Yeah Right, this girl doesn’t know the definition of slow down, I am WIDE open 24/7.

One of the hardest battles in recovery isn’t always the addiction itself.

Most of the time, it’s me. My mind, my thinking. My stubbornness.

It’s the part of me that gets frustrated, overwhelmed, emotional, and suddenly becomes convinced that I know exactly what I need. It’s the voice that whispers, “Just change your medication. Stop taking it. Take more. Take less. You know your body better than anyone else.”

That voice has gotten me into trouble more times than I care to admit.

I’ve learned that decisions made in the middle of frustration/sickness are rarely wise ones. Emotions make everything feel urgent. They convince me that I have to act right now. They tell me that waiting is necessary and asking for help is pointless.

But recovery has been teaching me something completely different. Or it has been attempting to!

Slow down.

Pray.

Listen.

There is a reason God has surrounded me with people who genuinely care about my healing. He has given me wise counselors, psychiatrist, friends who love me enough to tell me the truth, mentors who pray for me, and people who aren’t afraid to say, “Maybe don’t make that decision today.”

Those voices are gifts.

For so many years, I have treated advice like opposition. If someone questioned my plan, I became defensive. I thought they just didn’t understand me. Deep down, I believe that I know better than everyone else what I needed.

The painful truth?

That mindset has led me into some of the biggest regrets of my life.

I’ve made impulsive decisions because they felt right in the moment, only to spend weeks or months trying to recover from the consequences. I’ve confused feelings with facts and urgency with wisdom.

Proverbs reminds us, “Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed.”

God never intended for me to heal alone.

Sometimes His answer to my prayer isn’t a lightning bolt from heaven. Sometimes His answer is the wise friend telling me to wait another day. Sometimes it’s my counselor asking a hard question. Sometimes it’s my psychiatrist encouraging me not to change something impulsively. Sometimes it’s someone simply praying over me when I can’t think clearly for myself.

That isn’t weakness.

That’s grace.

I’m learning that maturity isn’t proving I’m right. Maturity is being teachable.

It’s admitting that I don’t always see clearly when I’m hurting.

It’s trusting that God can speak through the people He has intentionally placed in my life.

I’m trying to replace my instinct to react with a new habit:

Pause.

Pray.

Call someone.

Listen.

Then decide.

That simple pause may save me from another decision I’ll regret.

I’m asking God to keep softening my heart. To help me surrender my need to be right. To quiet the pride that says, “I’ve got this,” and replace it with humility that says, “Lord, show me through the people You’ve sent.”

Healing isn’t just about taking the right medication or making the right choices.

It’s also about becoming the kind of person who is willing to receive wisdom.

Today, I’m choosing to slow down.

Jesus, help me to slow down. I help me to pause and pray. Help me to not just ask for advice but listen to the advice. I pray for wisdom, and the strength to do what YOU would have me to do! YOU are the Great Physician and YOU have the perfect plan for my healing! Jesus, I choose You! I love you Lord.