Addiction to screens, sugar, alcohol...my own journey and Spirituality and Community as a solution

What I Was Really Craving Wasn’t TV

When I was a kid, I watched hours of TV every day. When I wasn’t watching, I craved it. I fantasized about getting home, dropping my backpack, and disappearing into a show.

The relief I felt when I could finally check out from life was enormous.

If my family could have afforded video games, I would have played those endlessly too.

Looking back, my addiction started young.

I chose TV over homework. Over friendship. Over presence.

So now I ask myself:

What was I seeking?What was I avoiding?What was I lacking?

Today, I believe I was starving for connection, ritual, community, spirituality, and belonging.

I just didn’t know it yet.

I wouldn’t understand that until I found it in 12-step recovery at age 32.

Raised as an atheist surrounded by churchgoers

My father raised me to be a staunch atheist and a rebel. I pushed away anything that included the words God, church, or spirituality.

Meanwhile, many of my friends, neighbors, and extended family went to church weekly—sometimes more. They tried to shove religion down my throat, which only strengthened my resistance.

They gathered together.

They sang together.

They prayed together.

They participated in ritual.

 While my parents did build some community and activities for us, we didn't have rituals and we were not encouraged to be present or connected.

Even though I was repelled by religion, I think the other kids were receiving something essential.

They had communal ritual.

They had shared meaning.

They had connection to something bigger than themselves.

It scared me. And maybe, deep down, it intrigued me.

Now I can see it clearly:

I was starving for the kind of connection that spirituality can create.

Came alcohol then recovery - connection, spirituality, and community

TV and sugar eventually turned into alcohol.

And alcohol eventually brought me into 12-step recovery.

There, I encountered the very thing I had resisted my whole life: spirituality.

And I found the thing I needed most: community and belonging.

In recovery, I received love. Support. Structure. Ritual. Tools.

Including the idea of a Higher Power.

As a single mother, I experience a lot of anxiety and overwhelm—especially around big decisions. Sometimes my usual tools don’t work. Calling someone. Going to a meeting. Talking it through.

My sponsor often asks me, “How much of this can you turn over to your Higher Power?”

Usually, I can let go—at least a little.

And in that letting go, I find trust. Relief. Space to breathe.

What a gift.

Alcoholism has oddly turned out to be a gift because it has led me to community, ritual, connection, and spirituality—the very things I was unconsciously craving as a child.

Balance - being proactive AND I'm human

No amount of alcohol, scrolling, TV, or sugar will ever satisfy our biological need for connection.

But I am human.

I still use TV sometimes.

I still scroll.

I still turn to sugar.

And when life gets really hard—especially if I’m not attending meetings regularly—I can feel the old cravings resurface.

Often, I need to experience enough discomfort to remember to reach for healthier strategies.

That’s okay.

And I also want to build rituals that support me before I hit that level of pain.

Here are the rituals I’m actively cultivating:

• 12-step meetings

• Yoga and short walks

• Creative and expressive arts

• Mindfulness and breathing practices

• Spiritual exploration in therapy

• Weekly Unitarian church (what?! I know!)

  
  

These aren’t about perfection.

They’re about nourishment.

Spirituality in therapy

As a therapist, I offer my clients many of these same ideas.

You don’t have to identify as religious—or even spiritual.

But having something larger than your immediate anxious mind can help.

For some, it’s a Higher Power.

For others, it’s nature.

Creativity.

Community.

A future self.

A wise inner part.

I believe the arts themselves can be a spiritual practice. Creativity connects us to purpose, meaning, and something beyond our everyday thinking.

A solution to addiction is connection.

If you’re feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or disconnected, you don’t have to figure it out alone.

I have a private practice in Berkeley, California, specializing in trauma-informed expressive arts therapy for sensitive creatives who feel stuck. If this resonates, I’d love to connect.

Reach out to schedule a discovery call.

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