The Unseen Chains: Why Addiction Isn't Just About Drugs (and What We Can Do About It)
Subscribe Pretty Please
The Unseen Chains: Why Addiction Isn't Just About Drugs (and What We Can Do About It)
Some days the words flow easily, a clear stream of thought finding its perfect path. Today, they feel necessary – compelled by a truth I've lived and witnessed: Addiction runs our lives.
This isn't just about the stereotypical images that come to mind. Addiction doesn't care if you're a stay-at-home parent, a teenager, or a college student. It doesn't discriminate based on wealth or poverty, background, race, or belief. At some point, everyone grapples with its pull in some form. Maybe it's sugar, caffeine, or nicotine. For others, it's heroin, gambling, or pornography. Addiction shows no mercy, lurking around the next corner, ready to ambush.
In many ways, society is designed to foster these dependencies. The technology we use daily? It often uses us. Designed with sharp colors, engaging notifications, and endless feeds, our phones are powerful tools of distraction. How many times will you pick yours up today? How many pings pull your focus from what you actually want to accomplish? My phone is within arm's reach right now. I just tossed it across the room, making this article easier to finish, a small act of defiance against an almost unconscious pull. I'm still not entirely convinced I won't sneak a peek at social media before I hit publish. We are, in so many moments, at the mercy of addiction.
To build a shared language for this exploration, let's use a definition that resonates deeply with my own journey and training as a certified holistic addiction recovery coach: Addiction, as defined by mentors like David Essel, is a behavior we know is not good for our long-term well-being that we cannot stop.
Under this definition, the parent who compulsively scrolls Instagram, living vicariously through others while struggling with loneliness, might be wrestling with the same core issue as the person wandering the streets searching for their next high. Eating a pint of ice cream every night despite health goals, or chasing "just one more game" even as your bank account dwindles – these can be manifestations of the same inability to stop a self-sabotaging behavior.
Addiction is pervasive, and perhaps the most insidious part is how often it's normalized, even glorified, for someone else's benefit. Alcohol is served at almost every restaurant, woven into social rituals and often presented as a rite of passage. I remember being 16, drinking with my dad and uncles after skiing – it felt like I had arrived, granted entry into adulthood through a substance.
So, what defines success in overcoming addiction? Is it simply not engaging in the behavior? I recall a conversation at an addiction event years ago. Someone posed a challenging question: What if an alcoholic gets intoxicated one weekend a year, but for the other 363 days, they don't drink or even have the urge? Are they successfully in recovery? I paused, considering the conventional wisdom. My eventual answer: "I guess that person could still be viewed as a success." It's not the vision of recovery I hold for myself, but perhaps for some, it represents a significant, even healthy, reduction in harm and control over a previously destructive behavior.
Alcoholics Anonymous, founded in 1935, is often considered the gold standard in addiction recovery. What many don't tell you when you first walk into "the rooms" is the often-cited statistic of its success rate, sometimes quoted around 10%. That number, suggesting nine out of ten people might relapse, can feel incredibly daunting. But statistics don't capture the full picture of personal transformation, the support found, or the countless lives changed for the better, even if the path isn't linear abstinence.
For me, not having had a drink since April 22, 2010, is one of the accomplishments I am most proud of in my life. It has undeniably paved the way for much of my "success" since. My journey hasn't been without its own complexities, however. Over the past five years, I have explored the use of plant medicine, not as a replacement for traditional recovery, but as a tool that has, for me, unlocked new perspectives and ways of being that felt inaccessible otherwise. It's not something I recommend broadly, and it carries risks, but for my path, it has helped me cultivate more love and compassion.
I've seen the nuances in others' journeys too. Friends in conventional recovery who used plant medicine and fell back into addictive patterns. Friends who are technically sober from alcohol or drugs but remain heavily addicted to stimulants prescribed by their doctors, believing it's "okay" because it's sanctioned. It reinforces that each person must define what freedom and well-being look like for themselves. Even without traditional substances, the subtle addictions persist. My use of Instagram and YouTube can consume entire days if I'm not mindful. When it spirals, I'll step away completely for a day or two. Even then, the unconscious habit remains – reaching for the phone, starting the motions to open the app, a physical recognition of the ingrained behavior.
Our brains crave distraction. They often want to avoid dealing with uncomfortable feelings. This is fundamental human behavior. But we have the capacity to direct our brains, rather than allowing them to drag us into places we don't want to be.
Another principle from my training that has stuck with me is this: whatever our specific addiction is, we tend to believe it's the hardest one to break because it feels inescapable in our environment. If it's a sex addiction, we think, "Sex is everywhere – how can I avoid temptation when every ad or social media post is sexualized?" If it's gambling, the constant presence of sports and the ease of mobile betting feel insurmountable, especially when "60% of college men are gambling on sports," as one statistic suggests. We know where that road often leads. So, what is the alternative? A futuristic world where AI zaps addictive thoughts? While perhaps effective, most would resist such control. What I've found most effective for myself is a two-pronged approach: remove the temptations where possible and, critically, address the underlying pain I'm unwilling to feel.
Addiction is often a trauma response. It's a coping mechanism, a way to change the way we feel – or paradoxically, sometimes a way to feel anything when emotional numbness has set in. A friend once told me gamblers are sometimes chasing the feeling they get when they lose. This was a reality I hadn't imagined, yet in the context of seeking intense emotional swings, it makes a kind of difficult sense.
When I engage with plant medicine now, which is rare and approached with intention, it's not to run and hide from my problems. It's the opposite – to gain a new perspective, to face unresolved feelings, and integrate them into a healthier reality.
Life can be hard. It might not look the way you envisioned it as a child, or even as recently as 30 days ago. I know my life right now is different from the future I pictured. I could dwell on that, complain, or succumb to addictive urges. Or, I can choose different actions. In fact, writing this post is, in part, a response to not having the life I currently envision. But just five days of consistently publishing feels transformative. I'm already feeling better, and the best part is that these shared struggles are resonating with others.
For over a decade, I wrote daily, but had fewer than a dozen published posts because I was writing only for myself. Why publish now? Because if I'm struggling with something, chances are someone else is too.
Life is this incredible, complex mystery. When we stop isolating ourselves and come together, sharing our experiences and offering support, we can navigate it so much further than we ever could alone. If you or anyone you know is struggling with any form of addiction – whether it's deemed "major" or "minor" by society – it's okay. You are not alone, and you absolutely can change. Please reach out to someone. Ask for help, and keep asking until you find the support you deserve.
Connect... Gordon GordonBufton@proton.me @GordonBufton33 (to indulge and follow my IG addiction)
Here is a short list of resources for someone struggling with addiction:
Crisis Hotlines & Helplines: For immediate support. Examples include national helplines like the 988 Suicide Crisis Helpline (Canada) or the SAMHSA National Helpline (1-800-662-HELP in the US), which can provide confidential support and referrals.
12-Step Programs: Fellowships like Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and Narcotics Anonymous (NA) offer free, peer-led support meetings in most communities worldwide.
Alternative Peer Support Groups: Organizations like SMART Recovery offer meetings and resources based on cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and motivational interviewing, providing an alternative to 12-step programs.
Professional Treatment Centers: Inpatient or outpatient rehabilitation facilities provide structured programs, medical support, therapy, and counseling tailored to addiction recovery. Finding local options can often be done through national health services or directories.
Mental Health Professionals: Therapists, counselors, and psychiatrists specializing in addiction and co-occurring disorders can provide individual therapy to address underlying issues, trauma, and mental health conditions often linked to addiction.