Ambition is priceless but what is the price of success?


They gon' love me for my Ambition
Easy to dream a dream, though it's harder to live it

I gave up that which I cherished most in life. No! That's not true. I sacrificed that which I cherished most in life. I sacrificed all of it for my ambitions. Ambition is priceless right?

I was fully committed to making it. I was addicted. Addicted to my ambitions and addicted to winning. I was so pumped up by the hustle. I went deeper and deeper into chasing dreams. Dream chaser. The deeper I got, the scarier it got. The panic attacks started becoming familiar. Depression was the visitor who never got away. Nervousness was readily available. What a home I had created for myself, for there ain't no place sweeter than home right?

'It only gets better' was the consolatory mantra I had but honestly, it only got worse. I felt I was delusional anytime I was optimistic. I was lying through my teeth when I uttered the words "it only gets better". Results were not coming through. It wasn't getting better. It was getting scarier.

Coupled with the lethal combination of panic attacks, depression and anxiety was the bonus of loneliness. It's like that rainy night when it's pretty damn late and there's no taxi or bike to take you home. You are left just to the luxury of your legs to walk home. It's a lonely and  miserable road while chasing dreams.

You yearn for your sacrifice. You attempt to take it back. But the more you have a firm grip on it, the more your ambitions seem to be far fetched. What do you do? Enjoy the luxuries of today and live tomorrow in the comfort of regrets for killing your ambitions?




The more I tried to be the old and normal me, the more it was likely for me to hurt myself by hurting those who matter. It's that sad reality of a loss-loss situation. You lose the joy of those who mean a thing and you lose vision of your ambitions.

But I am not a loser. I have an addiction and it is called winning. I can't afford losing sight of my dreams. So I get back into the chase. This time around, no panic attacks. No more anxiety and nervousness.  But you remember that guest who never leaves right? Depression kicks in here and there especially when expectations are results are not met.. .

This time around, the journey is not lonely. You now have everyone's attention. Could that be the side effects of success? But the attention doesn't matter because I enjoy it in a way. But I face a new problem. It's called Identity Crisis.

Who am I ? What am I turning into? Those and related questions come my mind periodically. My addiction and commitment to my ambitions seem to have switched off my emotions. I am turning into a beast. The only thing that matters to me is getting the prey. When I am done I am onto the next one. There's little or no time for fun. Just hunting down goals and nothing less.
The Identity Crisis always triggers depression. I get back into the familiar yet unpopular luxury of being depressed. I crave and yearn for physical companionship. I miss my real friends who are no longer real. I miss the girls. I miss dates. I miss my loud laughter, I miss my signature dance moves. I miss the sarcastic me. I miss me. Mehn I miss me. Everything which used to matter to me is far-fetched. Seems like the old me is in coma about to die.

Who am I? I am that sick bastard who sacrificed his relationships, who sacrificed his emotions of love for his ambitions. I am the one, who walks the road of success with the weirdest of companion. Loneliness. I am the crazy one who is mad enough to think I have symptoms of bipolar disorder. I am the one who empowers people to soar high but I am immune to the same empowerment. Craze. I am an addict, an ardent addict.

What am I turning into? Well one of the hundreds of motivational tapes I listen to says "To get what you have never gotten,you have to become who you have never been. You have to do what you've never done.". Another one says "if you don't sacrifice for what you want, what you want becomes the sacrifice". I am turning into a beast. I see, I want, I get.


Don't get me wrong. I'm not cold neither am I a bore. When I get a rare moment, then you see a familiar face in me. The tales of success are usually the happy ones. Few tell the dark tales. And here's one for you.

So who am I? Permit me reintroduce myself ;
I am the one. The one who is willing to pay the price to succeed. The one who believes the sacrifice is worth it. I am a dream hunter. 

What's your own story? Who are you? What is the price you are willing to pay for success?

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