I have always been a yo-yo when it comes to weight and fitness. In recent months, my running has been plagued by a weakened Achilles. Rather than meet the injury with disciplined rehabilitation, I have noticed my regimen of running, food journaling, and outdoor lifestyle has slipped a little, resulting in being some 20lbs off the mark.

It seems that my other life form of idolatry revolves around food. I often find myself up late and snacking. Sometimes, my working late leads to late-night food binges. Being a little overweight isn’t the end of the world, right? Totally not the end of the world, but that doesn’t make it okay.

I have enrolled in repeating my gruelling and undulating marathon that I completed this year, but this time, I am focused on beating my time and learning from the lessons of my last race. My favorite part of the race was about 7 miles in, staring at the spectacular coast setting, praying with gratitude, and asking only for the ability to run the race set before me.

Whether it’s mountains, running, or cycling, I find that anything outdoors takes me away from the perils of living in the technological age, at least if only in part.

My relationship with the hills and mountains is summed up well in the video below; the high places seem to be significant for me as it’s where I feel closest to my God.

I find that one of the first declines in my well-being is when I don’t do enough to get out—I tend to put on weight and get slippery in my relationship with food. The break from the day-to-day routine is like a soft reboot for me, and I believe it’s a spiritual rejuvenation and an incredible life tool.

The call to hard physical work and a lifestyle of outdoor adventures becomes loud when I inevitably get miserable from not making enough time to get out.

If you are someone who never ventures outside of comfort zones and rarely gets proper air in one’s lungs, then I encourage you to try making some changes to your routine to include exposure to the elements and practice embracing some physical discomfort in the form of exercise.

At this time of year, so many will put off the work until the new year. I love the saying, “Don’t put off till tomorrow what you can do today.”

---

The three circles of SAA are a useful tool to establish sexual sobriety, but they also help to take a pulse check of what we make time for in life, where our focus lies.

I know my inner circle behaviors fully well, and that part obviously is filled with the things that need to be put to death, as they led to making my life unmanageable in the first place: acting out sexually with porn or any compulsive and obsessive sexual behavior.

My middle circle behaviors are things that either lead to inner circle behaviors or, if left unchecked, erode my healthy lifestyle. I have things like getting drunk but also getting unfit and overweight. It’s a sign to me that something isn’t in balance in my self-care rituals.

And the outer circle, there are so many things I get back now that I live a more yielded life of service and recovery. I get to live outside my old cell, watch the sunset, look out at the stars, and feel closer to my maker in these moments.

At times complacency can make the middle circle appear like the outer circle and it’s at junctures like this I must spring into action rather than apathy.

Now that winter is upon us, I look forward to every run, every cold night camp, every soak in an ice tub or the cold sea. It keeps me sharp and present in the moment.

Take a look at the three circles and see how you could get back hobbies you don’t make enough time for.

I wrote very early on that my first impressions of recovery were that some aspects would be like a tightrope walk, while others would need bubble wrap.

The principle of the Step One admission that our lives have become unmanageable means we need help. In my journey toward that, I tried blockers, filters, and, for a little while, I flirted with the concept of accountability.

The fear surrounding someone knowing the detailed use of your tech, what you look at, how much time you spend, and when you spend it, is daunting for someone who has lurked online in the shadows for most of my life.

Being willing to go to any distance for recovery is not limited to but includes being brave enough to embrace discomfort and change for the greater good of one’s sobriety.

---

I have chosen Covenant Eyes, and the journey has allowed me to use technology safely. For some tips on the best way to set up screen time with Covenant Eyes, see our “Make Tech Work for You” section.

The journey has had its ups and downs. It is both my favorite tool and my biggest resentment at times. Along the way, I found bugs and workarounds, which led to me submitting a report that, in turn, led to an update to patch it. I’ve learned the hard way how to get the most out of it as a tool. When using it alongside making an administrator for the app store and setting up app and usage limits, it becomes a powerhouse.

It’s the only VPN I can trust because it allows Covenant Eyes to monitor all web activity on the device, whether in the foreground or background.

