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Addiction And Recovery Quotes

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Addiction And Recovery Quotes

“What is the overgiver getting out of this obviously imbalanced arrangement? Or at least, what do they think they’re getting? Because nobody overgives for no reason—even if those reasons are deeply hidden or disguised as acts of pure altruism. So what is the payoff, exactly? In my case, the payoff has always been love—or at least, the desperate hope of love. And how far am I willing to go—how much will I extend myself, exhaust myself, burn myself out, or manipulate, seduce, soothe, manage, and control others—in order to get my own hidden needs and hungers met? Are you kidding me? To earn love? I will give up everything I have. I will overgive myself right to the edge of annihilation. But only always.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“I have caused tremendous harm to myself and others through my decades of sex and love addiction. I have inserted myself into other people’s relationships, and I have broken up families. I have lied to myself and others. I have hurt people whom I promised to cherish. I have crossed boundaries with friends; I have run away from people who cared about me and toward people who didn’t. I have cheated on people and allowed myself to be cheated upon. I have tried to buy love with money; I have triangulated, strategized, and manipulated. I have seduced people and discarded them, just as often as I have been seduced and discarded. I have committed and accepted shameful objectification. I have used other people’s bodies as drugs (both sedatives and stimulants). I have treated my own body with terrible disrespect—and I have never been able to stop. The closest I’ve ever come to suicide is because of my sex and love addiction, and also the closest I’ve ever come to murder.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“My problem is what’s officially called a “process addiction,” as opposed to “substance addiction,” which was Rayya’s downfall. Process addictions are characterized by extreme compulsivity around certain behaviors—gambling, shopping, hoarding, eating, sex, control, obsession, gaming, skin picking, etc. Put simply: Rayya was addicted to drugs; I am addicted to people. Although I do believe that Rayya was a love addict, as well. In fact, many folks in the rooms of recovery surmise that love addiction is at the bottom of all the other addictions. Our famished yearning for love is the great yawning chasm that we keep trying to fill with other things—with drugs, alcohol, food, money, sex, cigarettes, gambling, gaming, success, perfectionism, workaholism, internet addiction, you name it. Of all the human desires, the need to feel loved is the most fundamental. When unmet or perverted at a tender age, that need can warp our brains into making dangerous and even insane decisions for the rest of our lives.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“From what I now understand, given the latest neurological research, people like me—people with process addictions—have nervous systems that don’t work quite right. Many of us, having experienced at a young age what are officially referred to as “consistent disruptions of safety,” have trouble regulating our own emotions, taking care of ourselves, telling fantasy from reality, understanding the concept of boundaries, knowing whom to trust, and distinguishing our feelings from other people’s feelings. As a result, we can end up with an attachment style that is sometimes referred to as “disordered-disoriented”—which describes my romantic history perfectly.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“Over the years, I’ve used plenty of alcohol and drugs (both legal and illegal) in order to get numb or high—but not nearly at the level that I have used people. I don’t actually need alcohol and drugs to alter my consciousness, because the pharmacy built right into my brain churns out enormous amounts of dopamine as a reward for the experience of sexuality, physical closeness, and emotional arousal—and at a rate that is esti mated to be ten times higher than that of a so-called normal person. And it’s not only dopamine that my brain overproduces when I’m infatuated with someone; it’s also adrenaline, oxytocin, serotonin, and norepinephrine. When combined in a powerful rush, these hormones fill me with an almost godlike sense of euphoria, removing my ability to feel pain or calculate risk, warping my perception of reality, and taking away my desire for sleep, food, and fulfillment of other basic life-supporting needs. Other people might experience pleasurable sensations from romance, fantasy, or sex; I get wasted.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“Like all addicts, then, I have suffered—and I have been the cause of suffering in others. Like all addicts, I have kept secrets. Like all addicts, I have lived a double life. Like all addicts, I have always kept a hidden stash of supply to keep me from jonesing. (In my case, “supply” would be potential love interests, with whom I was constantly flirting, texting, temperature checking, and testing the waters—in case I needed them someday.) And there is nothing cute or harmless about flirtation when I engage in it. I’ve heard it said before that drug addicts steal people’s money, but love addicts steal people’s time, energy, and emotional attention—which is even worse, because those thefts hurt people at the level of their heart, at the deepest core of their being. Those thefts leave wounds that may never heal—deep wounds to all involved.