I came rushing down toward the nearest 24-hour convenience store located two blocs away from my flat. I was thrilled but nervous at the same time because I was to buy a pack of cigarette for the very first time for my consumption. Upon arrival, I pushed the heavy door open and proceeded at the counter. There were a few people in sight; lest, I didn’t care. I gazed at the cashier and ordered for a pack of Dunhill Lights and a lighter. I was very relaxed as I hand over my payment; she punched the bill and hand over my change. I smiled at her and left immediately.
That was an instant transformation for me, as if I was already a pro. Prior to this, I hate smokers. I despised smoking. So ‘first timer’ that I am, buying some lights is ultimately a taboo, a very awkward situation where I have to muster a lot of courage. I had formed the guts to try this because I was spending the night alone. I thought a pack of lights would do the trick for a pseudo-company even just for a night.
Few minutes ago, my mom and sisters left for the province to spend the holy week and take a vacation. I never intended to go with them. I was more concerned with other things such as spending some time with myself and savoring some amount of freedom that I so long craved for. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with my family especially with my mom. It’s just that the thought of going to the province bores me to death. Besides, as of this moment, I am caught absorbed resolving the dilemma over work and post-graduate studies.
As I went back home, I realized that a pack of Dunhill wouldn’t be enough. There must be some fluid to quench my thirst; moisten my dry throat. So without hesitation, I went to the sari-sari store to buy six bottles of San Miguel Beer Light and some chips to match.
I was eager, dead eager, to start my ‘spending time with myself alone’ project so I went home in a rush. But I realized that six bottles were insufficient; I decided to go back to the store for four more. The night as it went deeper became more exciting for this little devilish adventure of mine.
Nicotine, alcohol and I began to transfuse and overlap along with the unobservable transition of time. Gently, I drank each bottle as if it was my first and last; I puffed a stick as if the sun would never rise. Gradually, I can sense both nicotine and alcohol drenching my body, confusing my senses, flying me into a state of oblivion.
It was the state of being unconscious with peace of mind that made me oblivious. Yet, I was aware, fully aware, of the all the things that bother me substantially. It was about my life–as I relate with my family, as I try to make sense of it and as I chart, shape it according to my dreams. It was about problematizing the issues that either I am about to face or have been evading from ever since.
It was disappointing that after five beers and two cigar sticks, I was ready to quit. My corporal system was already deluged, ready to command me to stop. It was my intention to pass out completely, yet my tolerance for these intoxicating substances were not well established. My imbalanced emotional state could have added to such intolerance.
Curiosity and confusion provoked me to try intoxication as an escape and as a pseudo-company to fill my being alone (though I wasn’t lonely). I was curious to try how it felt to be intoxicated; to test if this kind of coping mechanism would work for me. It is a new horizon comparable to the moment Columbus landed on the New World.
Confused, what concerned me is the dilemma of why despite I wanted to be with myself alone, I am feeling the need of wanting to be with some one. I failed to dig the center of this.
Confused, different issues overrode my finite senses.
Earlier this morning, I was at the face of deciphering how to improve my relationship with my mom. I want her to release her burden to me. I want to make her my confidant, in the same manner that I could be hers. I want our relationship to be more open, compassionate and comradely. It pains me every time I see her struggle; it kills me seeing her being inhumanly corrupted by her illness.
I would also want to see my relationship with my dad grow. I haven’t seen him for quite some time now (for four straight years); I am very much bothered with patching things up with him. There’s neither tension nor rage, I just want to delineate well a father-son relationship. I admit though that lately, I am becoming more distrustful of him due to broken promises, failed expectations and mishandling of resources. This prompts me to become less dependent on him.
I love my parents. I have been trying to. Though the several academic achievements I have been gracing them cannot compensate the burdens I have caused.
I am very much bothered on how will I handle my life and what I intend to do with it. There are a handful of things that I dreamt of accomplishing. Other than establishing a reputable career, I want to finish multiple post-graduate degrees. I felt I am running out of time and have to act the soonest. Problem, however, is, I don’t want to be usurped and fixated yet by the existing system.
It took me until past midnight to revolve around each issue. What I only did is to entertain them, accept them as much as I can. My mind soared around trying to resolve them. Expectedly, though, they remained unsolved.
It was painful thinking about these only to evade afterwards; nonetheless, I had no choice. This is where the numbing effect of alcohol and nicotine becomes relevant. Timely it is that at the moment I faltered they already hovered around my system. And I did not tinker any further. I decided to quit,
Completely.
Quitting is an inevitable decision because I never intend to indulge myself to intoxicate frequently. It was just a test–a mere attempt to look if intoxication with substances such as alcohol and nicotine is viable both as a coping mechanism and a pseudo-company.
Momentarily, intoxication is numbing. Yet, I already have my own coping mechanism that denies me to fall entirely on its numbing trap. I can exist and have my issues dealt with even without it. What went wrong is my intention to confuse intoxication and dealing with life’s issues. They are not compatible, and perhaps will never be.
There might be truth in Aristotle’s moderation. Yet, when it comes to intoxication with nicotine and alcohol, it doesn’t make sense to me anymore.
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