Many of us have expressed the sentiment asking “Why did I insanely keep doing things I didn’t want to?” We knew it would hurt us and others. We knew it was based on lies. We knew it would be increasingly destructive. Yet, we persisted.
I have wondered about that and the apparent violation of my will – which I thought to be autonomous and independently operating from my actions and behaviors. I thought that I should be able to decide, based on my knowledge and awareness, that I should now be able to choose to do something different than I was choosing before. But that didn’t work. It made me feel weaker than I thought myself to be. It wasn’t an issue with WANTING to get away from this addiction. It was that I couldn’t seem to execute the decision. And I didn’t understand why.
Early on in my recovery, I had noticed something as I struggled with triggers and urges on a daily basis. There seemed to be a surge of urges after a stressful interaction or a bout of anger. Like a solution was being presented. It wasn’t something I was actively pursuing. It seemed unfair. But when things were calm and peaceful, I felt like I was being left alone and the urges seemed to drift away. It wasn’t quite freedom, but I was getting a small taste of what it might be like. I eventually noticed that my mind and body seemed to be reacting to the anger or stress by offering a solution that I had previously gone to. It was as if my mind and body were trying to be helpful and were offering to start the engine on some of the stress-relieving thoughts and behaviors I had used before. It made some sense, but I felt like it gives my mind and body a separate identity or purpose that I’m pretty sure isn’t there. So, I still couldn’t explain it.
And then I stumbled across an illustration of how powerful and deeply etched repeated habits can be in our lives. A few months ago, my wife was cleaning out bathroom cabinets and drawers and came across quite a number of those little tubes of toothpaste samples that you get at the dentist at every checkup. She suggested that we should use them for the next few months and put them on the bathroom sink counter in plain sight so we would remember. I was fully onboard with the plan as there was nothing wrong with that toothpaste and it had been free, so to speak.
The problem was what happened every time I went to the bathroom sink to brush my teeth. You see, for 30+ years, I had reached for the left-hand drawer where the toothpaste was. I fully intended to use the little tubes of toothpaste, but my left hand kept reaching down for the drawer even after I had noticed the little tubes and knew that I needed to pick one of them up. The first time it happened, I chuckled at how we are such creatures of habit. After 3 weeks of continuing to reach for the drawer, making myself stop, closing the drawer, and reaching for a little tube of toothpaste, I began to wonder at the power of this repeated habit.
As I reflected, I realized I may have stumbled on a bit of understanding that would help me explain other areas in my life. I had assumed that my conscious mind, my will, was completely in charge of the actions and functions of parts of my body – my left hand, to be specific. But as I approached the sink with the intention of brushing my teeth, another system took over and apparently independently operated this particular movement for me. I will call this the subconscious, though there may be a more accurate psychological term. But it is definitely operating below the level of the conscious mind, so it will work as a label.
I could see how moving these daily, routine choices and actions to the subconscious layer freed up bandwidth in my mind and allowed my brain to work on other things. If we had to make the conscious decisions for every thought and movement (lift right foot, swing right leg forward, counter-swing left arm, transfer weight to right foot, lift left foot, swing left leg forward, etc.) we would have little time to think, reflect, observe, or contemplate anything else.
So my helpful brain had noticed the oft-repeated movement towards the left-hand drawer and took over that function from my conscious mind and will. What I didn’t expect was the tenacity with which it continued even when I had introduced a new desired pattern of behavior. And that’s when it clicked.
I had encountered, in the SA program and fellowship, new information, new processes, new support mechanisms, new relationships. I assumed that my ability to see these things and value them would logically progress to my ability to choose them and aim my thoughts, actions, and behaviors in that direction. I was wrong. It was way harder than I expected. I knew there was chemical withdrawal, which I expected, but this was something else entirely. These were the ruts that I created in my mind and body through my persistent and stubborn repetition of thoughts and behaviors that were now a part of my subconscious architecture of my life.
Did this make recovery impossible? No. But I would need to add this to the list of things to overcome and replace in my life. If I built this through repeated habit, then it stands that I can build something else through stubborn and persistent choices for health and recovery.