I AM a workaholic who, instead of falling for a tangible male being, fell absolutely in love with her work about 15 months ago.

I think about my work every second, no matter where I am. I could be surrounded by my closest family members and still find it a challenge to strike up a conversation about any topic, except my work.

My friends may talk about making babies and nurturing them, and I would be at a loss for words for I have not even enjoyed the experience of locking hands with a lover.

But work, I can chat incessantly about it.

As a result of my total obsession, I have successfully carved out the reputation of aloofness and inconsideration among those closest to me.

I have asked myself repeatedly how it happened, and after a month of self evaluation, I finally had the answers.

Looking back, losing myself in my work had not been a matter of choice, but rather of circumstances. I was thrown into the deep sea with no skills or training.

Deadlines were forced down my throat and expectations were high. I struggled but the hard work paid off.

Yet, I still struggle, being under that illusion that if I’m absent, work will pile up within a day. I’d lose momentum and would have to compensate for time lost by working every waking hour for a week.

So much is cramped into a single day, I have no time to sit quietly, think and compartmentalise.

Despite the uphill battle, challenges and complaints, I still find solace in my work. But there is hurt and disappointment as well when unappreciative bosses still think my work is imperfect even after I have poured my heart and soul into it.

At the same time, fun and happiness slip through my fingers as if I have neither the will nor strength to pursue them. Desperation and loneliness do creep in and I am stressed and exhausted. I need a break.

When I first joined the team, I would put in more than 12 hours into my work. My colleagues warned me not to let work overtake my life.

“Work provides you the means of living, and not vice versa,” they said, painting a grim, harsh picture of reality.

Yet, the fact remains that people like me are increasing by the minute.

I live in the present and often fail to plan for the future. As a result, my looks and self-image are neglected. My room is in a constant mess. My waist is expanding. I look haggard.

Life has just spiralled down. The more hours I put into work, the worse my condition.

Eventually, I lost my time to jog, read, write and travel, all of which used to provide me comfort and joy at some point of time.

The tipping point came when the most important milestone in my project was approved by management. I finally had the time to look up from my desk, only to find that all my friends were either married, engaged, in love, on vacation, or chasing their dreams. Only then did I notice that I was in deep trouble.

Does a normal human being willingly put in 30 extra hours a week without pay?

This must definitely be due to a skewed perception of mine. Misalignment of priorities, the stubborn refusal to acknowledge and come to terms with the main source of pure, blissful joy and happiness.

But I am ready to be weaned off my addiction. I want to experience pure joy and love once again.

To all who constantly remind me of my shortcomings, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. From you, I have learnt that human interaction is far more important than work; to accept responsibilities for the right things, and not everything; to take a step back, look at the bigger picture and not focus on the minuscule things in front of my eyes; to love and be loved.

From now on, I resolve to value joy over efficiency.

I will seek to understand the importance of rest and play.

I will think of work as part of life, not all of it.

By developing a lasting relationship with people, I will be able to embrace goodness and serenity.

Most importantly, I pray that I’ll have the wisdom to differentiate between the things that I can change and the things I cannot.