When I was a kid, I used to wonder how stupid did a person have to be in order to do things that had a potential of being - or were obviously - harmful to them. I didn’t understand why my mom had to smoke if she knew it was so bad for her health, or why anyone would, in their sane mind, remain in a situation they were not comfortable being. It was so simple to me: knowing what was best meant doing it. End of story. I was not afraid of anything except the dark and the monster under my bed.

But then growing up, I took up smoking at the age of fourteen and got emotionally stuck in some relationships I’m still trying to get over. I have struggled to find out who I really am in essence and I have tried to change even before finding that out. Most of all, I have struggled not to stifle the part of me that still thinks it is easy to do best by myself. I call that part of me innocence, because it reminds me of that time when it was so very natural to do what I thought was right.

As grown-ups, we rationalize things that are simple and end up making them complicated. We tend to think nothing is black and white in order to make it easier to excuse our behavior. Deep down, we know what’s best for us if we give it honest and sufficient thought, but we choose to procrastinate going after it for a series of reasons.

For one, we are lazy and do not want to go through the trouble of chasing after what we love, because what we love matters, and everything that matters means a handful. Not only are we lazy, but we’re also afraid our efforts will not translate into success. That terrifies us into immobility. And immobility means we will suffer consequences, just not the ones we chose; and that leads to a sense of lack of responsibility. But we are responsible. Inaction is the act of consciously not acting upon what we want and believe. Omission is the decision of letting others decide.

In addition, we are afraid of admitting we are badly flawed and that our flaws tend to hurt and drive people we love away. I don’t mean admitting it in an obvious, general and dismissive way we are not perfect. I mean admitting flaws that people fling at our face when they want to hurt us and god, do they succeed. We are scared to the point of choosing numbness over the feeling of pain.

Growing up also means realizing we, at times (sometimes, most of them), have no control over the miscommunication between what we want to do and what we actually do. Maturity on the other hand, means accepting we fuck up a lot and almost everything that happens to us is in a great amount our fault. Not god’s (definitely not that, pal), not other people’s. Ours.

Some say self-destructive behavior is caused by lack of self-esteem and an urge to punish oneself. However, what unleashes lack of self-esteem and that said urge? I believe it is the denial of the self. I’m not trying to be mystic here. I mean the self I have been struggling to acknowledge. The essence in me that glows when offered a chance to exert itself and that shies away when I force what I mistakenly think is best upon it. Getting in touch with who we are prevents us from going on a fool’s errand after things we think we want but that are not right for the person we really are. But I digress.

My point is, we engage in self-destructive behavior because we do not pay attention to our innocence. We grow up to become cynical asses who are incapable of being true to ourselves. We live in constant fear and denial in a subconscious level, and we take whatever consequences may emerge from that over the responsibility of owning up to our lives. So eager we are to escape pain, we also escape happiness.