Posts Tagged ‘addictions’


Slow down. Take precaution. Life is fragile.

__________ Weird. This is how I describe it. This is a blog entry on an encounter to one’s own self. A foreign self. An alien. And I did not know this about me. I am changing I think. Over time, I am metamorphosing. Somehow I am scared. Scared of what I’ll discover about myself.

I’ve been always not certain about me. I do not know me. I do stuff that I do not even think I would ever do. This happened a lot during my teenage years. It happens to many others I guess. But suddenly, it is all coming back to me. Just today, I realized it. And I am afraid. I do not want to go back to this phase. I know I can do things I will regret doing for the rest of my life.

Sunday. Today. I did not plan to go to the lab. But somehow I am looking for something. Something to do. To kill time. I have my Sunday routine, but not this time. I did not go to church. I don’t feel like going. I do not know why. I went to the lab instead. I was determined to do some experiment. And a lot of reading. I was determined. Yet, I did not do any of these.

I went facebooking instead. It was quite a while I did not open my facebook account. I thought it will be worthwhile to update myself on other’s business. Once in a while it is.

I hoped to have some conversations with good old friends. And this I did. The usual chitchat with some friends. It gave me some entertainment. And it felt good. Did not notice the passing of the time. When I looked through the window it was starting to get dark. This prompted me to go down to the lab to, at least, clean and organize my space. Took just a few minutes to do this. I decided to better go home than to waste time on more non sense internet surfing. I had a lot of mess to clean in the apartment too, and maybe I can cook something. Or bake a cake I thought. I prepared to leave. While leaving, I spotted a cigarette box which was laying on my desk for quite a while. It wasn’t mine. I found it just there. I took a stick and came looking for a lighter in the laminar hood. I lit the cigarette, puffed a little, unlocked my bike and went biking while finishing off my stick.

I wonder. Why am I doing this?! I got over this thing years back. Why would I want to smoke this time? I asked questions in my mind. Lots of questions. I answered them. I tried to answer them. But I can not find appropriately satisfying answers. I know I am rationalizing. Trying to defend my smoking. I shivered.

I knew right then I am indeed “changing”. My usual defense mechanism upon encounter of an emotional baggage. I will not deny it. I am not happy. Well, I say I am happy. I got all smiles on my face all the time. However, loneliness is a constant visitor. A daily visitor I should say. And when this happens, I develop a habit. Weird things I start doing. Stuff I hate, I do. I despise vices. I never like being addicted to something like a stupid computer game. I always believed being addicted is to be a prisoner. And I despise it. I do not want to be a prisoner. But somehow, somewhere, at some point, I lost. I always lose. In the battle with my own self.

When I broke up an engagement last year, I went through a bad depression. Similar emotional baggage. I could not sleep. This resulted to bad performance at work (..at some point, but I managed to keep my track after a few weeks, thank God). Bad performance made me hate myself and this resulted to stress. I could not eat. And I lost a lot of weight. I tried to find things to help with my depression. Finally, I sorted to alcohol. I began a habit of drinking alcohol every night. Not that I get drunk or something. It just helps me sleep. I could not sleep, no matter what I do and how I do it, without alcohol. I do not drink (and get drunk). Not that I condemn it. I have nothing against drinking. I do drink occasionally, but I seldom do it in public. I drink alone, for the sake of enjoying a drink. However, getting drunk is a different thing. Well, I did. During college. But I managed to get it out of my system. But this particular situation brought me back to alcohol days. I would even wear the title “alcoholic” if you would ask me. I reached the point that I became dependent on alcohol for sleeping. Days, weeks, and months passed. I became better. I regained “freedom” and I started to love myself again. I have forgiven me. I am happy and whole again. This I thought.

Today, I smoked my first stick after years of not having it.


I moved to Europe last month. I know I have a mission to finish here. A project to get done, and a learning to do. To learn to live life. Got experiences to take… to refine my character and test my attitude. But it is hard. It is hard. Of course, I know it will get better. I am just starting. I am adjusting. Just starting to lit the fire. The flame has not been put up. Not yet. I am not in a hurry either.

The lonely star girl

For the past weeks, big changes have happened. It was overwhelming. Time passed by too quickly and I guess I was not prepared just yet. Weird habits have developed in me. I am not aware when did it start. Every night here in the foreign land, I look up at the sky and stare at the stars. I stare and stare until I fall asleep. I never knew you can actually stare at something so distant that it looks so tiny… On cloudy nights and no stars are visible, I feel deep sadness. Somehow I associate it with looking back home, trying to remember how home feels like, how it looks it. What my family and friends back home look like. Obviously, it is homesickness. Loneliness. I never felt so so far away before. Time zone made it even more difficult. More than anything else I need someone to talk to. I tried to be online whenever I can. But usually when I am online, nobody’s there on the internet. It tears my heart apart every single moment. I cry. I thank God that I am not embarrassed of crying. Almost every night, I cry myself to sleep. It helps me. A lot. It is healthy.

I know in the days to come, I will sort to drinking beer and smoking again. I have started drinking beer for the past few weeks now. And the last time I went grocery shopping, I found myself checking on cigarette and beer prices. I sighed.

It is a battle. This is a battle with one’s own self.



(Note that photos here are not mine. I got them from the internet. )


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