One or two awkward moments of chat with a sponsor, when considered along with how much good it brings, make this the most important subscription service in my monthly bills. I also support fellow members by being an ally for them as they follow in the footsteps of accountability.

Today was a stressful one as I worked on my day job, starting early. I had seen some old bookmarks in my Google, and the process of removing them led to a background notification on my report. While not seeing or being aware of it the receiving a message from my sponsor still spikes uncomfortable feelings for me, the need to please people and be liked still consumes me from time to time. But I am reminded that here is a man who heard my entire inventory, and the only other who knows such depths is God.

Aside from the occasional awkward and uncomfortable moments, there are also downright funny ones. The screen grab monitoring alerts to the gym bro bodybuilder and the social media influencer girls, and on occasion, the sponsor on a web call with his top off. We agreed that I would really have to use my imagination and guile there.

In bookending one of those moments, I focus on the gratitude that I have learned to receive and commit to help. I continue to work on recovery with tech, and when things are uncomfortable, I never lose sight of why and how I ended up needing support in the first place.

---

If you’re feeling brave enough to take the step, why not check out our homepage link for a 14-day free trial of Covenant Eyes?

When I first entered the program of the 12 steps I found my faith again, it’s human nature to cry out to God when we hit our true bottom, almost everyone at some point in life will cry out to God in desperation.

My girlfriend of nearly ten years always knew I had a complicated history with my faith but no matter how disconnected I felt, I could never bring myself to walk away fully and denounce my identity in faith.

I had previously written in my post titled the “heart of the matter”, that a former partner and I had no choice but to terminate during pregnancy due to a rare chromosomal condition.

What I neglected to mention was the most bizarre sequence of events that led to that painful experience.

During the week leading up to the 20 week scan if I remember rightly, I caught on that I was just a donor in this relationship, it felt like life was all of a sudden out of my hands but I made the best of the situation that I could.

I spent the evening alone and late at night I scrolled through all the tv channels and happened upon this video on God TV.

I teared up and called my sister who was my font of knowledge on all things parenting, I sent her the link to the video. I remember feeling amazed at the parent’s lack of resentment towards God for their loss and pain. I remember the words clearly. “I don’t know how I would cope if that was me”

Trisomy 18 or Edwards Syndrome occurs as infrequently as 1 in 10,000 pregnancies. As I read up on it, little did I know just how significant this insight would be.

We were called in after our scan to provide blood as the doctors were concerned about a halo effect on the baby scan, we were told it was an indicator of a few conditions and our bloods would help offer some clarity.

I said I know this might sound weird but could it be Edwards Syndrome? I will never forget the look of disgust at the mere question and the bewilderment on the consultant’s face and my girlfriend and her parents as I enquired.

A week or so later not only was the diagnosis of Trisomy 18 / Edwards Syndrome confirmed but the focus shifted towards the fact my blood carried the cause, it seemed that my Chromosomes carry a glitchy 13th and 18th pair of chromosomes. I have what is called a reciprocal translocation.

I had passed on an imbalance of the 18th chromosome which led in turn to the trisomic pregnancy. Naturally, I blamed myself and my already estranged girlfriend blamed me too for killing our baby. The prospects of carrying to term were unlikely at best and with that, my then partner decided to terminate the pregnancy. I respected her decision but I didn’t share her view.

I had felt like God had given me some sort of forewarning but instead of the miraculous I had to endure great sorrow. I was hurt but I was wholeheartedly convinced that there was something bigger than me and I couldn’t just chalk this up to coincidence.

Recently I watched the episode of The Chosen where Simon Peter walks out on the water briefly to meet Jesus in the waves. In the storyline the writers weaved in a loss of a pregnancy for Simon and his wife. His pain was that here he was suffering the pain of loss and Jesus didn’t seem to do anything to prevent it. The plot landed very close to my heart based on my own experience.

My real moment of reconciliation with the author of my faith didn’t take place on the waves but in the rooms of recovery when I found Jesus sitting in a church room with red plastic chairs and addicts committed to living healthier lives.

