WordPress asked “What’s on your mind” so here I am, spending approximately fifteen minutes writing about what I’m thinking at the moment. I haven’t really given it much thought for the last five years, but I am starting to see (and feel) that I’ve turned into someone who I’ve dreaded I would become someday; WORKAHOLIC. It shouldn’t have been a bad thing, but as I’ve always been told since I could chew; too much of a good thing can be bad. My, my, my. Just when I thought I’m keeping things on a moderate level, it turns out I went a little overboard.
It seems impossible when working from home. Well, that’s completely wrong. Having this comfortable environment, and knowing that your family is just around, there’s a huge possibility that one would feel too comfortable–comfortable that they’d be there all the time–until they’re not there anymore. Or worse, until you’ve drifted farther away from them.
But I didn’t fall into that deep end, not just yet anyway. I didn’t really want to address it, until I tried accepting the fact that I can only do so much. And that not everything can be done. I really love my job–and that’s my fault. I put a lot into it, every day of my life for the past half decade, that I start to neglect that other part of who I am and what I have. I am happy with my job, and the people I work with. I am just not happy anymore with what I’ve become.
The fact that I had to eat here inside the room (just because I can’t leave what I’m doing) makes me wonder even more–is this what spending time with my family while working really means? I know, this is how I get the job done, but it meant I had to skip having lunch/dinner with my family. It might seem a little petty, I just realized that no matter what excuse I make for myself, the truth is I’m alienating myself from my family. It wasn’t intentional, but it is what I said it is.
Sure, I play my guitar or uke once in a while. But that’s just it. I can do that on my own, in between breaks, or during my day-off. I didn’t think that it would affect me this much, but it is just sad. It is sad that I had to skip out on some weekend getaways or eat-out with family/friends. It is sad that I am here, physically, but in reality, I’m not.
I’m not complaining, though. I took this upon myself, and it is because of my own doing why I feel this way. Or maybe I’m just PMS-ing, I don’t know. But this, I’m sure of: workaholism is real. And it is up to you whether you allow yourself to be sucked in permanently or do something for yourself to break that cycle.