breaking free

“Adults addicted to their own stress hormones were once children who lived in unpredictable environments of overreaction, rage spirals, and fear.” - Dr. Nicole Lepera

I used to be like this especially in my twenties. Addicted to chaos and stress. Throwing myself from one thing to the next, forever chasing the feeling high—especially the bad feelings. I didn’t know I was doing it at the time nor did I realize that it stemmed from my childhood.

I was born into the fast and disorderly world of my parents—meth addictions, cops coming to the door, sleepless days and weeks, meth labs, and bouncing between the prison visiting ward, grandparents' houses, and being on the go with my parents; forever searching for the next distraction. That world was also full of love, but the effects of the steady stream of hormones (adrenaline and cortisol) had already taken hold. I was driven by compulsion and sought-after chaos. I needed it to feel alive. I was afraid of being still. I needed turmoil so that I would be forced to fix it.

I had no idea how much my addiction to stress was hurting me. I was hospitalized with pancreatitis three times. The doctors could never figure out why. Turns out, it was stress. When I stopped living this way, I got better and I haven’t been hospitalized since.

It wasn't a big breakdown that led me to make a change. These truths were revealed to me through small slivers over the course of five years—spiritual books given to me by Dad when he stopped using, self-development research, prayer, meditation, and just being still.

I had to actively shift from choosing to be at war in every facet of my life to choosing peace. I had to choose it every day. The transitional time was confusing and I remember having intense moments of boredom just because I didn’t feel stressed. I'd find myself seeking disruption. I ruined relationships and friendships and my connection to myself so many times. But I kept trying. Kept starting over. Eventually, it got easier. And now I have more days at peace than I do at war. I revel in stillness.

But it all hinders on a choice—one I still have to make every morning.

Today, I choose peace. Every day, I choose peace.