What Am I Running From?

For a long time, I thought the solution to my problems was changing my behavior. If I could just stop doing the things that caused trouble, life would settle down. I spent years trying to manage outcomes by adjusting actions, but it never worked for long. I’d act better for a while, then fall right back into the same patterns. It wasn’t until I asked a more honest question that things began to change: what am I running from?

I had to admit something uncomfortable. I can’t really change my behavior if I don’t understand what’s driving it. My actions weren’t random. They were responses. Reactions. Attempts to escape discomfort. Alcohol was just the most obvious example, but it wasn’t the only one. Even sober, I kept running — from feelings, from fear, from uncertainty, from responsibility, from the possibility that I might not be enough.

When I stopped drinking, the running didn’t stop. It just changed form. I tried to manage life through control, people-pleasing, overworking, fixing others, staying busy, staying distracted. On the outside, things looked better. On the inside, the same old unease was there. That told me something important: alcohol wasn’t the root problem. It was a solution — and when it was gone, I needed to understand what it had been solving.

That’s where what am I running from in recovery stopped being a philosophical question and became a practical one. I had to look at how I actually moved through the world. How I reacted when things didn’t go my way. How quickly I reached for relief when I felt uncomfortable. How often I tried to change the outside instead of dealing with what was going on inside me.

Step Four gave me a way to do that. Not to beat myself up, but to see the truth. I wasn’t just cataloging resentments or fears. I was discovering patterns. I was learning how I react to the world and why. That’s a huge shift. It moved me from “I need to act differently” to “I need to understand myself better.” That understanding is the foundation of self-awareness before behavior change.

What Step Four really gave me was awareness. And awareness doesn’t magically fix anything, but it gives me something I never had before: choice. Once I can see my patterns, I’m no longer completely at their mercy. I may still react, but I’m less confused about why. I’m less surprised. I’m less convinced that something outside of me is the problem.

But awareness alone isn’t enough. Knowing my patterns doesn’t automatically make me act differently. That’s where the holistic nature of this program really shows up. Change happens in layers.

Step Ten is where awareness becomes practice. I start watching myself in real time. I notice when old reactions show up. I catch things earlier than I used to. Not perfectly — just earlier. That’s progress. Changing behavior in sobriety doesn’t come from force. It comes from attention. From being awake enough to notice when I’m running again.

Sometimes I see it before I act. Sometimes I see it while I’m acting. Sometimes I see it after. All of that counts. Step Ten isn’t about eliminating defects; it’s about staying engaged with my inner life so I don’t drift back into unconscious living.

Step Eleven is what makes any of this sustainable. Awareness without connection turns into self-obsession. Monitoring my behavior without a Power greater than myself turns into control. I don’t manage my way into change — I stay connected. Daily prayer and meditation keep me grounded. They remind me that I don’t have to solve everything. I don’t have to outrun discomfort. I don’t have to fix myself before I can be useful.

This daily connection is what transforms insight into growth. It’s what allows holistic change in sobriety instead of constant self-correction. I’m no longer relying on willpower to behave better. I’m relying on a relationship with something greater than me to guide me through life as it is.

And then there’s Step Twelve. This is where everything integrates. When I help someone else see what they’re running from, I reinforce what I’ve learned about myself. When I share honestly about how I’ve changed — not perfectly, but genuinely — I stay connected to the truth. Helping others keeps this from becoming a self-improvement project. It turns it into a way of life.

That’s the full arc for me. Discovery leads to awareness. Awareness leads to practice. Practice is sustained by connection. And connection finds purpose in service. I don’t change all at once. I change over time, by staying engaged with this process.

I used to think I needed to act differently so I could feel better. What I’ve learned is that I needed to understand myself so I could live differently. When I stop running and start looking, things shift. Not instantly. Not dramatically. But honestly. And honestly is enough to build a life on.

There’s lots of recovery meetings available to attend in-person or virtually. If you’re struggling with drinking, seek out the help you need, you can’t do it on your own. I know I couldn’t do it on my own and still can’t.

Find a sponsor that will take you through the steps as outlined in the literature. You’ll see more of the truth about who you are and eventually it’ll change your life.

Change Your Truth, Change Your Life.

Haler Smith