I spent last night tossing and turning, thinking of things that I wanted to say to my parents, to others, all about politics in Bahrain.

I had an argument with them the same night, suffice it to say, we didn’t agree at all.

I recalled what they said; what I said; how I called different people to get their take on the subject before I tried to explain to my parents that they were unfairly accusing people of politicization and possessing political agendas.

I turned off the lights and tried going to sleep but sleep never came. My brain was running at 100 KM and the brakes were busted. All I kept thinking about were things to say to them, things to say to other people, ideas and perspectives and opinions; ones that were mine or otherwise.

That was when I realized for perhaps the dozenth time that I keep drinking poison.

This poison – the politics that we can’t shut up about – it’s taken over our lives. I know that I’m not the only one to have experienced a restless night’s sleep because of it.

We’re reminded of it every where we go but even in those rare moments where we’re free from its grip, we invite it into our homes.

My stomach churns at the thought that politics has crept so deep into my mind and subconcious that I’d obsess over the subject this way.

I let it in and I don’t know how to detox, I can’t stop and that scares me. Because it makes me think that if I’m always looking to talk about politics; think about politics; dream about politics; that I will never ever be at ease. I will never be able to rest and I will never be able to be sleep.

Politics – it’s a drug. I keep taking it every single day.

I’m an addict.