how to heal an addictive personality.
when chaos feels like home. if you can relate, this is for you.
i’ve been realizing something about myself that i didn’t want to admit for a long time: sometimes chaos feels like home. the rushing. the overthinking. the need to fix, to control, to plan. it’s the stimulation that keeps my mind moving so fast i never have to sit still long enough to feel. it’s sneaky. this addiction to movement. because it looks like productivity. it looks like discipline. it looks like i have it all together. but really, it’s survival dressed up as ambition.
when you grow used to adrenaline, peace feels foreign. silence feels suspicious. and sometimes it’s easy for calmness to feel boring. it’s almost as if stillness feels like you’re missing something. and when your nervous system has lived in “go mode” for years, it mistakes calm for danger. that’s why it’s so easy to fill every quiet moment with scrolling, planning, or talking. the pause can feel unbearable. very much giving the beyoncé meme when she won album of the year for the first time. it can be jarring.
i’ve always had an addictive personality. when i love something, i go all in. with people, projects, routines, even healing. i can romanticize the chaos. i can convince myself that running on fumes means i’m passionate. but lately, i’ve been asking myself: what if i’ve been addicted to the very patterns that keep me anxious?
so now, i’m learning to heal my addictive personality by being addicted to the right things. by building structure that feels safe, not suffocating. by giving myself systems that ground me instead of control me. for me, that’s been warm ginger water before checking my phone. journaling before breakfast. tidying my space before the world asks anything of me. these small rituals remind my body that safety doesn’t have to be chaos. that comfort can come from consistency, not crisis.
it’s wild how our bodies hold memory. every time i slow down, my nervous system resists, it wants the familiar buzz of urgency. but healing, at its core, is just repetition in the opposite direction. it’s choosing regulation over reaction. it’s teaching your brain that peace is safe to crave. and that takes structure. that’s why i created the 12-week wellness year — because real healing isn’t about doing more; it’s about doing with rhythm. twelve weeks of softer structure, steady systems, and grounded accountability. not the kind of “lock-in” that burns you out — but one that builds you up.
if you’ve ever felt like you can’t keep up with your own life, this is your reminder that you don’t have to sprint your way to healing. start small. just one new ritual. one better boundary. one slower morning. structure isn’t punishment; it’s protection. it’s how we rebuild safety in the body when chaos has felt like home for too long.
one habit that helped both myself and my clients when it comes to a morning routine is having a 90-min, 60-min, 30-min, and 15-min morning routine. on the days you’re really short on time you can choose one and still feel good about it. this is how we meet ourselves halfway.
because maybe the goal isn’t to be perfectly healed or perfectly perfect. maybe it’s just to be present enough to notice when your body feels calm. maybe it’s to let stillness become your new comfort zone. to crave peace the way you used to crave adrenaline.
healing my addictive personality has been less about ‘fixing’ myself and more about choosing new homes for my energy and places that don’t require me to lose myself to feel alive.
moving abroad changed everything about how i relate to time. as a native new yorker, i was raised to move fast. we walk fast, talk fast, eat fast. the ny minute is real. but mexico city taught me to take my time with my time. to pause between things. to slow my mornings, stretch my evenings, linger at meals. slowing down has done more for my nervous system than any supplement or superfood ever could. it’s helped me realize that presence is productivity. that you don’t have to rush to arrive. sometimes the real healing is found in how gently you choose to live your life.
cheers to slowing down.
cheers to craving peace instead of chaos.
cheers to getting addicted to feeling good, for real this time.
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with gratitude,
Arielle