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“Like many addicts, I always suspected there was something wrong with me. I was a full-on romantic obsessive by the time I was in grammar school (I can still tell you the birthday of every boy I had a crush on in second grade). I knew I was out of control by the time I reached high school, when I kept bouncing from boyfriend to boyfriend, from drama to drama, never able to find peace with anyone. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I knew that my friends didn’t act the way I acted. My early twenties were an even bigger mess, as I shipwrecked my heart and body upon one rocky shore after another. But I always thought I could get myself under control by using willpower and common sense—or by finding a new partner. And many times over the years I did pull myself together. I got over it and found someone new or even better. Many times, I believed I had this problem solved—only to discover that I super did not have this problem solved.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“The line between a problematic behavior and an addiction is a murky one—perhaps even invisible. But a good test as to whether you’re an addict or not is to answer these three questions as honestly as possible: 1. Have you tried to stop this behavior and you can’t? 2. Have you managed to stop at times—but you can’t stay stopped? 3. Has your behavior brought consequences to your life that might cause a normal person to say, “Wow, I’ll certainly never do that thing again!”—yet you keep doing that thing?”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“I couldn’t stop; I couldn’t stay stopped; I kept doing that thing. No matter how costly the consequences, I kept acting out. One disastrous encounter after another left me shattered, guilt-ridden, shamed, and exhausted. Lessons kept piling up, but I was never able to act differently, despite being a trustworthy and disciplined person in every other realm of my life.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“I did things for and within that relationship that no sane or emotionally stable person would ever do. And I woke up at the end of that encounter exactly the way another kind of addict might wake up in a motel room somewhere off the highway outside Vegas, wrecked and bewildered, with no memory of how she had gotten there—and not sure where that fresh new tattoo had come from, either. Blinking in the blazing sun, wondering where her money went, and asking in devastated confusion, “How did that just happen?” Or maybe it would be more accurate to ask: “How did that just happen again?”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“Partially, the reason I don’t blame anybody for my problems is because I don’t think it’s particularly useful to hold others responsible for my fate or for my behaviors. But I also believe that the people who harmed me had no more control over their compulsive actions than I’ve ever had over mine. And that is nobody’s fault. We are all descended from the same confounding human bloodline, after all—every one of us born of the same long and tangled lineage of addicts and their enablers; narcissists and their prey; the mentally ill and their beleaguered civilian orderlies; abusers and their apologists; manipulators and martyrs; secrets and secret keepers; suicides and sorrows. Beautiful people, so many of them. Beautiful, talented, extraordinary people who all struggled. Beautiful, talented, extraordinary, and terrified people who were all seeking something outside of themselves that could relieve them from their interior pain. I’m just one of the lucky ones who finally found her way to the rooms of recovery.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“The whole time I was getting involved with Rayya—becoming her friend, falling in love with her, walking all the way to the river with her, being driven to the edge of madness by her awful relapse into active drug addiction—I didn’t know that I was suffering from a dangerous addiction, too, which was leading both of our hearts into treacherous territory. I mean, I knew I was plenty messed up, in terms of my romantic relationships, but I didn’t know I was an addict. And I certainly did not know that, over time, I would become just as addicted to Rayya as she was to drugs. My addiction doesn’t mean I didn’t love Rayya; I always loved her, and I always will. My addiction merely means that I needed Rayya at a level that was far beyond healthy. I came to believe, quite literally, that I could not live without Rayya—that a world without Rayya’s attention and infinitely calming ministrations was a world not worth enduring. Driven mad by fear and longing, I tried to drain all the love from Rayya into me before she died—as though through some crazy emotional blood transfusion. In so doing, I turned into a vampire, which is what all active addicts eventually become. And the whole time we were together, Rayya didn’t know she was an addict, either. Meaning: She had forgotten. Like all addicts, Rayya had a disease that lied to her—a disease that told her she didn’t have a disease. Forgetting that she was powerless over her drug addiction, she slid into a relapse. And then she became a vampire, as well.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“How you can tell you might be in a codependent relationship: You care more about somebody else’s well-being than they do, and/or you believe that you cannot function without them, and/or you believe that they cannot function without you. The codependent’s motto: 'You break it, we fix it!”

