Addiction is one of my greatest fears in life. I’ve watched it destroy lives and turn loved ones into people I barely recognize. It’s an existential threat that’s permanently encoded into the very essence of the human condition. And as someone with chronic depression, I know just how easy it is to relinquish control to one’s vices.

This photo narrative was created shortly after my 21st birthday, and it depicts my relationship with vices and addiction at that pivotal point in my life. These images are a manifestation of some of my deepest fears. They bring life to that voice in my head telling me to give it all up and commit to an endless spiral of despair and depravity. I turn myself into a monster in this narrative, both physically and metaphorically. As I look in the mirror, I see myself as a withered, amorphous form—depression incarnate. And in response, I opt to drown these visions in pills and alcohol, banishing the monster from my consciousness. But a monster exists on both sides of the mirror. I present myself as dirty and disheveled. Everything in these photos is so deliberately ugly. The bathroom sink is a mess of pills, bottles, assorted toiletries, and haphazardly strewn garbage. The lighting is abrasive, highlighting every imperfection in the scene. And as the story progresses, a bright red glow envelops the room until rage and catharsis are all that remain.

To this day, I’m fully sober. Even the fanfare and societal pressures of finally coming of age didn’t sway me enough to touch a drop of alcohol. I’ve seen addiction destroy people I love. I’ve seen it turn people into the worst versions of themselves. And at times, I’ve seen the worst version of myself in those people. My 21st came with expectations that I would drink, at least once. I didn’t.

- Colby Wygal