Imagine a train barrelling down a track at full speed. There is a great deal of power moving the train forward. The train is headed for a specific destination and there is only one path to get there. The train cannot suddenly change course, and stopping—should something come into its path—is not an option.
The cycle of addiction involves obsession, compulsion, satiation, and deprivation, then back to obsession, and so on.
The train represents the compulsion stage. The force of this compulsion is so strong that in the midst of active addiction the addict can know exactly what is going on, and even be aware of the negative consequences that will follow, and still be powerless against the momentum.
I am all too familiar with this feeling of being caught, being stuck on course in the deep grooves of old, well-trodden behaviours. It’s as if I am taken over by some ultra-compelling entity, and somehow I am both the possessor and the one who is possessed.
Recently I found myself travelling headlong down the track, aware that I was caught and moving steadily toward my prize.
In this case, I had decided to skip my Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous (which is akin to Alcoholics Anonymous) meeting to meet, two hours earlier than planned, someone I’m currently dating.
I was literally saying “this is wrong” out loud as I drove toward his house. But I had many excuses: it’s just one meeting, it’s not a big deal to miss it, etc. Still, I knew I was in the compulsive clutch of addictive behaviour.
A block away from his house, I pulled over, and deeply considered my situation. He was now expecting me early.
I had driven all the way downtown, and the meeting was 15 minutes in the opposite direction. Was it really worth going all the way back at this point?
I sat quietly, with my eyes closed, breathing, feeling.
The train cannot be stopped. Willpower will never win in the face of addiction. Suddenly I thought to myself, I want to go to my meeting. I value these meetings, the friendships I have within them, and the learning and sharing that takes place. There are women there who I care about, who care about me, and we are supporting one another on the difficult journey of addiction recovery. And recovery holds all that is dear to me: my hopes, dreams, and important relationships.
Moreover, I do not want to spend too much time with a man. Space feels good, and too much togetherness feels bad.
So I went to the meeting as planned. The train for that evening was not stopped with my own will; rather, it was dissolved through awareness.
No one actually wants to be controlled by addiction. Freedom is in seeing things as they are.