Hey, it’s Matt with The Addiction Newsletter.

Here’s what’s inside today:

Let’s get started.

If you want some extra accountability from me, feel free to reply this newsletter with how many days it has been.

I read every single reply and do my best to reply to them. I am always here for you.

(Example: “Hey Matt, it’s been 33 days since I have used X”)

Days Since Last Use: 344

Thought: Today I felt something I hadn’t felt in years, enough. Not perfect, not ecstatic, just enough. I didn’t need to escape or earn it. It came while folding laundry, listening to music, moving slowly through the day. For years, I chased something louder, thinking that was life. But peace doesn’t shout. It whispers. And when you finally stop running, you can hear it. Enough isn’t settling. It’s freedom.

It started small. A thought, a feeling, something you wanted to hide. It followed you quietly, staying just out of sight. You told yourself it wasn’t real, that you were fine, that you were in control. And maybe you were, at first.

Then one day, you noticed it walking beside you. It knew when you were tired, when you were lonely, when you needed comfort. It whispered, Let me help you. So you let it. You gave it a little space, a little time, a little trust. It felt harmless. It even felt kind.

That is how the shadow grows. Not through force, but through permission.

Alan Carr says addiction feeds on misunderstanding. You believe it helps you manage life, when in truth it only manages your belief. You give it strength every time you call it comfort. You make it real every time you call it yours.

The shadow is clever. It never shouts. It speaks in calm logic. It tells you you deserve a break. That one more will make things easier. That no one needs to know. It doesn’t attack you. It convinces you. It becomes familiar, a constant companion you think you control.

But soon, you realize the truth. The more you feed it, the more it follows. It starts to move first, to reach before you do. You find yourself acting out of reflex instead of choice. You feel smaller, even as it grows larger. The thing that once felt like relief begins to feel like need.

You try to fight it. You tell yourself you’ll stop. You use rules, deadlines, promises. But the shadow doesn’t respond to force. Every battle you fight only keeps your attention on it. It grows in the direction of your fear.

Then, one quiet moment, you see it clearly. You notice that the shadow only moves when you do. It cannot exist without your light. It cannot take a step unless you give it form. The power you thought it had was borrowed from you.

Carr says that freedom begins with this seeing. You don’t destroy the shadow by fighting it. You end it by understanding it. You stop feeding it attention. You turn toward the light instead. Slowly, it begins to fade.

The first days without it feel strange. You feel alone. You expect it to appear again. You look for it without meaning to. But if you stay steady, if you keep facing forward, the darkness behind you softens. It loses shape. It loses meaning.

You start to feel something else take its place, stillness. Peace. The quiet hum of life that was always waiting under the noise.

You realize then that the shadow was never your enemy. It was a part of you that learned the wrong way to feel safe. And now, you are teaching it something new.

You are not broken. You are simply remembering the truth. The light was always enough.

The shadow cannot follow you there.

Addiction teaches you to trade everything real for something temporary. Sleep for stimulation. Connection for control. Pain for numbness. It takes piece by piece until you start to forget who you were before it all began.
But healing is remembering.

It’s waking up one morning and realizing you want your life back, not the rush, not the escape, but the real, steady, unfiltered life underneath. That moment isn’t loud or cinematic. It’s quiet, almost fragile. But it’s the beginning of coming home.

Here is the win of the day for one of our readers. I will keep most of the information anonymous:

"I caught myself waiting for someone’s message today. Hours passed, and the silence used to sting. But this time, I didn’t spiral. I didn’t check or refresh. I just kept living. I cooked dinner, watched a movie, and forgot to keep waiting. It hit me later, I wasn’t holding my peace hostage anymore. I let life keep moving. That felt freeing."

(Note: If you have a win, no matter how large or how small, reply to this email and I’ll include it in the future.)

I refer thousands of people every month to detox and treatment centers across the United States. Depending on if you have insurance and what type, a lot of the time you can get treatment completely free. If not, it does cost money unfortunately.

If you’d like to use this free service, click below.

(Click here)

Disclaimer

This newsletter is for educational and motivational purposes only. It is not medical advice or a substitute for professional treatment. If you’re in crisis or need immediate help, please contact your local emergency services or the SAMHSA helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357)