You know the rush is coming. You have been there before. It is always as good as the last time. Maybe even better sometimes. All the whole time, you are aiming for that rush. You know that rush feeling and you have to have it. It is all you can think of when you are draining every last ounce of energy out of your body in pursuit of it.
Then you are numb. Satisfied, but numb. Then, after a while, you just lie there, and you feel the drain.
All the energy you once had, you once expended, is gone. The drain has taken effect. The rush is but a memory. A great memory, but a memory. You remember the rush, but that great feeling is long gone and you can barely, if at all, remember the feeling of the rush. The rush lives in the moment, and the moment is brief. Then it is gone. The rush's by-product, the drain, has taken its grip. It lasts much longer and you always remember the feeling of the drain, even as you approach the rush again. You know the drain is coming after the rush, and you know it doesn't feel good. But, you don't care. You want the rush, at any costs.
I keep telling myself that I will never do this again. Drain myself like this. It is unhealthy. It serves no purpose, other than the incredible rush it brings. I tell myself I won't succumb to the rush, but I know I will. As soon as the drain has ended, and the energy has accumulated again, I will seek out the rush and drain myself again. And again. And again. And again. One day, the energy simply won't return. Or the hunger for the rush won't be there anymore. Or, maybe it will always be there and I will be the slave to the master that is the rush.
As bad as the drain is, the rush is much more powerful and overwhelming. I am the moth to the light. No matter how much I know about the rush, and the drain, I will fly into that light until the rush is not powerful anymore. That means, likely, never.