Let’s talk about this thing that happens during addictive cravings sometimes…
In the gap of time between deciding to give in to an addictive craving, and the actual attainment and consumption of the addictive substance or behavior, at times I’ve noticed that the craving is gone and on some level I realize I do not actually have to go through with this whole damned ordeal.
I call this the interim period.
The reason the craving goes away, as far as I can tell, is because strong part of that craving was my own inner struggle about it, my fight with myself.
The decision to give in relieves the pressure, stops the inner aversion and dissonance. This is often enough to create some space around the craving, or diffuse it altogether, at least temporarily.
Maybe my brain also takes heart in the notion that anesthesia for my pain and confusion is on the way, so it gives up on its begging, like a child whose parents just told them that they’ll finally buy them that toy they’ve been pining for forever.
But riddle me this:
Since the craving sometimes abates during the interim period, why have I, more times than not, followed through and gotten my fix anyway, even without feeling the tyrannical and visceral addictive drive to do so?
It’s gotta be sheer stubbornness.
After the tense struggle that led to the decision to give in, and the relief that came from the act of making the decision, course correction at this point requires a deliberate, conscious, and powerful shift in intention.
Because at that point, I’m just ready to be numb.
Being numb is what I know how to do! I’m a pro!
However, some pre-awareness and pre-planning can flip the script.
To understand that the interim period exists and that the craving may dissipate during this time, is the first step.
Then comes the task of mentally associating the interim period with a recovery-oriented activity, to replace the zombie-like tendency to follow through with the initial compulsion.
So, what to do next time a craving dissipates during the interim period? What’s the plan?
Since I know that fulfilling the craving only prolongs my spiral of suffering, what can I provide myself at this crucial interval to bolster my recovery self and neuter the neural network of my addiction?
Probably the best, most reliable way to handle this, is to immediately connect with someone in my recovery family. To share my internal process with someone I trust, pronto.
Honest connection has this beautiful way of popping a ball gag right in addiction’s pie hole.
Maybe I feel too anxious or reserved to talk on the phone. How about a text, email, or Facebook message?
And/or, how about service? Who can I be useful for right now? Is there someone in my life who could use a listening ear or some support?
Again, maybe I’m anxious and reserved right now, but even scooping the litter box qualifies as service as far as my cats and housemate are concerned.
What else? The possibilities are limitless. One of the problems with addiction is single-minded tunnel vision, which is why it is so important to get this stuff laid out and organized in advance.
I could exercise.
Do some yoga.
Pray and meditate.
Get to a meeting.
Journal.
Write a poem.
Engage with a hobby.
Get some sunlight.
Read uplifting literature.
Clean and organize a room, or just one part of a room.
Tell inside jokes with an old friend, and laugh at everything and nothing.
Look up Nicolas Cage memes.
Am I tense? That’s what Epsom salt baths, breathing exercises, and yoga nidra are for.
Or I could go get a massage.
Am I cooped up? That’s what walking in the woods is for, talking to and hugging some trees, smiling at people who walk by.
Am I tired to the point of brain mush? Take a nap, bro, it’s not rocket surgery.
Hungry? Revitalize my bod with quality nutrients.
Thirsty? Yeah, sometimes I forget to hydrate. A questionable situation for a being that’s 60% made of water.
I could fix something around the house!
Have a dance off!
Write a book!
Mow the lawn!
See, the truth is in the end, that I do not actually want to be numb.
I just want to feel OK in my own skin.
I am used to achieving that by numbing myself out.
But as we can see, there are other ways…
Whether in the interim period or not, even during the most heinous of cravings, there are ways to disrupt the rapacious tides of addiction.
However, it isn’t easy (and often feels impossible) to find the resolve, energy, or clarity in the claustrophobic confines of compulsion, to snap out of that tunnel vision and turn the tides.
That’s why taking advantage of the interim period is important.
When that craving clears up and some space is created, fill the space with positive, vibrant things without delay.
There’s that child inside, begging for their toy. But if I consistently provide that child something even more fulfilling than what they think they want, they’ll come to trust and thank me for the better way of life.
Coming out of a fog & lifting the veil of reality can be scary, but is necessary to live a full life. As for a thing to do in the void, you can always email me or someone else if you want to, say whatever, long or short, or even just a pic. Switching addiction gears to the page is helpful to you in my opinion. Whether it’s composing a poem, blog, email, book, song… that’s where your art resides. Mental illness dwells in much of my family, and sometimes they self medicate, sometimes they seek the help of professionals. Unfortunately, I found out yesterday, that my cousin chose to stop taking prescribed meds about a month ago, and poisoned himself with alcohol a few days ago. Wife found him with shallow breaths in own vomit, unresponsive. He lives on the other side of the country, and I haven’t seen him in 2 years, when my mom was dying. He’s now on a ventilator in an icu, waking up strong & fighting the system he’s attached to. It must be hell. Alive, but in hell. You have to WANT to not do whatever it is more than your want to proceed with it to find success. Mini successes turn into bigger ones over time, it’s cumulative. We all fail, but not a infinite amount of times. Always wishing you the best. Love, your friend, reaper rose
Thanks, Rose, for sharing your helpful insight and experience. The process of cumulative wins is real, and it starts with smallness and consistency, whereas one of my blunders has been to go rushing in on all cylinders and fizzling out. The past few weeks has been amazing though. I’ll email you about it. I appreciate you.
I love this concept. I am trying harder lately to find this interim period in so many aspects of my life. If I can pause before even having a reaction, I might be able to have a more authentic one to almost any trigger or stimulus. Sometimes when I’m meditating and counting my breaths, the spaces in between seem to stretch to minutes. I think this is a sign I’m doing it well. It also reminds me that time is much more fluid (for lack of a better word) than we often realize. Anywho, yeah. Sometimes I literally putting ice cream in the bowl and thinking “I don’t really want to eat this very much anymore; I just wanted to buy it/dish it up/allow myself to eat it/indulge/destroy my diet/do something destructive etc.. and then half the time I eat it anyway thinking, “This isn’t really worth it; I’d rather be eating a salad.” Why do I keep going when the craving is gone? I dunno. This article gave me a lot to think about… thanks!
Thanks for your insights and engagement on this fascinating topic, Kendra! It never ceases to amaze me, how “definitive” a compulsion can be. This feeling of, “I have to do this thing” (usually some shitty thing). Auto-pilot; getting sucked into the tractor beam of the Death Star, etc. That’s not the part that amazes me. What amazes me is, how even that “definitively poignant” compulsion is fickle AF. It’s smoke and mirrors. It’s the Wizard of Oz acting all big and bad, putting on a show, but it’s just a wrinkly old dude behind a curtain. And when it’s revealed, it loses its gravitational pull. What amazes me most of all about this, is that some chapters of my life have been completely run by that compulsion. The consequences were enormous. The Wizard of Oz will fuck you up. The stakes are life and death. But then when you reveal the wrinkly old man behind the curtain, he just giggles and said, “Just kidding. We’re cool, right?”