The Problem Could Be Me

I Need To Change

Recovery started working when I stopped trying to change others and started looking honestly at myself.

Each person must examine his own actions. Then he can be proud of his own accomplishments and not compare himself to others. Assume your own responsibility. Galatians 6:4–5

When I first came into recovery, I was looking for relief from the pain I was carrying. I knew I needed help, but I still wanted to do things my way. Control had helped me survive growing up in an alcoholic home, so it was the only way I really knew how to approach life. I truly wanted things to get better. But if I’m honest, what I really wanted was for the pain to stop.

So early on I tried to do recovery on my own. I bought a step book and started answering the questions by myself. I thought I was doing what everyone else was talking about. I was becoming aware that I had problems that were not going to resolve themselves automatically. I was motivated to find the answer so I could go home and fix things myself. But I still wanted recovery to happen on my terms. My way. That was part of the problem. I didn’t come into recovery to change myself. I came looking for relief from the hurt and damage I was feeling. What I didn’t understand yet was that recovery was never meant to be worked alone. The people who were finding the kind of freedom I wanted were not doing it by themselves. They were working the steps with sponsors and learning to let the group help them see things they could not see on their own.

I can still remember the moment vividly. It was after a meeting during what we often call the meeting after the meeting. I can still see the dimly lit room, the literature table set up against the wall and me standing next to it. I was speaking with two members of the group that I had gotten to know. They had been trying to share something with me for several weeks, and that night it finally got through. This was all about me changing me. If this was going to work, I needed to do it for me. My healing would come when I focused on myself instead of the person I was trying to fix. When I first came to recovery, it was not to change me. It was to find out how to fix the problem. It was to get relief from the hurt and pain I was in. But it wasn’t until that moment that I considered the possibility that the problem could be me. That is when I began to focus on changing me.

That realization opened the door to a new way of living. The change did not happen overnight and to say it was always easy would be a lie. But I will say it has definitely been worth it. After finding a sponsor and doing step work with him, I started to see small changes. Over time those small changes led to bigger ones. Today I understand something I could not see back then. I cannot change if I don’t want to. I must first be willing. Then, when I become willing to change, God begins creating something new in me. I can feel and see the transformation. I am becoming a new person. I like who I am now. And that is the gift of recovery for me.

Prayer

Father, help me keep my focus on changing me instead of trying to fix others. Give me the willingness and courage to make the changes You show me. Amen.

Waking Up

Awareness Is The Beginning

Easier isn’t always better.

Awake, you who sleep, arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light. Ephesians 5:14

I was watching the movie The Matrix and thinking about the scene where Neo is offered a choice between the red pill and the blue pill. The red pill represents truth and having your eyes opened. The blue pill represents continuing on as you are. There’s a scene where Cipher says, Why didn’t I take the blue pill? I can relate to that in my recovery. Breaking through denial and seeing reality did not automatically fix everything. It simply made me aware that I needed to change. That was not what I thought I was signing up for when I first came.

Just like in the movie, there are intense battles that I had been oblivious to before. There is pain. There is the shock of realizing things are not what I thought they were. And then there is something harder. Seeing myself as I really am instead of who I thought I was. Awareness is uncomfortable. Identification is humbling. But change is where the real work begins. I began to realize how much work recovery would require. It was a huge learning curve. And there was unlearning too. That may have been the hardest part. I did not just need awareness. I needed change. Having my eyes opened was only the start.

I remember having similar thoughts when I was doing my Fourth Step moral inventory. Why did I agree to this? It was hard, laborious, and painful. I did not want to think about the things I had tried so hard to forget. And then to honestly see my part in all of it. I did not sign up for that. I have heard others say life was better before recovery and working through the steps. I understand the feeling. But was it really? For me it wasn’t better. It may have been easier. So much easier. But it definitely wasn’t better.

I came to my first meeting on my own, looking for some self help answers and a way to fix my family. What I found were people who had been where I was, sharing their experience, strength, and hope. Honestly, I could not have done this on my own. I am grateful there were people in those rooms doing their own step work, especially those living out the Twelfth Step. They did not tell me what to do. They pointed me in the right direction. Start with surrender. Ask God for help. Stop trying to fix everyone else and start working on the person in the mirror. That is not a cliché. It is real. It is what helped me break free.