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Author:Elizabeth Gilbert
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“What codependency feels like at first: “You complete me!” or “I will be your hero!” What codependency feels like later on: watching in horror as someone else’s life passes before your eyes; wondering in utter bewilderment where your own life went. The final destination of codependency: rage, emptiness, loneliness, despair. The anthem of the exhausted codependent: “After all I’ve done for you!”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“On the surface, I appeared to be a confident young go-getter. But my inner life was, as it had always been, a tremulous fear-scape. I was neither mature nor emotionally secure, and I wasn’t yet ready for the demands of adulthood. Hidden beneath all my apparent ingenuity was a terrified child constantly asking, “Who’s got me? Who will keep me safe? Where do I belong?” And thus I began my lifelong quest to make other people into my home.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“I once estimated that between the ages of twenty and forty-eight, I lived in approximately twenty different homes. That’s not everywhere I stayed (that number would be incalculable); it’s merely everywhere I lived—everywhere that had my actual name on the lease or the mortgage. And I never lived alone. I couldn’t bear to live alone. I couldn’t bear being alone with the open wound that was my own mind. But I also couldn’t bear the chafe and strain of intimacy. I couldn’t last anywhere, and I couldn’t last with anyone. So I came and went, colliding and separating, roaming the planet, constantly looking for places to land and people to merge with. I sometimes used to call this behavior “being a free spirit,” but my wild instability was quite the opposite of freedom, because I had no agency in the matter—only urgency. Also, if I was so “free,” why did I always end up feeling trapped? It’s because my moves were motivated by desperate situations in which I was running either toward somebody or away from somebody else. I constantly found myself in stories that started out with passion but ended up with shame. So much shame, in fact, that during those years there were entire geographic regions that I had to flee at top speed, because my behavior had created dramas that made it impossible to remain there for another day. Goodbye, Philadelphia! Adios, Oaxaca! Well, I guess I can never go back to Wyoming again!”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous describes how addicts always end up “puzzled and humiliated,” no matter how hard they try to get their lives straight. That’s how I have always felt at the end of my relationships: puzzled and humiliated. And because I have a lifelong tendency to fall in love with people who are either alcoholics or addicts themselves or the adult children of alcoholic or dysfunctional families, my partners were always in a state of disarray, as well. They brought their own disorder to my already disordered life, which added exponentially to my upheavals. One of my most chaotic relationships, for instance, was with a man who, at the time we met, was being fired from his job, breaking up with his girlfriend, and getting evicted from his apartment—all at the same time. “Move in with me!” I said, naturally enough. And so I welcomed him—this heartbroken, unemployed stranger (who, like me, was clearly struggling to find his way in the world)—into an apartment I’d rented for myself only a week earlier.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“It’s worth questioning, in every partnership: Who is playing the traditional role of the woman here?—meaning, Who is pouring more care and nourishment into this relationship (or project, or institution)? And who is the beneficiary of all that care and nourishment? And what is the cost to the overgiver?”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“Rayya loved the truth. Truth was her religion, her passion. When I asked her why she loved the truth so much, she explained that after so many years of having to hustle and lie as an active drug addict, the truth felt like heaven to her. Truth was her place of safety, a badge of honor, and proof of her recovery. What’s more, she believed that being honest was just the simplest path through life and the surest means of eliminating confusion and drama. “The truth has legs,” she used to say. “It always stands. When everything else in the room has blown up or dissolved away, the only thing left standing will be the truth. Since that’s where you’re gonna end up anyway, I figure you might as well just start there.” Maybe this notion sounds obvious to you, dear reader, but to me it felt like divine revelation. I had never before encountered such directness in a person, nor had I ever witnessed someone who placed such trust in the power of simple and unblinking honesty. I had not grown up feeling that the truth was a place of safety—and for reasons that I will not go into here, it wasn’t. From earliest childhood, my survival strategy was to always give the pleasing answer, never the truthful answer, because it felt safer to be pleasing than to be truthful. So I learned how to read other people’s faces and discern what they needed to be told in any given moment in order to keep them calm and happy. This vigilance turned me into a nervous child, constantly monitoring the room to stay ten steps ahead of everyone else and—when I sensed tension coming—misdirecting everyone's attention, or creating some sort of spontaneous and distracting entertainment, or simply running for the hills. It was a tough job for a little kid—making sure nobody around me ever got angry or sad, or disappointed.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“Once Rayya got clean and sober, she never judged people, no matter how badly they were acting out. She never condemned them—not even when she was angry or frustrated with them, not even when she was setting boundaries with them—because she knew what it was like to be at the very bottom. She knew what it was like to be feared and despised. She knew what it was like to live completely outside of your own integrity, a million miles away from your heart. As she said to me once, “Until you’ve stolen money from your father’s wallet to buy heroin while he was sick in a hospital bed, you don’t know what it feels like to need to be forgiven.” She also used to say, “Mercy is what I owe, because mercy is what I always needed—and mercy is what I have been given.