I am addicted. Addiction is a disease.
By definition, a disease must have a couple of components. It must have a cause, signs and symptoms, progression, an outcome, and most importantly, it must have a treatment.
Addiction shows signs through the coldness that addicts turn, creating an atmosphere of dependency on whatever their drug is, abandoning everything else on the wayside. Addiction gradually progresses from a small little habitual thing to something that their life is revolving around. Addiction always has an outcome, most of which is not pleasant. More importantly, addiction should be treatable; manageable in somewhich way for the diseased.
I am addicted to homework.
Perhaps further explanation is in order. No, I’m not a masochist who would like to waste time to just do homework and nothing else. No, it’s not that my parents have forced it into a habit for myself, even though I may tell others that. I suppose a better description would be that I’m addicted to completing homework.
The power, the sensation, the release! that comes with finishing an assignment! The feeling that you learned something, the false hope that all those hours you put in had an effect, that you were going to become better and better! The ability to assist others, the willingness to move forward!
Of course, being addicted to homework ain’t that easy. You also have to be addicted to a drug called procrastination.
Procrastination eats at your time; a never ending pit of despair that occupies every living moment. Knowing that you still have mountains upon mountains of work to do never seems to reduce the need to work more, no? Where would you turn? Those voices in your head, whispering, just go here, twiddle your thumbs there, brows this, answer that. Life is peace.
And then life comes over and slaps you right in the face.
Addiction can often be symbolized by a willingness to release everything else in favor of it. To carelessly throwaway all that is near and dear to your heart in order to get that satisfaction. To be willing to put everything on the line just for that moment of accomplishment.
Have I lost my mind? Have I surrendered to the powers of false-accomplishment?
Just look at me. What monster have I become?