“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new.”
— Socrates
Another week sober. Another week appreciating what sobriety feels like in my body and mind. Last week I thought I would tackle one of my fears, but something else pushed its way to the front again — boredom. Not the mild kind, but the deeper version tied to my history.
This week brought several small events that stirred memories of how I once handled boredom: alcohol, distraction, procrastination. I felt an echo of the old sensations — the heaviness in my chest, the urge to escape, the restless unhappiness of doing things I didn’t want to do but did anyway, silently, with a forced smile. It reminds me how quickly boredom used to slide into the desire for numbness.
I’ve had lapses in the past connected to boredom. Sometimes boredom teamed up with loneliness or stress; sometimes it stood alone. Either way, I drifted into the same escape: “Maybe just one,” “It’ll be fine this time,” “You can handle it now.” I’ve failed that test more times than I like to admit. And with how solid my recovery feels right now, the fear of relapse is real. Confidence mixed with old emotional triggers can be a dangerous combination.
Boredom happens. It’s part of being human. Sometimes it comes from not knowing what to do with myself. Other times it comes from expectations placed on me — tasks I don’t want to do, routines that feel meaningless or endless, obligations that drain me. Before, I chose numbness. Now I’m learning to choose differently.
I’m reframing boredom. I’m taking responsibility for how I respond to it. Instead of letting empty time turn into restlessness, I fill it with things I enjoy — photography, puzzles, walking, reading, or even just organizing something small. And when I can’t change the activity — like taxes or laundry or waiting idly for a delivery or a service — I try to change my perspective instead of running from the feeling.
This week’s success wasn’t in avoiding boredom but in recognizing the old feelings when they rose and choosing a different response. I didn’t bury them. I talked about them — with friends, with my therapist, and even with myself. Self-awareness, mindfulness, and recognizing my “pause points” are becoming real tools. They help me stay ahead of the old patterns instead of getting swept up in them.
Recovery feels more solid this time. Not perfect. Not effortless. But solid. I see myself responding to life with more intention. I’m learning what to do with uncomfortable feelings instead of escaping them.