We have three frog ornaments sitting on our front porch. One has its hands over the eyes, the next over the ears and the last over the mouth.
After a wind storm, I found one frog had been blown over and was now face down while covering his ears. As I went to take a picture I realized this was a representation of my own recent behaviour. I thought if I could look away and refuse to listen; maybe the problem being pointed out to me wouldn’t really exist.
My husband had gently but firmly asked me some tough questions. One of them was to confront the issue I may have an addiction. To me, this was a ridiculous thought, but I couldn’t get it out of my mind.
After wrestling with this for several days I had some questions for myself. Could the computer games I play be an addiction? I sit down at the computer to write and think, “I’ll just play a game or two before I start.” After writing a little I reward myself with a few more games. Sometimes I’m on the computer for hours with little to show for my time.
I can quickly switch screens when I hear someone approaching. The fact I don’t want to get caught means I know what I’m doing is wrong. Is it an addiction when this activity robs me of valuable time with loved ones?
The more I thought about it, the more I saw my addictive behaviour. Am I committing the ultimate self-sabotage, keeping myself from having what I most want? I deleted the games from my devices and was surprised by how difficult it was to get rid of them. That left little doubt the problem was bigger than I realized.
My next step was to go to my husband and admit to my addiction. I apologized for the time I had wasted and thanked him for loving me enough to point out my problem. I then asked for his help in keeping me accountable.
I come to you in complete vulnerability to publically admit to my addiction. Now that I have acknowledged it, I am able to work on changing my behaviour. The first step is always the hardest and I’ve already taken it.
“I cannot change or heal what I do not acknowledge.”