It took me several years to come to grips with the fact I had a problem. An addiction.

It's one of those things that kinda creeps up on you. The first fifteen years of my remembered life I spent knocking around several continents; doing a little of everything, some legal, some not so legal. In-between I drank, smoked, fought and chased women.

Shit happened and before I knew it I had a whole mansion full of people that don't mind seeing my ugly mug hanging around day after day. Since I had a reputation to uphold, I lit outta there fast. All that 'caring' was tough on a guy like me.

I knew something was wrong when I began to spend more time at the mansion than on the road. It was hard fitting in, what with the lifestyle I was accustom to versus the school setting at the mansion. But I stuck with it, going out to pursue other interests as often as possible.

Certain things can only stay hidden for so long before they become apparent to those around you and my addiction was no different. More than once I heard about my sneaking around. The final straw was when Cyke told me to 'take control of my life before you drive everyone crazy.'

Acceptance is the first stage to recover and I'm ready to deal with my problem. Christ, I should be in some therapy group. Hi, my name is Logan and I'm a Marie addict.

Then again maybe I'll go for private sessions.


~*~