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“That night at dinner, I thanked Rayya for taking care of everybody at the funeral, and for protecting us from the dangerous young man. She looked surprised, then her face softened. “Oh, honey,” she said, and suddenly tears stood in her eyes. “Did you think I was protecting us? No, baby, no. I was protecting him. Because here’s the reality, babe: We’re fine, and we’ll always be fine—even if he stole our car! Nobody needs to worry about us. But the odds are that kid doesn’t have much longer to live. He’s really far gone, and he doesn’t have any support system. But there’s always a chance he might get clean some day, with a miracle. And if he ever cleans up his life, as part of his recovery he’ll have to make amends to every single person he’s ever harmed. And I don’t want that poor kid, in addition to everything else he’ll have to face someday, to be forced to deal with the fact that he stole money from people at his grandmother’s funeral. I wouldn’t want that for anybody. So that’s what we were doing today, honey. We were keeping him safe from that—from the worst thing he could do to himself.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“A friend of mine who is familiar with both my messy relationship history and my recent recovery journey asked me the other day, “So where is the line, exactly, between regular love and love addiction?” To which I could only reply, “I’ve got bad news for you, buddy. Nobody really knows.” It’s the same with all addictions. When does a regular drinker become a heavy drinker? And when does a heavy drinker become a problem drinker? And when does a problem drinker become an alcoholic? And when does an alcoholic become a danger to themself and others? It’s often impossible to know exactly when, how, and why these escalations occur. In the rooms of recovery, this is called “the invisible line”—that shady moment when complete dependency sets in, and the addict is no longer capable of living a manageable or dignified life. The invisibility of that line is a large part of the reason that identifying and treating addiction is so difficult. It’s also why addicts of all varieties are so masterful at denying that they have a problem in the first place, and why they are so good at gaslighting and deceiving their loved ones. But if I had to define the difference between regular love and love addiction, I would say that it has to do with the level of intensity—with the sense of urgency, dependency, and desperation that grows by the day until it becomes an obsession, trailing behind it a wreckage of lies, destruction, and self-abandonment. And once that hungry ghost is awakened, it can never really be sated.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“Secrecy is the greenhouse in which addiction blooms, flourishes, and metastasizes. The unfortunate reality of addiction, though, is that all active addicts keep secrets and tell lies. They really have no choice. An addict must lie in order to protect her supply. You cannot be an active addict without lying, because your interior world would collapse. If you didn’t have access to the substance, person, or behavior that regulates your nervous system, and your exterior world would collapse if people knew what you were up to—because what you are up to is not socially acceptable. Hell, what you are up to might not even be acceptable to you, which is how addicts learn to lie to themselves before they lie to anyone else. Thus the addict’s reality becomes split between what she’s doing in the shadows (sometimes even behind her own back) and what she is allowing other people to see.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“This book is not only for people whose lives have been negatively impacted by their own addictions or by the addictions of others—although I do believe those two categories will include pretty much all of us, at some time or another. This book is also about the many ways that people—despite their best efforts at living sane and stable lives—can sometimes get swept into high-octane dramas and traumas, finding themselves washed up on shores that can feel very distant from their true natures.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“How the hell did I get here? is a question that I believe everybody will have to face at some point during their passage through life. Perhaps even at multiple points. For who among us has never gotten lost, much to our own embarrassment? Who has not ended up in scenarios that are frightening, alienating, shameful, and spirit-crushing? Who has not kept secrets, or been betrayed, or tried to control the behavior of others? Who has not longed for escape from suffering? And who has not reached for substances, people, behaviors, or distractions that offer temporary respite from the built-in discomforts of existence itself?”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“It is my way—it has always been my way—to become captivated by other people’s charisma and madness and wildness and beauty. To disappear into their stories and become hypnotized by their existence. To become lost in a trance of themness and to forget who I am, what I am, and where I stand.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“There are not a lot of women out there who will publicly admit to being sex and love addicts, because it sounds pretty gnarly. In fact, it is gnarly. I won’t get into salacious details here, but I will say that my addiction manifests as a sincere yet deeply misguided belief that somebody outside of myself will miraculously be able to heal me on the inside—thereby making me feel safe, cherished, and whole at last. In real-life terms, this translates as a desperate need to have my existence constantly authenticated and re-authenticated through a romantic partner’s touch, eye contact, verbal reassurance, acts of love, or mere physical presence. How much reassurance is enough for me to finally feel secure? There has never been enough, frankly. There can never be enough.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“My desperation to be loved is certainly outsize, and it has caused me to act out in ways that are undeniably insane. Yet I suspect that parts of my story may feel familiar to many of my readers—especially my female readers, who, like me, may have been socialized since birth to believe that they did not possess much inherent value but were estimable only insofar as they were capable of making themselves attractive enough to be chosen. Failing to succeed in this massively important project of proving yourself worthy of being chosen meant that you were a failure, and that nothing else you ever manifested would have much significance in anyone’s eyes. Or at least that’s what endless generations of women across a multitude of cultures have been taught—and that’s what I was taught, too. Sex has always been the fastest and most direct way for me to feel thoroughly chosen, but what I’m really looking for in my romantic encounters is the love, attention, validation, and approval (“LAVA” in the parlance of recovery) that other humans can sometimes provide, and without which I have often felt like I would quite literally die. Thus I have spent my entire life searching for that magical person who will see me and save me—whether in the short term or the long term. When my plan for salvation with one person didn’t work out (and it never worked out), I just went looking for LAVA with someone else.”

