MY PRESSURE ESTATE - by Waripamo Allen

This isn’t fiction. This is me—fighting, surviving, trying to make sense of it all. When I drink or smoke, I feel a strange sense of safety—like I’ve slipped into a space where the weight of the world can’t touch me. For a while, I’m free from expectations, free to be myself without the burden of judgment. In those fleeting moments, I feel carefree, light, and almost happy. It’s an escape, a breath of air when everything else feels suffocating. But then, inevitably, the effects wear off, and the world rushes back in. The problems I ran from are still there, waiting—unchanged, unyielding. Music makes the escape even more powerful. When I put on the right song, it’s like I’m transported somewhere else entirely. The melodies, the lyrics, the rhythm—they carry me, amplifying every emotion, washing over me like a wave. In that space, altered and elevated, I feel something close to liberation. It’s overwhelming, intense—but there’s beauty in it, too. It makes the world feel far away, and for a moment, that distance feels like peace. There are times when I turn to this state not just for relief, but for clarity. When I’m stuck, drowning in thoughts, it somehow opens a door in my mind. Ideas start to flow, connections appear out of nowhere, and I find myself untangling problems I couldn’t face when sober. It’s as if the fog clears just enough for me to see another path—but that clarity, like everything else in this escape, is temporary. And now, I’m tired. Tired of needing an escape just to feel okay. Tired of the cycle—running, floating, crashing. I want to stop leaning on substances to carry me through. I want to learn how to stand on my own, to face what I feel without needing to alter it. I want to find a way to be okay—really okay—with who I am and what I’m going through. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even know where to begin. But by admitting this, by saying it out loud, maybe I’m taking the first step toward something better. Toward a life that feels whole—not just in moments of escape, but in every moment. And if you’re reading this, please—I need your help. If you’ve been here, if you understand, or even if you just care enough to listen, I’m asking for your advice. How do I break this cycle? How do I learn to face my challenges without reaching for a drink or a smoke? What helped you, or someone you know? Any tips, any guidance, any light you can offer—I’m open. I’m ready. I just don’t want to walk this road alone anymore. To be honest, I’m terrified to even touch this subject. I’m terrified of hearing your answers, so I tend not to say anything. But I can’t stay silent anymore. There are times when I’m not even my own friend because of my habits and lifestyle. I just don’t want to do this alone.

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