I still remember the first time my dad gave me a sip of Indian chai, and how I could feel the caffeine racing through my veins. It was exhilarating; I felt like I could do anything. Anything. This feeling of endless potential was addictive, and thus began a new chapter in my life — one with brown stains on every page. My todo list grew from 5 tasks to 20 tasks, and my efforts ranged from volunteering to writing a book to playing basketball (I even tried to direct my school’s theatre play AND play the main character.) This was my life for the past two years. Oh, what a feeling.
Two weeks ago, I read a medium post arguing that coffee in the long run is utterly useless because it only brings you up to your normal productivity level, kind of like what weed does to your happiness. The statistics won me over as usual, and so I decided to cut down for a change. What I didn’t read about was this process called withdrawal. The caffeine cutoff gave me headaches, perpetual laziness, and an overall grumpy attitude. Luckily, I made it out alive, and I now feel like myself.
Gone are the reckless actions, the insanely long todo lists, the wide range of activities that I can’t find reasons for pursuing in the first place. My thought process is clearer, more direct, more practical. Instead of having one finger in every pie I’m now focused on the most delicious of them all. I felt less busy, and more productive. This was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in nearly two years.
I guess sometimes I just do things for the sake of doing them. The energy that came from coffee simply fueled that temptation. I was going full nitro, but didn't have my hands on the steering wheel. Everything went by in a blur, and now that I’ve let go of the gas I can see my destination clearly. The trick now is to go full speed in the right direction.
With coffee comes power, and with power comes responsibility.