Addicted to You (Devils Right Hand MC #3)

Chapter 3

Gabby's POV

Broken people attract broken people. That's just a fact of life. When I was on the street, I attracted all of the broken people: addicts, hookers, drug dealers, gang bangers, and anyone else who gave themselves to the street. What I failed to realize at the time is that I was just as broken as the rest of them.

I'm still broken, but in a different way. Maybe this is like a doctor having to rebreak a bone before putting a cast on. I have to believe that this kind of broken will only lead to small cracks, cracks that I can forget are even there.

No matter what kind of broken you are, you attract people similar to your circumstances. Some say it's because they will understand a fraction of what you are feeling, but I think it's so we feel less like an outcast.

"Thank you for sharing," a chorus of people say around me as the older man beside me finishes talking. Okay, maybe I don't attract broken people, maybe I'm forced to be in the same room with them.

"Would you like to go next?" The group leader, a middle-aged woman with light hair, asks me.

"Hi, I'm Gabby, and I'm an addict," I start with a sigh. This is the hardest adjustment I've had to make in my recovery. Sharing my innermost thoughts is a hard thing to do when you spent your whole life burying them deep inside of you and covering them with dope.

"Hi, Gabby," everyone in the room says as if they are robotic. Maybe we are robotic. Maybe we don't know how to function sober so we just become stale robots, void of emotion.

"So, um- things are finally looking up for me. Well, as 'up' as they can be I guess. I got a job, finally, my first day was actually yesterday. My boss there is really nice, she's a former street kid so she gets it, she's the first one that didn't run away screaming when she saw my record," I ramble.

"How does that make you feel, that people judge you based on your record?" The group leader asks.

"I mean it's fair. These people don't know me. They just know what society tells them to think about people like me and that's not their fault," I reason.

"I didn't ask about them, though, I asked how YOU feel?" The group leader pushes.

"I don't know how I feel about it," I mumble, but then I remember that I have to tell the truth. These people will understand how I feel, they are broken too. "You know what? Fuck that. It makes me feel like I'm suffocating. Like there's a noose around my neck, that I know I put there and I take full responsibility for that, but nobody will let me take it off. It's like I'm just waiting for something to snap and my past will hang me and I can't do a goddamn thing to stop it. It makes me question if this is even worth it because no matter how hard I work, nobody will ever see the new me, they'll just see the charges on a sheet of paper."

"That's good, Gabby," the middle-aged woman smiles. I should really learn her name, but the group leader changes every session so I never see it as necessary.

"How is that good?" I scoff. I just yelled at a group of broken people, I wouldn't call that good.

"Because every single person here feels the same way, you're just the only one brave enough to say it. It's really common for people to question when they'll outrun their past and I'm here to tell you, you never will," she says.

Well gee, thanks for that encouragement. That makes me feel so much better about my sobriety.

"You will never outrun it, but you learn from it. Then, you use it to teach other people. You can take that past and make something good out of it. It's what I did, I'm 5 years clean and now here I am, helping people who are in the exact same spot I was in. Some people use their sobriety to make art. Some people take their experiences and make music about it. Whatever you do, if you save the life of just one person, I promise you it'll be worth it," she says with a huge smile on her face.