Only all these years later do I feel able to talk about it and reflect on the experience, that pain and trauma enforced a lot of things I did in my attempts to run from it.

The outdoors are a safe haven for me. It’s usually a place for me to escape in a healthy way. This weekend, the usual serene walk in the woods was a stress-filled anger fest – not mine, at least that’s how it started.

My stormy stroll in the wilderness was a test of my recovery, my relationship, and my faith, and let’s just say I didn’t pass the test with flying colors.

The last two and a half years have been like a refining process for my relationship. My love for my partner has been tempered by the hardship that accompanies life in addiction recovery. The hours spent in therapy mean that we, as a couple, have both made progress in the capacity for understanding, empathy, forgiveness, and the ability to relate when we listen.

Sunday, however, was just one of those days. Normally, I outstride my girlfriend when we walk, and it’s often remarked that I need to slow down. In fact, most folks comment on my pace when walking. It’s always been a thing of mine to walk briskly. Today, however, there was an anger in the stride of my partner. We don’t really argue much these days, as we communicate and air our feelings in much more productive ways.

As we paced through the woods, almost like scanning through a movie scene at twice the speed of real-time, it was apparent that serenity was not on the menu in the woods today. Instead, I asked why the anger, but instead of an answer, it was an eruption of emotions and resentment. The hardest part was that it was all true. This was like having my inventory thrown in my face, and my immediate response was a greatest hits play through my character defects.

On display were my basic responses to how I used to deal with discomfort. Let’s see, I got defensive because I let my feelings get hurt, I attacked back, I tried to check out of the drama unfurling before me, only to strop off in the opposite direction, flung my phone into the woods, bottled up my negative feelings, and suppressed emotions. I was at war with the person I love the most.

Don’t get me wrong; it wasn’t all just my defects. But here was a test if ever there was one. As we circled back home in the car, I got dropped off. The paces between the car and the front door to the empty house, I thought, “Here we go, might as well act out.”

I got in, locked the door, and the great big ball of emotions I was trying to keep a lid on erupted into a cry and a prayer, “God, I surrender my relationship to your hands, keep me intact, and don’t let me go my own way.”

Instead of acting out, I got my house in order, mainly in the form of tidying the kitchen and getting on with some admin while I listened to my newest Audible credit choice, “Letting Go.”

I had passed the test, but I recognized my defects erupted like a mento in a bottle of coke. Lucky for me and my iPhone, there were no cracked screens or too much damage done. This was a case of surrender and work my tenth step. I promptly needed to admit my wrongdoing.

I share this because it’s important to remember that we aren’t promised easy lives. In fact, the opposite is true. When we live life on life’s terms instead of our own, we have to accept that we need to lean into the uncomfortable on a regular basis.

Along with my admissions came some assertions that I needed to make, not out of some point scoring, but as part of my own boundary setting.

I am grateful for the tools that have shown me that I have the eye to spot my defects now, to call time at the bar when they need chucking out. I don’t get to let defects, fears, and resentments run amok now, as it leads to distorted thinking and bad conduct.

My partner has been an incredible support throughout our entire relationship, and in the last few years, she would have had so many reasons to walk away, but she didn’t.

The poet Oliver Wendell Holmes coined the phrase, “Don’t be so heavenly-minded that you are of no earthly good.” And despite that phrase getting under the skin of some, it makes total sense to me.

My program of recovery is a spiritual one, and there is no getting away from that. I believe all addictions are our attempts to find the spiritual in the Mundane, to borrow a phrase from Russell Brand.

Sometimes, my spiritual life turns me into an aloof space cadet whose otherworldly mind loses focus on the responsibilities in the very real and tangible world. I’ve spent so much of my life failing to be present enough through addiction that it feels cruel at times when I focus on my self-care so much that I miss the obvious.

This site can only attempt to provide support for partners of recovering addicts; our journeys are very different but not that different at the same time. As a couple, we both have to walk out our own self-care. That’s not just an addiction thing; it’s just how relationships need to work.

