SquarePeg Books

Why is cutting oneself off from an addiction of some kind referred to as “Cold Turkey”?

“I’m going cold turkey.”

It sounds like you’re making a sandwich out of holiday leftovers. Sandwiches made from leftovers can be yummy.

Not miserable.

I’ve whinged quite a bit about “why aren’t I writing?” all the while binging YouTube or podcasts in the background. Not new content, mind you. Content I’ve seen before, content related to what I’ve seen before, content derived from what I’ve seen before.

So now we’re going to remove the binky and hide it from myself as much as possible.

For the next few months.

I ought to be properly crazy by the end of the week.

I’ve tried to “just limit my time” and it doesn’t work well. I always find an excuse to put off writing in order to binge YouTube, ironically with the excuse of “I’m multitasking.”

Because sometimes I am. It’s nice to listen to something while I demo a rotting raised deck, or tear up 60 year-old flooring, or even fold laundry.

But writing and multi-tasking do not mix, despite my absolute best self-justifications.

It’s interesting that as I type this out, as I’m (rather pompously) declaring to the world at large “oooooo, I’m gonna go on a social media detox”, like anyone aside from my immediate family really gives a damn, I’m nervous.

I’m twitchy. I catch myself trying to find ways to get around going “cold turkey.” Maybe I can find a timer that I can use instead. Or one of those child monitors.

Except.

I know me.

If I can install it, I can find a way to uninstall it. I can justify any teeny excuse for just 5 more minutes. Just one more episode.

Just one more excuse to not think, not feel, not do.

The baby steps towards “more doing” are surprisingly hard. A lot harder than I believe they should be. These are simple, obvious things to do that will make things better, easier. Things that will help me not just as a writer, but as a person, generally.

I know that.

And yet, I find it exceedingly difficult.