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Book:All the Way to the River
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“In a parent support group “...This is the miracle. We belong together because we are engaged in the same quest as we search for answers to our most anguished questions. In that journey, we reflect back to each other the meaning of our own experience. In telling the truth about myself, I discover the truth about myself. I have come to know myself in the honest, unashamed, unedited telling of my story. Like the others in the room, I let go of that vision of myself as someone who is holding it all together, who is in control. I let go, though not without some initial concern that I will be found out, that people will hide from me or laugh at me or feel superior to me. But my self-consciousness quickly fades away, because I am no longer lost. I am found. I am found within the circle of others through this community of fellow human beings who are hurting and afraid but fearless when it comes to admitting our need for help and support. This is where we belong, where we “fit” We share our stories, and as we join our stories with others who are on the same journey, we discovered a story that is shared.. We are not alone.”

Drug AddictionAddiction And RecoveryParenting Teens12 Step RecoveryAddiction Memoirs12 Step Programs
Book:The Only Life I Could Save
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“There were days when the saturation of death, and the realities of life, became too great. Days where I felt suffocated, heavy. I’d try to gasp for a breath, and I’d fail. Yet, just in the nick of time, I would somehow, once again, be resuscitated. The world grew dark, cold. A black cloud looming over everything that I saw. People evolved into monsters–caricatures, and EVERYTHING was frightening, everybody was a predator! The world transformed, and I would choke. Plumes of dust representing reality, as they sought an exit from my mouth, as I wheezed, and I gasped. Reality was choking me, saturating me with its heaviness. Control? None whatsoever. Not over things, not over people. No, that was Life’s illusion; control was the magic trick. The lack of control, I was truly speaking of, was the inevitable–death. The one thing that tied into everything, everyone. Every neurotic thought, every impulse. It was Death. The Random Act.”

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Book:Addictarium
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“Love addicts often pick partners who are emotionally unavailable because deep down, they don’t feel worthy of having a healthy, loving relationship. A love addict craves and obsesses about becoming enmeshed or ‘one’ with another human being at all costs, even if it means putting themselves in potential danger.”