---

I have reflected much on an aspect of my compulsive behavior; the phrase “Romantic Obsession” really stood out to me. Its evidence predates my sexual awakening. I can still remember my first infatuation from the age of 8, and when I look back, I can really see that there has always been a dysfunction in my ability to connect with others, especially females.

I think my dysfunction was obscured by the traits I would seek out in partners. I didn’t ever have a visual type, but the one thing that connects the dots of most of my sexual partners was the feeling of being kindred broken souls. My off-the-charts neediness to express what I thought was love was always accompanied by the off-the-charts need for validation or feeling desired. That infatuation-heavy behavior meant I was always good for the dating and honeymoon phase, but I never understood why most flings and relationships would end with rejection.

My desire now is to get the balance right in walking out my self-care and program, to be reliable, present, and supportive to my friends, family, and most importantly, my partner.

In the past, I conflated trying to support my partner with trying to give advice or tell her what to do. It’s not uncommon for there to be a gap between a man’s reasoning and a woman’s when times get tough. I will never forget the “nail in the head” video.

---

I can only take care of my side of the street; the moment I try to be the knight in shining armor with all the answers, I miss the point of companionship. I can provide moral support and tangibly help with day-to-day things, but I can’t fix things or give answers to questions I haven’t been asked. My intentions may well be supportive and honorable, but I try to limit my contributions to making my observations or concerns known.

My hope in sharing this is that if you or your partner feel like you are going through hell, I would encourage applying an adaptation of the serenity prayer:

---

“Lord, give me the humility to listen and not seek to fix, the courage to take care of myself and still show up, give me the wisdom to know when and how to speak.”

---

Just like my recovery, my role as a partner is about progress, not perfection.

My relationship is in recovery; it’s not healed just because I’ve cleaned up my act. It takes time, new memories, shared victories, intimacy, support in the little things, and consistency in hearing and doing as much as speaking.

I believe our road is one to intimacy; my addiction has been an intimacy disorder thats plagued me since I was a small boy. Where there has been chaos, I know that if I’m patient, there will be peace.

For today, I want to be more balanced with my feet on the ground.

“I’ve had a lot of ups and downs in my life and a lot of wonderful accolades, but the best thing about me is that if an alcoholic comes up to me and says, ‘Will you help me stop drinking?’ I will say, ‘Yes. I know how to do that.’”

Matthew Perry

I have so many fond memories of growing up watching friends and to this day if I see an episode it is both familiar and comforting to harken back to simpler time in life for me.

Matthew Perry was for me an actor who never got to fulfil his true potential but we all know why that was. His years of addiction to Alcohol and drugs are no secret, in fact he is a figure that for the last years of his life was dedicated to recovery and offering hope to addicts who suffer.

I woke up this morning to the news of his passing and I have been unpacking it all day, as when most celebrities pass the multitudes make their feelings of sadness be known with favourite clips or a picture. Obviously for someone who has been a hugely adored character in a show that hasn’t really let up in popularity, most of the outpouring has related to the beloved character Chandler Bing.

I found this and couldn’t help but relate to the feelings of looking at phases in one’s life through pictures and knowing the struggle at play beneath the surface appearance.

I downloaded his book when it came out on audible and it’s a no holds barred sharing of what things were like for him. As I continue to listen I can’t help but feel his story will continue to steer addicts to abstinence based recovery. Matthew Perry was said to have attended over 6000 AA meetings and was an advocate for speaking more to remove stigma and misconceptions.

The many moments of joy in Friends will be a legacy for sure but the legacy of carrying Experience, Strength and Hope will also remain as a roadmap and a rallying cry to service.

To Chandler I say…..Good game! Good game! Good game! 😭

And to Matt – thanks for sharing and carrying the message of hope. 🙏

Rest in Power Mattman.

“You are defined by your character and the content of your heart, not your past mistakes.”

Anon

I used to work in insurance; the entire industry revolves around risk manipulation and interpretation. Whether someone gets insured or not depends on how it’s presented to the market.

The problem I had with this was that people were treated as simple, black and white risks, reducing individuals to mere entries on a piece of paper.

