Addiction doesn’t always look like a bottle. Sometimes it looks like a paycheck. Sometimes it looks like scrolling. Or isolation. Or chasing women. Or overtraining at the gym with something hollow in your chest. But no matter what form it takes— Addiction is never just about pleasure. It’s about pain. And it’s not the trauma that drives it. It’s the relational starvation that followed. Because without safe connection— Without a place to bleed and be seen— You’ll always turn to the thing that can

You kept begging to be loved… but you didn’t believe you deserved love. That’s the poison nobody saw. You needed her to say you were enough. You needed her to prove you mattered. To soothe the ache. To hold the storm down in your chest. But even when she said it… you didn’t believe her. Because the war wasn’t between you and her. It was between you and you. And between you and God. Brother… you weren’t asking for reassurance. You were asking for rescue. “Make me feel worthy.” “Make me feel safe.