Writing a goodbye letter to one’s own addiction behavior

Here is one client’s letter to themself, as an example of learning to change addictive behaviors.

Dear Shutting People Out addictive behavior,

Although I have been relying on you as a crutch for avoiding difficult people/emotions/situations for many years, I have been thinking a lot lately about my growth and how I am ready to release you from my life. As such, I am writing to say goodbye.

While there were many years early on when this behavior served me, I can see that there have been costs to my physical, emotional, and interpersonal health and wellbeing. Whenever I am distressed about someone’s behavior, I notice the storytelling of my fantasies and/or actual plans to pull away and exit “stage left” (my personal addiction).

I have a health condition that, I believe, is at least partially related to the stressors of desiring to or actually separating myself from challenging people or situations. My first recollection of my health concern coincides with upheavals at the national and global political level that felt overwhelming and out of my control. It was a difficult time for me to witness the suffering of others and feel powerless to do anything to stop the situation. The pandemic separated us all from one another, as well, and we were forced to shut one another out to certain degrees.

There were likely many facets to this health condition, but the bigger picture is that my “shutting people out” addiction has had a consuming affect for a time in my life. I depended on this behavior as a coping mechanism since my early 20s when I started realizing there were many toxic relationships from which I needed reprieve - the more distance I gained, the better I felt about the discovery process of who I was becoming without their influence. I can see that this behavior, for all its confusing aspects, had merit if only in giving me the space I needed to think clearly and breathe deeply away from familiar settings so I could find my own way.

I can see the way forward involves releasing this craven addiction to put up walls, mumble under my breath when someone is less-than-well-behaved, separate myself when difficult emotions arise. I have learned to breathe deeply, to honor my needs, to say no with love in my eyes and heart. I cannot control the terrible, the horrible, the unforgiveable. I cannot expect others’ perfection when I am imperfect. I can, however, release the behavior to bar a sentient being from access to my loving and compassionate heart. I can forgive myself when I notice the desire to separate. I am growing and embracing my capacity to stay, to sit, to seek out the ways we are alike rather than highlight and imprison the differences.

So, dear teacher, my addiction to separating myself from difficult emotions/people, I bid you farewell. Your influence will forever remain on my alter, a hard-earned wisdom and mechanism. No longer are you welcome to sit at the table, in any “leadership” role. I will memorialize you by keeping a picture near those of my ancestors as a reminder that you came to teach me, to serve my younger self. I can see that you came in the service of me. I will burn incense and give thanks for both the stepping-stone service you provided and the capacity to memorialize you as a PAST from which I choose to free myself.

In gratitude and respect,

Annonymous