“WTF is going on?”
“My life is going to shit;
and I’m going down with it.”
I am in the midst of a mental breakdown. I wish I could so eloquently put down the circumstances leading up to my exigency. But as I try to type what I had pieced together in my head, while I had tried to mourn my flailing self-control, the monologue now escapes me.
What I can tell you, though, is that I am not taking my transition (from a bum to a full-time university student) too well. Let’s forget about the grades; the assignments or the number of horrible group projects that are just intensifying as the semester draws closer to the hellish finals. Let’s forget about the countless readings I haven’t had the time to do. Let’s forget about my commitments to extra-curriculars or even the fact that I have barely made any new friends at all. How is it that I only had to juggle my school life with my almost non-existent social life, and yet have found myself to have a dramatically diminished ‘me’ time? I am not doing ‘me’ justice. I haven’t had as much time to devote to physical activities as I had previously –coupled with my non-diet, diet, my pants seem to be only getting tighter. As I stepped on the weighing scale, the entirety of my being went into panic mode.
So, ever since, there has only ever been one clear thought on my consciousness –“I need a goddamn cigarette!”
Just yesterday, I descended into a new low point in my life. I spent the entire day desperately failing at stealing a couple of cigarettes from my father. I felt myself become angry because he was inadvertently not letting his cigarettes out of his sight. Why was the universe acting against me? Even now, I am contemplating over buying a pack of sin of my own. And now that I have typed it out, the desire is starting to overwhelm my senses.
I see and feel myself holding one of those alluring death sticks.
I can taste the unpleasantly savoury nicotine.
I can smell the smoke that lingers in the air around me.
And I most certainly long for the sweet relief that comes along with every inhalation and ensuing exhalation of carbon monoxide.
Now is a great time to mention that it has been slightly over half a year since I kicked the habit. Now, that may not seem like a very long time, unless you are on my end of the it. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy that I am no longer a smoker. I love it. But that doesn’t mean that the cravings have gone away completely (think alcoholic). I have had it under control all these while. I would remind myself of how liberating it was to be free of smoke; how much more money I was saving from not buying cigarettes; how I am in control of my life; how I am not under the control of anything but myself. Every now and then, when these nasty cravings appear, I reproach myself and consciously make a decision to suppress them.
Ironic, isn’t it?
I am purportedly ‘free’, yet I am constantly subjugated by these cravings.
Now, more so than ever.