“Be forgiving with your past self.
Be strict with your present self.
Be flexible with your future self.”
— James Clear
The quote above is from James Clear’s book *Atomic Habits*, an excellent read in my opinion. He explains how to build good habits and dismantle bad ones. One of his key ideas is “habit stacking”: connecting a new behavior to an existing habit so the new habit becomes easier to maintain.
This post marks six months since I began the Recovery52 photography project—halfway through the intended 52 weekly reflections. I initially felt confused about the milestone because I recognized my six months of abstinence a couple of weeks ago. Then I remembered, I started this project after my last binge, once I had stabilized from withdrawal and could think clearly enough to form an intention and outline a plan. What surfaced this week was a familiar danger zone from several past relapses, something I call “habit slipping.”
As I caught up on my daily planning and journaling yesterday, I noticed I had missed a couple of days. I’d missed a few morning meditation sessions. I skipped one of my scheduled gym days. And I had allowed some cheat meals to slip in—comfort foods chosen over healthier options. I can justify these slips: flexibility with my time, understandable interruptions, being of service to others, allowing myself a little grace. I know I can recover from these slips without losing ground in sobriety.
But looking back over past relapses, letting good routines slide for more than a few days left me anxious, guilty, unfocused, and vulnerable. When “habit slipping” combined with what I call “trigger stacking” (which I’ll write about next week), the result was too often a fall back into drinking. Not this time.
I am aware of the slips, forgiving of myself where appropriate, and firmly back on my habit track. James Clear writes well about this process in his “Get Back on Track” guidance. The reminder is simple and empowering: missing once is an error; missing twice is the start of a new (unwanted) pattern.
I also rely on another powerful tool: remembering the fear and pain of relapse. When anxiety builds from slipped habits or stacked frustrations, recalling my most recent relapses is grounding. I never want to experience that suffering—or cause it to others—ever again. I don’t stay in that fear long; it’s only a reminder that moves me quickly back toward gratitude for how far I’ve come and how healthy my life is now.