Yes, there was a time when I wondered why I joined recovery and whether it was doing any good. But then I looked at what was different. I had peace. I was happier. I had real friendships. When I looked in the mirror, I was beginning to like who I saw. There’s a hope that wasn’t there before. And that hope feels good. Really good. Life still gets hard, but I do not face it the same way. Recovery has given me tools. God has given me strength. That did not happen overnight. It came from staying awake, doing the work, and trusting God in the process. I am so glad I am here. Waking up was hard, painful, and ugly, but it brought healing and led me back to God.

Reflection
Am I choosing what feels easier, or what I know is better?

Restoring My Brain

I’m learning how God is using recovery to restore my brain from addictive behaviors I could not control.

You will keep the mind that is dependent on You in perfect peace, for it is trusting in You. Isaiah 26:3

I’ve been reading about how addiction connects to what’s going on in the brain, and it really opened my eyes. The more I learned, the more I could see my own patterns and why I tend to fall back into certain behaviors I don’t want. One thing that really stood out to me is that God designed our brains with chemicals that help us engage and live life fully through connection with Him and others. Dopamine is one of those chemicals. It gives us the drive to go after things like food, relationships, purpose, and growth. Oxytocin is another. It helps us feel calm, safe, and connected. When our minds and bodies are aligned, working the way God intended, dopamine helps us take the next right step, and oxytocin lets us know when we’re safe enough to slow down and rest. Together they keep us steady, so we don’t go from one extreme to the other. We live in a place where we can want things without feeling overwhelmed and make decisions without fear.

Addiction starts when these chemicals get out of sync and become imbalanced. Dopamine stops looking for relief from feeling safe and being close to people. Instead of gently guiding me, it suddenly feels like an urgent pressure demanding relief right now. That urgency is why things start to slip. My brain begins to believe that the only way to have peace comes from instant gratification instead of patience and trust in God. Over time, my brain forgets how to rest and how to wait. It gets used to the shortcut and starts to expect it, and before I know it, it starts demanding immediate relief. And that’s why I start looking for a fix to meet that demand.

What surprised me was realizing that this same chemical imbalance occurs in my brain and is created through my codependent behaviors. It is not just something caused by drugs and alcohol. I feel it when I start trying to manage everyone and everything, fixing problems, smoothing things over, or trying to keep everyone happy. I get uncomfortable and feel uneasy. I suddenly have the urge to jump into fix-it mode because it feels like the fastest way to get relief. That relief simulates a feeling of peace, but it is short lived and never lasts. The urge to manage comes back again and again. Each time a bit stronger. I started to see that what I thought was love and concern is often my brain chasing a quick dopamine release through control. The pattern is always the same. Urgency first, relief second, exhaustion later. It dawned on me that this rush for an instant relief, an urgent dopamine release in my brain, is nothing more than a counterfeit for spirituality and peace with God. God designed dopamine to be released naturally and evenly.

It shows up as that feeling that something has to be dealt with right now, even when nothing is actually happening. It often sounds like “I just need to fix this” or “Once this is handled, I’ll feel better.” I notice it in my body as restlessness, tightness, or the inability to sit still when things feel uncertain. The relief feels real, but it fades quickly, and the urgency always comes back. It feels less like desire and more like pressure, as if peace depends on acting immediately.

I now recognize why God desires me to embrace spiritual disciplines in my life. It is not to be strict or demanding. It is because of His love for me. When He calls me to be patient, to seek Him through prayer and meditation, to exercise and eat healthy, and to stay connected with others, He wants what is best for me. These practices release an even, balanced, and healthy amount of dopamine and oxytocin in my brain. They help keep me emotionally regulated so I am not driven by urgency or addiction.

Prayer breaks the cycle of urgency and helps me slow down. Waiting teaches my body that stress and pressure won’t destroy me. Being honest with people instead of trying to manage how they react opens the door to real personal connection. Setting boundaries feels uncomfortable at first, but over time they bring real peace one bit at a time. Each time I choose trust over control, my brain learns something new. I am learning that I do not have to perform to feel safe. I do not have to fix everything. I am not walking alone. Over time, what once felt impossible becomes normal. That is discipline. That is healing. That is the balance God intended. That is freedom and true serenity.

Reflection
Where do I notice urgency showing up in my thoughts or body right now, and what might it look like to pause and trust God instead of reacting?