A while back, I read The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell. A fair portion of it was an interesting look at addiction.

Why are some hopelessly addicted to cigarettes? Or alcohol? Or cocaine? Or sex? Or Facebook? Or Candy Crush?

Or, perhaps more importantly, why are some casual users able to avoid addiction?

In many respects, I fall into the latter group. I’ve smoked. I drink quasi-regularly. I plead the fifth. Yet, I don’t NEED it. ANY of it.

However, in my recent examinations of my life, happiness, and shadow-self, it has occurred to me that I do have some addictions. These are the reason this year’s battle is going to be brutal.

I used to believe I was addicted to sleep. Don’t misconstrue that statement: I LOVE sleep!

Yet, my “addiction” to sleep, I believe, is a side effect to a greater issue.

I am addicted to my own comfort.

I like things to stay the same. I like my old music, my old movies, my old books, my... well, you get the picture.

And, I’m also addicted to information.

You can’t deny there’s a rush you get when you’re looking something up and figure it out. Or you find something you never knew. There’s a reason the Internet is slowly evolving beyond just a fad.

Plus, of course, everything you read on the Internet is true.

I’m drifting. I apologize.

Lately, the books I have been reading spur action. There are steps involved to get out of an unsatisfying life, to meet new people, discover new things, become more well-rounded, and, of course, achieve goals and create a rich life.

So, I suppose you can say my two vices have collided.

I find I read something extraordinarily profound, something I’d benefit from putting into action, think a lot about it, get stuck in my head, and need a nap.

Or I step out of my shell, meet someone new, hang out, invite her over, get to know her... yet play it safe, get stuck in my head, somehow get her stuck in her head, and need a nap.

Who knew stepping out of that comfort zone could be so exhausting? Who knew battling that shadow could be so exhausting?

Yet, I’m determined. This year, I’d like no missed opportunities—at least none due to my inner voices and/or my laziness that stems from all risk exhausting me.

There was a time when I found exploring my new power exhilarating and fun. If I can get in touch with that guy. The one who understood risk was his friend. The one who didn’t find reasons to sabotage evenings with those beautiful young ladies.

The one who wasn’t a jackass.

One clue: he’s not inside me. He’s out there—somewhere close. Closer than I think.

I’m not an alcoholic. Alcoholics need a drink. I have one.