It’s Not a Narcotic

Filed in General, LifeTags:

It has the affects of a narcotic but it's not a drug.

When I have it, I'm happy.

When I am about to be separated from it, I feel upset and frustrated.

When I am without it, I am mildly depressed, unhappy, lethargic, restless. I want it back. I think about it. I dream about it. Its influence and its absence can lead me to do things and make decisions that I would not otherwise do or make.

And yet, it is not mine to control or own, and it cannot within sane reason be a part of my life for it would disrupt what I already have. It might evolve to bring pleasure but it would more likely bring disorder, perhaps even disaster.

Logically, I should minimise my exposure to it, but its affects are so strong and desirable that this may be impossible for me to do.

One future day in my acting career, I will hopefully be able to recall and use the collection of feelings that this thing produces in me. For the time being though, I must wrestle with it, analyse it, accept it, refuse it, ignore it, and eventually move on.

It is not love. It is not sex. It is not a narcotic, nor is it a drug, at least not the kind that we normally associate with the word. And while in many ways it may be similar to caffeine, it's effect is far more virulent.

Fortunately, it will not be here forever, and once it is gone, I will be freed from its spell although even that event itself will bring me some sorrow.

Life. What an adventure!