Day 105 – Fighting the Fear Within

Day 105

I think deep down, the only person I’ve ever truly been afraid of is me. Years of rejection and isolation taught me to master the art of escaping—whether it was video games, going to the bar, or drinking. But the truth is, I wasn’t escaping the world—I was escaping my mind.

When I got injured, everything changed. The only escape I had left was Hope. I wrote to her, journaled about her. She became my imaginary friend—my lifeline. Imagine that—35 years old and clinging to someone who wasn’t even there.

Winter was unforgiving, and so was my mind. Days blurred together as I sat on that couch, barely moving. The pain pills and dabs became my new escape, and I told myself they were fine because they were “prescribed” or “legal.” But deep down, I knew I was lying to myself.

Then came the moment my therapist told me I had a substance use disorder. I laughed. Me? An addict? I took all the tests but fought the truth. I wasn’t ready to accept it yet.

I started fasting—22 hours a day—and found Fitness Boxing on the Switch. It might sound silly, but that little game in my tiny RV with my walking boot became my battleground. For the first time, I was fighting back. I thought I could prove to myself that I didn’t have a problem.

And when I hit 30 days of sobriety, I celebrated—with alcohol. I didn’t understand what addiction really meant back then. I was still rewarding myself with the very thing I was trying to escape.

The turning point came after another surgery. I made the mistake of accepting pain pills again, and life spiraled. I knew better, but I kept running from my emotions, my reality, my past.

Through it all, Hope was my light. But even she couldn’t save me. Recovery wasn’t just about stopping the substance—it was about understanding my addiction, facing my fears, and choosing to fight every single day.

You can’t run from your past. It catches up to you. At some point, you have to stop running. You have to fight.

This is Day 105.

One Step. One Punch. One Round. 🌹

—Your Fellow Traveler in Recovery