What Are You Running From?
If you couldnโt do (insert distraction or coping mechanism here), what would you be feeling? Thinking? Doing?
In other words, what are you avoiding by indulging in your vice of choice?
Be it alcohol, social media, porn, drugs, codependent relationships, gambling, sex, foodโwe all have something we lean on a little too much. When weโre in the grips of temptation, we know itโs helping us avoid something we donโt want to feel.
So ask yourself:
What pain does this pleasure temporarily help you avoid?
Pain is the root of all addiction. And I donโt think itโs an exaggeration to say weโre living in the age of addiction. We have every imaginable pleasure at our fingertips, and yet somehow, we feel more unfulfilled than ever.
Is it just the human condition? Or is it how our dopamine system is wired, such that we feel happiest in the pursuit of a reward, and not so much when we actually get it?
Pain and pleasure share the same circuits in the brain. When we move too far in the direction of pleasure, we inevitably swing back into pain: come downs, hangovers, emptiness, disappointment, heartbreak. And then there are times when we intentionally put ourselves through discomfort, through discipline, and the result is deep, lasting joy.
From my own years of seeking pleasure and avoiding pain, whether through substances, behaviours, or toxic relationshipsโmy honest answer is:
You can never get enough of what you donโt need.
Or maybe... weโve simply lost touch with what weโre really searching for.
We accept situationships, or lust instead of love.
We get drunk or high when what we really crave is connection.
We drown our intuition in doomscrolling, ignoring the quiet voice that tells us what weโre here to do, then turn around and blame the world, or better still, those closest to us, for our unhappiness.
But thereโs a simple question that can bring clarity:
What am I afraid will happen if I donโt use/ distract myself?
When I find myself craving a smoke, or reaching for my phone for the 33rd time in the last hour (when I swore I wouldnโt), I ask myself that question.
And my brain answers:
Iโll be stressed
Iโll be bored
I wonโt be able to manage my emotions
Iโll feel disconnected/ isolated
Iโll be angry
And my personal favourite: โBecause youโre worth it.โ I deserve it. Why canโt I have this little treat?
Almost always, our vices are covering over painful emotions we donโt want to feel. And when we ask, What am I afraid will happen? What am I avoiding? We can finally start to unravel what lies beneath.
Because these patterns arenโt just โbad habitsโ, rather, they are maladaptive strategiesโways we learned to avoid suffering when we had no other tools available. They made sense once, perhaps they kept you safe or at least appeared to keep you safe at a time when you had no other way to self regulate. But theyโre no longer serving you.
With any destructive behaviour, the cycle typically looks like this:
First, itโs fun, then itโs fun with problems, then it isnโt fun anymore.
What once brought pleasure now brings pain, it now becomes what you need just to feel normal. You know itโs bad, you know youโre hurting yourself but somehow you canโt seem to walk away.
When I look at my little list, I see the deeper wounds beneath the cravings:
The suffering of overwhelming emotion, the ache of not belonging, the pain of being unrewarded, unseen. The emptiness.
When we can be compassionately honest with ourselves about where weโre at, when weโre able to look at our pain instead of avoiding it, thatโs when we can begin to transform our pain into purpose.
We can learn to see past our shame programming and childhood wounds and feel safe again. While itโs by no means an easy road, and itโs one that only you can decide to take, the reward is the recovery of who you really are, and what you were always meant to do with your life.