From pleasure to danger

When does the fun end and where does the addiction begin? This question is one I still ask myself often. After work, I come home and face the decision: What should I do next? The options are numerous, but none seem clear. Should I go straight back to the computer? There, I would either keep working or "accidentally" come across an interesting YouTube video. Or would it make more sense to finally finish setting up the office? Since the move, there are still boxes around that I've been meaning to put away for a long time.

But am I not allowed to just rest for once? How about half an hour of relaxation? Can I truly rest without having to turn on the TV, so that my body, my thoughts, and my soul can really find peace? As soon as I turn on YouTube or Netflix, guilt plagues me. One video or one episode would be fine. But it often doesn't stop there. Suddenly, I've been watching for hours, and the day is over. Yet there is so much to do. Even though these tasks aren't essential, I know I would feel better afterward.

Compared to the past, these inner struggles seem almost harmless. Nowadays, it's much easier for me to do the right thing: spend time with my wife, cook, play the piano, or finally answer the emails I've been putting off for weeks. When I think about how I used to spend days or even weeks in a numbed state – completely immersed in drugs and online casinos – the impact on my everyday life and surroundings today is really minimal.

And yet the question remains: Is my behavior now a form of addiction, or am I just allowed to enjoy myself?

In the end, I might even put it more simply, and perhaps it's a harsh view. Whenever I do something I didn't want to do, or at least only partially wanted to do, and thereby neglect something else I actually wanted to do, or what my inner compass would have considered the right thing to do, those are signs of addictive behavior toward the thing I chose to do instead.