I picked up smoking when I was 16 and smoked regularly until I was 22.5. I’d smoke in the morning when I woke up, I’d smoke after meals, smoke when stressed, smoke when relaxed.
For 6 years, I was clearly a smoker. It was a part of my identity. I have since shed it- I cut my smoke-stained skin open and ripped myself out of it, bloody, breathless, shivering.
You might think that this is going to be about my journey into and out of smoking. It isn’t. It would’ve been, if it didn’t reveal to me that I have a far greater addiction.
I’m not sure if I’ve slain the smoking demon yet, but I’ve definitely made a significant dent in it. I see it for what it is. It isn’t a part of me. I don’t need it.
But something terrifying happened- I realized that smoking is just one thing. It’s just one false idol to be broken and trampled on. Surely there are others.
And then I saw it. Far deeper. Much closer. Far more familiar. Smoking was a demon that I had flirted with, been seduced by, I adopted- and he would bring my attention to one within me.
Procrastination. The saboteur. Anxiety. Fear. Incompetence. This demon was playing the long game. Cigarettes were, for me, like Sirens out at sea. I thought I could handle them. I went searching for them. The saboteur? he was on my ship all along. One of my crew- my right hand. A parasite of the highest order, corrupting me in the most insidious manner.
Is it a habit? It’s almost a way of being. I chatted with my boss about it and he pointed out that I ought to be really pissed off that I’m being held back by the most trivial of things- the simplest of things.
So I need to learn and practice the art of focus. I need to stop allowing my mind to wander off on tangents when I need it to stick to the matter at hand.
It’s incredibly frustrating for me because it makes me realise that I’ve been limiting myself my whole life. I make these grand overtures about wanting to change the world, but how can I do that if I can’t even change myself? What right do I have to tell the world or should change? The most I can do is to be the change I want to see.
These days I can’t help but feel like I’m in disneyland, but with lead in my shoes. The only thing holding me back is me. And in this realm there is no compromise, no draws, you win or you lose. Delaying the point of confrontation is a losing preposition.
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The number one problem in my life right now- and it’s a really old problem, possibly the oldest- is my inability to focus. My lack of personal responsibility and discipline. This has been a source of pain, fear, anxiety and stress in my life for way too long- ever since I was in primary school. It’s very deep rooted- I often have dreams in which guilt is the dominant emotion- I did something I wasn’t supposed to do, or I didn’t do something that I was. This had been a huge problem for me and it has crippled and limited me for a ridiculously long time.
A part of me used to rationalize that it’s not worth doing anything if you can anticipate the outcome. There’s no point going into the lift and pressing all the buttons just so you can experience what that might feel like. That’s boring. You can infer what that experience might be like. All you need is a little imagination.
But I realize that I started using this to rationalize inaction and inability in things far more complex than lift-button pressing. I started thinking- if you study hard you’ll get good grades, and you can kinda imagine what that’s like- so studies are boring and not worth your time.
That made sense before, but it has a fundamental flaw- it gives too much credit to the imagination. It assumes that all you see- and all you can imagine- is all there is. That’s the fatal flaw. Because I don’t know what I don’t know. While I can infer something about the experience of going up the elevator, I can’t infer very much about the view from the top while I’m still on the ground.
That’s the mistake I made. I threw the baby out with the bathwater. I experienced cognitive dissonance as follows:
As a member of the human species, I am “above average”. I am literate, educated, I can make sense of things that some other people struggle with. I seem to be in a good place- it’s tolerable, comfortable. I am in reasonably good health. I have a great command of the English language. I have good friends, god conversations. I have a blog that people read and share. I’m a public figure, you know. Invited to meet the PM at the Istana. Quora Top Writer. Big fuck lah.
At the same time- I am irresponsible. Incompetent. Irresponsible. I have been a huge source of frustration for all my teachers and workmates over the years. I never did my homework. Confession time- you know that asshole in school who was never contactable and never did his share of the work? That was me. The only reason I still have friends might be because… I try to be nice to people, and the quality of my last minute work isn’t too bad. I think it was Neil Gaiman who said you only need 2 out of 3- be nice, be punctual, be good. I’m reasonably nice and almost always late. Good is debatable.
And you know what, I’m fucking tired of this shit. I’m tired of having to apologize for the fucked up saboteur in my head.
Almost every single teacher I’ve had has scolded me or thrown me out of class. A maths teacher ripped my sheets in half. My favourite English teacher yelled at me so loud, the fellas 3 classrooms away heard it. I’ve beeb reprimanded and sent for detention and made to write lines.
I might be colouring this with rose-tinted glasses but I think I was always civil about it. I was always sorry that I had spoilt my teacher’s mood- but being sorry was not enough for me to change my behaviour.
In primary 4 and 5, my classmates carried me on most team projects. I’d do the final writing. I’d go for tuition and not do my homework at all- I went to a pretty expensive place and my parents were essentially paying me to socialize. (On hindsight, still worth it- I made great friends). I fabricated survey results. I would go uncontactable. I had a D&T project in sec 2 that I contributed almost nothing to. My groupmate was really, really pissed off. I skived. I once skived from an IT club competition- some quiz- and pretended to be my own sister to say I wasn’t home. That might’ve been my all time low.
Time and time again my life is littered with instances where I’m diminished to a pathetic, grovelling wisp of a person. When I was a student councillor in JC, I shirked my duties and spent all my time sleeping. Even as a musician- something I was passionate about- I’d often turn up to gigs unrehearsed, unprepared.
I have been a minnow of a man, whose word has been worthless.
It has to stop. I can’t go on living a life that is characterized by the overdue.
A friend asked me- what intrinsic weaknesses do you have and what did you do to overcome them? I haven’t overcome them. But the answer seems to be… baby steps.
Step by step is correct. Focus has to be practised – you get better at it.
(Of course, that’s just part of the solution.)