12: What Overcoming Addiction Really Looks Like
never thought I could become addicted.
I’ve always been calculated. Cautious. Smart about what I put in my body.
But addiction doesn’t care who you are.
It’s not a moral failing.
It’s a human response to pain.
How we get there is different. But the result is the same.
You become physically, emotionally, and mentally dependent on your vice.
Drugs. Porn. Gambling. Sex. Fame. Food. Money.
Different paths—same trap.
Because the real addiction isn’t the thing.
It’s what’s underneath the thing.
It’s the craving for comfort. For validation. For escape.
So recovery isn’t just about quitting.
It’s about unraveling.
Step one? Remove the behavior.
Step two? Find out why you needed it in the first place.
That’s where the real work starts.
For me, the painkillers were never the full problem.
They were a response to pain I didn’t know how to process—
The injury. The shame. The trauma. The feeling of failure.
And the confusion of being someone who “should’ve had it all together”—but didn’t.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
1. Talk to someone. About everything.
Even the things you don’t think matter.
Especially those things.
Sometimes your “default brain” is screaming, while your conscious mind thinks everything is fine.
Talk to someone you trust. Lay it all out.
You can’t heal what you’re still hiding.
2. Medication isn’t weakness. It’s a tool.
I tried over 10 different prescriptions across 5 years.
Some helped. Some didn’t. Some helped, then stopped helping.
That’s not failure. That’s chemistry.
Wellbutrin helped me the most. At one point, it was essential.
Then, over time, I stopped taking it.
A year later, I tried it again—and it didn’t do anything.
That was proof my brain had started to find its balance again.
The point isn’t the pill. The point is persistence.
Don’t give up because the first—or fifth—try doesn’t work.
Keep fighting for your own mind.
3. Understand this: you can be sober and still feel broken.
That’s the part no one warns you about.
You can remove the behavior. You can be clean. And still feel like you’re barely surviving.
But I promise—even that feeling fades.
And what replaces it is something you didn’t think you’d ever feel again:
Peace. Stability. Trust in yourself.
And eventually? Joy.
Addiction isn’t the end of your story.
You don’t just survive it.
You outgrow it.
And one day, you’ll look back and say:
“I don’t even recognize that version of me anymore.”
And you’ll know—you’re never going back.