🌿 I Used to Live Between Two Emotions

One of my longtime friends in recovery has always shared something about her own journey that has stayed with me because every time I heard her say it, I thought, "She's talking about herself... but she's describing me, too."

She would often tell me, "Michelle, when I came into recovery, I lived with only two emotions. I chased excitement, and I ran from fear. Those were the only two things I knew."

Every time she said it, I would smile because I knew she was talking about herself, but I could completely identify. The longer I've stayed sober, the more I've realized just how true those words were for my own life.

When I first came into recovery, I didn't know how to simply live. I didn't know how to sit with uncomfortable feelings, disappointment, uncertainty, loneliness, boredom, rejection, grief, or even peace. Fear was something I had to escape as quickly as possible, and excitement became the medicine I used to avoid it. If life felt calm, I unconsciously created chaos because chaos felt familiar. If life felt painful, I reached for anything that would change the way I felt.

Looking back, I wasn't really chasing excitement. I was chasing relief.

What I didn't understand then was that every time I found something that numbed me or gave me a rush, my brain rewarded me with dopamine. Dopamine is often called the brain's "feel good" chemical because it creates anticipation, excitement, motivation, and reward. For a brief moment, I felt better. I felt alive. I felt free. But the feeling never lasted. The dopamine would wear off, and I would be left needing another drink, another distraction, another thrill, another relationship, another purchase, another crisis, another way to escape myself. It became a cycle that I couldn't see while I was living it because my brain had become conditioned to believe that relief was always found in the next high.

Alcohol wasn't my problem. It was my solution. So was anything else that helped me numb, escape, avoid, or change the way I felt. It could have been alcohol, drugs, food, shopping, relationships, sex, work, gambling, social media, people pleasing, perfectionism, or constantly chasing the next exciting thing. The substance or behavior wasn't the real problem. The real problem was that I didn't know how to live comfortably inside my own skin. I didn't know how to sit with fear, loneliness, emptiness, disappointment, or uncertainty, so I medicated those feelings instead of learning how to walk through them.

Eventually every one of those solutions stopped working. What once gave me temporary relief became the very thing that created more fear, more shame, more guilt, and more pain. The solution slowly became the problem, and I found myself trapped in a cycle I couldn't break through self-will alone.

Recovery has shown me that the answer was never found in changing my feelings. The answer was learning how to walk through them. The Twelve Steps taught me to stop running. My sponsor taught me to tell the truth. The fellowship taught me I wasn't unique and I wasn't alone. The Big Book gave me a design for living, and my Creator taught me that I could trust Him even when I was afraid. Recovery didn't remove fear from my life. It gave me a new way to respond to it.

Today, when fear shows up, I don't have to run. I pause. I pray. I call my sponsor or a friend. I open the Big Book. I talk to another alcoholic. I ask my Creator to direct my thinking instead of allowing my emotions to direct my actions. Little by little, I have learned that feelings are temporary. They are visitors, not permanent residents. They don't have to dictate my decisions anymore.

I've also learned that peace can feel uncomfortable when you've spent a lifetime living in survival mode. At first, serenity felt boring because my nervous system had become accustomed to chaos and my brain had become conditioned to crave the next dopamine hit. I thought something was wrong because life felt... quiet. Today I understand there was nothing wrong with peace. Peace simply felt unfamiliar. My brain, my body, and my spirit all needed time to heal.

Today, serenity is one of the greatest gifts my sobriety has given me. I no longer need to chase excitement to feel alive because I've discovered something far greater. Peace isn't boring. Peace is freedom. Peace is waking up without shame. Peace is being able to trust myself. Peace is having a clear conscience. Peace is knowing that no matter what life brings today, I don't have to drink or run.

I no longer need to run from fear to feel safe.

I simply try to stay close to my Creator, practice these principles one day at a time, and trust that whatever I face, I never have to face it alone. Every day I practice choosing faith over fear, truth over escape, and serenity over excitement. Those choices have given me a life that alcohol never could.

That, to me, is freedom. 🙏🏼

"We are people who normally would not mix... but there exists among us a fellowship, a friendliness, and an understanding which is indescribably wonderful." — Alcoholics Anonymous

That fellowship taught me there was another way to live, and for that, I will be forever grateful.

✨ SheChoseHerself2012
🌿 TheHealingCheff.com

#Recovery #Sobriety #HealingJourney #AlcoholicsAnonymous #OneDayAtATime