AddictionAddiction And RecoveryLove AddictionAddictive BehaviourAddictivenessLove Addicts
Book:The Kindness Habit: Transforming our Relationship to Addictive Behaviours
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“Mental stories can literally spoil a human life. It took me a long time to become aware of my mental commentary, such as: “Everything always goes wrong”, “I won’t be accepted”, “I’m a failure” or “What’s the point?” Those fears were deep-rooted and triggered many upsetting addictive patterns of behaviour”

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Book:The Kindness Habit: Transforming our Relationship to Addictive Behaviours
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“When we practise self-compassion, we look after ourselves just as though we are nurturing a small child. In fact, a major part of grieving our original pain work (so that we can heal and be emotionally liberated) is to re-parent ourselves and reconnect with our inner child. This is what the author, John Bradshaw, meant by ‘reclaiming our inner child’. In recovery, we can begin to nurture our inner child and connect deeply with our heart and spirit.”

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Book:The Kindness Habit: Transforming our Relationship to Addictive Behaviours
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“Isms’ are described as transference of addictive patterns of dysfunctional behaviour, passed down from generation to generation. For instance, if a mother was an alcoholic who never made it into recovery, her behaviour would leave a mark on her children, husband, etc. Unless her adult children join some sort of recovery programme and adopt the mindfulness practice, they will have very similar behaviour traits to their mother but minus the alcohol abuse. There is a strong possibility that they will become codependent and form relationships with other codependents or alcoholics.”

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Book:The Kindness Habit: Transforming our Relationship to Addictive Behaviours
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“I don’t think I’ve ever met an addict in long-term recovery who hasn’t gone through at least one traumatic childhood experience. Research indicates that one traumatic event in childhood is as grave as continuous combat in a war zone. A traumatic event during childhood can leave a grave imprint on the human body.”

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Book:The Kindness Habit: Transforming our Relationship to Addictive Behaviours
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“No one can control their results. We can, however, control our attitude. When we practise compassion, it is most effective when it is unconditional and free from seeking an outcome – compassion is a matter of choice rather than a self-seeking action. And so, if we assist another human being from a place of presence and compassion, we are not looking to find our happiness off the back of others’ suffering. Nor are we trying to control them. Compassion is a conscious choice rather than an emotional knee-jerk reaction.”

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Book:The Kindness Habit: Transforming our Relationship to Addictive Behaviours
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“It was only when I started to reconnect with my inner child four years into recovery (I was over four years clean and sober off drugs and alcohol) and started to attend a love addiction support group that I was able to trust again and have faith that there are just as many honest and trustworthy women as there are women who are not interested in monogamy. However, it was after ten years of continuous recovery that I started to really dig deep into my childhood grief work and was finally able to reclaim my inner child. I started to take risks again. On a practical level, you can’t get very far in this world if you resent and distrust the opposite sex and, sadly, many men and women suffer in this area. Rather than celebrating the opposite sex, they fear them. Empathy and self-compassion has helped me in this area too.”

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“Let’s remind ourselves that to be compassionate and forgiving doesn’t mean we are endorsing dysfunctional behaviour. On the contrary, it’s essential the harm that was inflicted upon us is properly validated and grieved. Forgiveness isn’t an intellectual concept or an airy-fairy idea. It’s a painstaking process. To be compassionate and to forgive mean we are gradually letting go of poisonous, toxic feelings that are trapped in our minds and bodies.”

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“The process of recovering from addictiveness happens at a deeper level of consciousness and through feeling our pain without using old addictive fixes. There is no escaping that getting in touch with our original pain is the touchstone to mental, emotional and spiritual wellbeing.”

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“Tragically, because many addicts are not given sufficient love, nurturing and non-shaming dialogue at crucial stages in their early emotional development, they are on a quest to find contentment from a source outside of themselves. Their parents might have provided bountifully for them; however, their parents were never fully emotionally present while parenting, which made their children feel starved of emotional nourishment.”

AddictionAddiction And RecoveryAddictive BehaviourAddictiveness
Book:The Kindness Habit: Transforming our Relationship to Addictive Behaviours
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“Some addicts do not even have basic parenting and instead are beaten, sexually abused, left to be looked after by a dysfunctional ‘carer’, put in orphan homes or rejected by their community. If you calculate the millions of emotionally neglected children and observe them growing up together trying to ‘get by in life’, you will understand why many adults (adult children) have addictive personalities.”

AddictionAddiction And RecoveryAddictive BehaviourAddictiveness
Book:The Kindness Habit: Transforming our Relationship to Addictive Behaviours
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