Me: Hi mom. I have a devastating internet addiction. I'll join a support group.
Mom: What silly thing your complicated brain cooked up! You don't have an addiction. No need to make a mountain out of a mole hill.

Submission: Maybe she's right! I just need to focus on something else & I'll be fine.
Rebellion: You know nothing about me! I'll go and do it anyway.

Listening to Rebellion


I sat with my frustration that people don’t understand what desperation I have been through to admit that I have an addiction and I need help. I feel really angry. How dare they claim to know me better than I know myself? It was hard enough speaking these matters out loud, I feel to raw to accept any comment. I just want to be allowed to exist with all my pain. Don’t erase me, don’t obliterate me, don’t pretend things are fine. Things are not fine.


I’m not even asking YOU for help. I already censored myself so you only see the nice stuff. I have a huge wound in my soul and I need time to nurse it. Please don’t interfere. I need to trust in myself again, that I can care for and protect myself. Don’t step in anymore.


Underneath my strategy of rebelling, I deeply want to have spaciousness to sit with myself.


I sat with my fear, anxiety, and a compulsion that kept whipping me up in a frenzy, saying: “I’ll die if I don’t get support right now.” I see how I’ve always longed for someone to take care of me, because I failed myself over and over again. I have also had many experiences of reaching out for help and receiving too little too late. I need protection, hand-holding, all-around caring, 24/7.


Underneath my strategy of rebelling, I deeply want safety.


I looked at myself. Even without my mom’s comment, why did I want to join a support group in the first place? I want to put my recovery first, my conscious contact with a Higher Power first. I don’t want to make productivity and social validation my Higher Power. I want to invest in myself. I deserve care. I deserve time. I deserve nurturing. I want to make a sustained commitment towards my recovery. Support group or not, I want to invest time in myself. Recognizing this, my grip around this one and only strategy softens.


When I shift my focus from the stimulus (what others say or do) back to my internal needs, I find spaciousness.

Listening to Submission

I’m tired, and just the thought of fighting or persuading drains me. I want to fit into the positive, manageable image others have of me. I so deeply want to belong. That engulfing warmth is what I’ve been chasing all my life. But even more than belonging, I want to show up whole. I want to show up as a source of inspiration, of spirit, for people around me.


When I can name what belonging truly means for me, I’m connected to my inner power.


I realized that both rebellion and submission makes my body tense, taut. As I touch the needs beneath each reaction type, I could relax. I believe this is how I can reclaim choice in my life.




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