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: 335

Thought: I woke up this morning and didn't immediately reach for my phone to distract myself from how I felt. I just... lay there for a minute. Calm. Present. No dread creeping in, no urge to numb something before the day even started. It was such a small moment, but it felt huge. For years, I couldn't sit with myself like that—I had to keep moving, keep using, keep avoiding. Now I can just be here, in my own skin, without needing an escape route. That quiet comfort with myself? That's something I thought was gone forever. Turns out it was just buried. Recovery helped me dig it back up.

Here's the fear that keeps most people trapped: the belief that quitting means giving something up. That recovery is about losing a friend, a comfort, a reward. That you'll spend the rest of your life missing it, wanting it, resisting it.

But what if I told you that's completely backwards? What if the real sacrifice isn't quitting it's continuing?

Every single day you use, you're sacrificing something real. Your health. Your money. Your time. Your peace of mind. Your relationships. Your self-respect. Your future. You're trading actual, tangible things for a lie wrapped in a promise that never delivers.

Think about it like this. Imagine you had a friend who borrowed money from you constantly, never paid you back, talked badly about you behind your back, and made your life harder in every possible way. But occasionally, maybe once in a while, they'd say something nice or make you laugh, and you'd think, "See? They're not so bad. I need them."

That's your relationship with the substance. It takes everything and gives you nothing except brief moments where it stops hurting you. And somehow, you've been convinced that losing this "friend" would be a tragedy.

The truth is, you're not sacrificing anything when you quit. You're done sacrificing. You're stopping the daily loss. You're finally keeping what's yours.

People talk about quitting like it's climbing a mountain of willpower. Like every day without using is a battle won through sheer strength. But that's not how it works when you see it clearly.

When you truly understand that the substance does nothing for you—not one single positive thing—the struggle disappears. You don't miss something that was hurting you. You don't crave something that was stealing from you. You just feel relieved it's over.

Think about all the things you actually love. Coffee in the morning. A good meal. Laughing with someone you care about. Do you have to fight yourself not to hate those things? No. You just enjoy them naturally because they genuinely add something to your life.

Now think about using. Does it actually add anything? Or does it just temporarily stop the discomfort it created? Does it make you feel better, or does it make you feel less bad for a moment before making everything worse again?

When you see that distinction clearly, everything changes. You stop romanticizing it. You stop thinking about "just one more time." Because why would you? You wouldn't choose to carry chains. You wouldn't choose to stay in prison. You wouldn't choose to keep feeding something that's been feeding on you.

The fear of losing it is the last trick the addiction plays. It makes you think freedom is the sacrifice, when freedom is actually the prize.

Non-users aren't white-knuckling their way through life, wishing they could use but restraining themselves. They're just free. Completely, totally free. They don't think about it. They don't want it. They're just living, unburdened, the way you were always meant to live.

That's not deprivation. That's liberation. And it's already yours—you just have to stop believing you're giving something up to claim it.

The only sacrifice is the one you've been making all along. Every day you used was a day you lost. Every moment spent chasing relief was a moment stolen from actual peace.

You're not weak for being afraid to let go. The lie is powerful and convincing. But you're strong enough to see through it.

And once you do, you'll realize: you're not losing anything. You're getting everything back.

If you catch yourself romanticizing the past remembering the "good times" with using gently remind yourself: "I'm only remembering the 5% that felt good, not the 95% that was chaos." Your mind is trying to rewrite history, but you know the full story.

The truth is, those moments weren't as good as you remember, and they were never worth what came after. Let the fantasy pass without chasing it. Reality is better than the edited version your brain is trying to sell you.

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

"I had a really stressful day at work, the kind that used to send me straight to my old habits. But instead, I just went home, made dinner, and watched a show. I woke up the next morning feeling proud instead of ashamed. It hit me that I actually handled real stress without needing anything. That's something I didn't think I was capable of before."

(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.

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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)