Slowly

Let me adapt the intro of an article I recently read about job addiction:

"I am Joub. I am a workaholic. It's an addiction like any other. Except that if you have it, they pay you more. Actually, a lot more. I am recovering though. I have to. The Japanese have a word for the problem: karoshi --- meaning death from overwork. I am not talking about literal death. I am talking about death of a soul: a dependency on stress, aggravation, power, and control; an inability to think about anything but business deals, meetings, upcoming challenges; draining away of the joy we should feel about food, drink, family, love, sex and children."

I left work a little over a month. I broke down, or shall I say, I broke free. I freed myself from the ties that bound me with my profession and the rat race I have been running for the last eight years. I will spare you the reasons that drove me to LEAVE the company, but needless to say, the reasons were huge enough to make me let go of the hand that feeds me and my family, and finally decide to LIVE.

I am sobering up now. But the path to recovery ain't easy. It is filled with struggles like withdrawal syndrome, boredom, anxiety, feeling of uselessness, fear of the future, and pressure from the people I left in the field. So as not to succumb to any of it, I live my life one day at a time. I also surround myself with people I love and care for me. I exercise regularly and follow a healthier diet to flush all the stress and toxins I've collected through the years. I also try, once in a while, to be alone and get comfortable with silence and the state of non-thinking. I also keep a notebook handy to help me organize my thoughts; write down everything I plan to straighten up in my life and rebuild dreams for the future.

I hope to be well soon. I pray that if and when I choose to go back to work, I will not forget the learnings I got from this phase of my life.