching soon leaves you hollow and helpless. That want consumes you. Those voices compel you.
Time after time I’ve come to learn this lesson. Always the hard way. Not this time. Not this day. I will refuse. I will stand tall. I will not break. Just one more day, one more week, one more month. I can do this. Can’t I?