Looking at it this way, it’s almost its own form of dehumanisation. I used to dislike how I’d spend time talking to a ‘new risk,’ building rapport, hearing their story about their business or their family trade they would take over. Sometimes, I’d be excited for them, only to discover that when I consulted my superiors, they would take a ‘view’ on it.

They’d say, ‘This risk is too high,’ or, call me cynical, but… It would result in either a sky-high premium or no quote. I’d then have to sell them the notion that they were too high a risk, and at times, I could hear the disappointment – being the messenger of bad news.

What made these ‘risks’ seem so unfavorable to my boss was the element of the unknown and previous experiences. Only by taking the time to understand the human side of the story could they have appreciated what was presented to them. Often, we all start with high premiums and gain confidence with time.

---

I look back on that time working in the industry, and I still shudder at how miserable it was and how much it conflicted with my nature and values. When I think of my career and my struggle with addiction, I see many similarities.

The corporate ladder pressure enabled my sexual acting out behavior. I often had these binges during high-pressure times at work.

I left that line of work quite some time ago, but life in addiction recovery feels like a constant risk mitigation effort to me. It involves identifying triggers, pre-empting certain environments, relapse prevention, and setting conditions and boundaries for myself.

---

My entire life now feels like some form of insurance policy. It’s crucial in this process not to allow myself to be reduced to a piece of paper, as if my journey to well-being were just a job.

I am in recovery, but I refuse to be defined by it. I have faith in a higher power that doesn’t see my past but recognizes me in my entirety. I am not merely a horse in a race that may or may not fall at the next fence.

My job is to navigate this by communication, connection, trusting God to take care of the terrain and keep me on the path if I just do the basics of self care and service which is not to be confused with self serving.

The most important thing is being well and looking forward to the future, rather than being terrified of it. Living here and now, in the present moment, is my focus. While I have hopes for the future, the more I stay in the present, the less I have to worry about living in that bubble.

Throughout the years, people come and go in life—some we grieve and some we forget. Then there are those immovable landmarks that stand by you when the sky falls and the world breaks.

My sister and my partner have been two loving and forgiving women in my life, who love almost completely unconditionally. For that, I can say I am blessed.

My sister recently sent me a song, knowing how emotionally moved I get by music. She probably knew it would make me cry.

Her husband has always been a friend and a brother to me. I’ve always loved him, and we share a love of music. Throughout the years, we’ve been to gigs, drank together, played in garages and practice rooms, and recorded bits and bobs.

The first time we went to see bands, their eldest son was very little. This week, the three of us went to see the now-reunited Blink 182, and my nephew is a young man entering his twenties.

In my life, I drifted from my family as I pursued work and different personal interests. If I’m honest, my addiction skewed most of life’s priorities.

At this gig, I felt a sense of reconciliation was at work. There is something deeply spiritual about music to me. It was a healthy coping mechanism that should have taken center stage in my life. There is no better way of expressing emotions than through song.

The band Blink 182 recently released the song “One More Time,” and as I said, the message of the song hit me. The reconciliation of their brotherhood, the forgiveness, and support are all through the lyrics. The healing of rifts and feuds between the members reminds me of the forgiveness that some permit me to walk in. The lyrics “do I have to die to hear you miss me” scream of the opportunity to work on relationships while we still have time.

Forgiveness is a choice, it’s a seat at the table, and there are some who refuse that invitation and can’t or don’t want to see beyond my past. But to live my amends until I can make my amends, I save the seat at the table, not closing the door in the hope that we may dine together.

The last few years, to me, have felt like battling back against an illness that could have been fatal. In my corner has been my team, my God, my loved ones, the fellowship of the new brothers I have gained through service and recovery, that number grows almost on a weekly basis.

Addiction is giving up everything for one thing, and recovery is giving up one thing for everything.

I have journeyed from grieving my imaginary friend that were my addictive behaviors and now experience real connection through service, love, and just being present for life. Life is an adventure when we reject the counterfeit.

Music became a source of pain for me years ago, but I now feel some healing and restoration is at work. That guitar is being dusted off, and the voice is finding volume once more.

Here’s to the next rock show.