I thought I had no addictions,
Don't drink alcohol,
Don't smoke,
Don't take any drugs prescribed or not,
I was not my parents.
I thought I had no addictions,
Don't over indulge daily,
Don't overdo anything,
I am not an addict.
I thought I had no addictions,
I did work to get it done,
I did work to return value for hiring me,
I did work to help the organisation succeed,
I was not an addict.
Little did I see the addict in me,
Perfectionist to a tee,
Controlling outcomes to the nth degree,
People pleasing and others first before me,
These are not addictions, this was just me.
Little did I see my drain in energy,
To the addictions I did hold within me,
Consequence to mindset, sleep and movement,
For I thought this was just me.
It has been a near death experience while alive,
To correct my path to a happy life,
Support around me helped me see,
Listen change and become a new me.
Perfection isn't human, I can now see
Control drives negative emotions, all through me.
People pleasing compromises self-care,
Consequences so dire to stare.
A new and different me
Teach and empower those around me
Complete tasks as a community
Self mask first before others in a plane emergency.
Written: 30. Jan.2025
Finished: Same day – with the inspiration written for publishing
Published: First time on this website on launch (and on an internal work blog in August of 2026)
Linda G Thorpe
The inspiration for this poem:
I have referenced the “hard reset” of 2024. Let me take you back to some of this hard reset moment.
It is no surprise to anyone who knows me, and our family growing up in Chennai – my father was a well-regarded Cellist. I have referenced him in the Story “Who am I” – as having taught me to Master my craft just like he did with the Cello.
Growing up, I saw him use snuff, and medications he did not need and what undoubtedly contributed, not caused his early death at the young age of 53. If we were sick, he would pull out the equivalent of Panadol from his stash – Crocin sounds like one. I would gag at the thought of taking a tablet. So much so, there were times he gave me calcium tablets, I would throw them out the window (my recollection was it was pink, and the texture was not pleasant when you chewed it). One of our maids found it and my recollection is that he would have preferred I said I didn’t want it rather than waste it. I never got those calcium tablets again.
We used to as kids, take a script signed by him – yes, he had to have conned his Dr to giving him a script pad to use at will. I remember it being a big pharmacy not far from where he lived in 1000 lights (by the age this was happening, we moved between his house and the ‘other house’ where there were its unique set of happenings including addictions of a different kind from my observations, and that in recent years been de-briefing with siblings).
In 2024, my health was deteriorating – I was not paying attention – those close to me asked me why? Is it stress? – I denied it. Even the eye specialist was puzzled at why I was saying my eyes were as sensitive to light, when the scans were not showing a deterioration. Then one day, in June – walking my dog Thor, on our usual route in Inner West Sydney, I was approached by the “fruit man’s” nephew – the “fruit man” being Thor’s friend. With shock and sadness in his eyes, he gave me the news: “Uncle passed away in his sleep, over the weekend, age 47 (presumed heart attack)”. His name Eddie. It was a shock, it was sad – I visited the other fruit man, his brother at the shop and gave him a hug. Coincidentally, for weeks after this, Thor would not go past the shop – I think he heard, I think he knew and himself was mourning. This was out of character. So, there is no other conclusion to this change of habit.
I am huge believer in signs (and dreams). That someone I had seen almost every day, who loved Thor, shared my fathers name and died young, just like my father did, was the sign – to pay attention to my health. After this, decisions were easy – there had to be a change of lifestyle.
We simplified life, left Sydney and moved to Brisbane – looking for a “low stress” life and one where I can regain my former self and health. I am eternally grateful that work allowed me to firstly move states (where there was no office building) and secondly to give me time off as a sabbatical, to work through my health. This sabbatical was spent in front of many Drs and Specialists that uncovered nothing. Alongside it was therapy with my long-trusted therapist in Sydney for whom I am ever grateful for all the work we did for a decade and a half. The last piece of a puzzle was put together and we solved it together.
During this time, my support network made time for me across borders – the gift of video-calling technology we have today. One good friend sent me the Resilience Agenda diary, which brought together the messages I most needed to hear: Mindset, Movement, and Rest. These reminded me that without them, and given my unique background, my health can suffer. On returning to work, I had to change; in my personal life of putting others first, had to change.
Two years on, I am not an ‘addict to work’. Outside of work, I have had to put myself first, when needed. Don’t get me wrong, I am still me and will do anything for anyone who calls me up (anyone who knows me, knows this about me). It is a shift to making sure my mask is on, before putting it on for others – just like you hear on airplanes on take off (your mask first, before others in a plane emergency).
Please note:
This poem is not intended to be life advice on any addiction. If you or someone you know is suffering an addiction, may they seek medical and professional advice.
