Why We Numb: Addiction, Betrayal Trauma, and the Real Roots of Coping
When Numbing Feels Like the Answer
When I was little, I remember playing with Barbie, Ken, Growing Up Skipper, and Jody dolls (anyone else remember Jody?). I dreamt of becoming a veterinarian. Not becoming addicted to cocaine and living in a trap house or going through disclosure from my husband’s addiction.
I’m guessing many of you reading can relate. Addiction takes our dreams and tries to rewrite them.
The good news is, we can take our lives back. We can recover and we can heal.
But to do that, we have to understand how we got here in the first place.
Escaping Ourselves Wasn’t the Plan: It Was the Pattern
Sometimes it was trauma. Sometimes it was abuse: emotional, physical, sexual, or the kind that doesn’t leave bruises but still breaks something inside you.
Sometimes it was our FOO. Whether we were raised in chaos, or never had anyone show us how to deal with big, uncomfortable feelings. Sometimes, we were taught not to feel at all. “You're too sensitive.” “Get over it.” “I’ll give you something to cry about.” My mom’s favorite when I had a migraine: “Stop crying. Crying is only going to make it hurt more.”
Maybe you grew up in a house where you had to walk on eggshells. (Hello, my house). Or maybe you were the adult too early. Or maybe everything looked fine on the outside, but behind closed doors, it was a whole other story. (My house again.)
Whatever the root, the result was the same:
We became experts at escaping ourselves, our memories, our feelings.
My First Time Using Wasn’t About Fun, It Was About Relief
I still remember the first time I used cocaine. Even after years of therapy, anon meetings, trauma work, support groups, and CBT, that memory remains.
It’s one of the “Bookends” in Bookends of Recovery.
The other? My last rock bottom.
Cocaine helped me escape the memories of childhood sexual abuse. The verbal and physical abuse from my mother. It gave me relief, even if just for a moment. And when something gives you relief in a world that has never felt safe, you crave it.
You go back to it.
Again and again.
Until it’s not just something you do. It becomes how you cope. How you function. How you numb and avoid.
That’s what happened with hypervigilance too. It started as a way of making me feel like I was regaining control over something uncontrollable. In reality, it was causing me more anxiety. I was reliving my trauma over and over again.
Here's the thing that no one tells us when we’re in it:
Eventually, the thing you thought was saving you starts destroying you.
I went from being a weekend warrior, to living in a trap house with my dealer in a matter of months. Watching people come and go, justifying and rationalizing my use. “I’m not hitting up. I’m fine.” But I wasn’t. I used every day. All day. I was isolating myself and missing out on family events. I was lying to everyone I loved…including myself. I was an addict.
Why Do We Numb? Because Pain Hurts.
Whether it’s substances, shopping, pornography, scrolling, overworking, hypervigilance, or even people-pleasing, we’re not doing these things because we’re weak or lazy.
We’re doing them because we’re hurting.
We’re trying to feel less of something that feels unbearable.
Pain. Shame. Neglect. Confusion. Fear. Betrayal.
Maybe your mind spins with worst-case scenarios. Maybe your chest tightens. Maybe you feel like you’re about to jump out of your skin. And maybe nobody ever taught you how to be with those feelings without drowning in them.
So, you numb. Not because you’re broken. But because your brain is overloaded.
The Real Problem? We Weren’t Taught How to Handle the Hard Stuff
I remember being told to, “Just sit with your emotions.” But that’s bad advice for anyone who’s experienced trauma. Sitting in pain without tools isn’t healing. It’s torture.
What I needed was support. Guidance. Skills.
What I often got was silence. Or blame. Or denial. Either from my family or from the counselors I went to after my husband’s disclosure. My family didn’t want anyone to know what happened with my uncle. The counselors didn’t understand pornography addiction back then, or why I’d want to stay after he had so many online affairs.
So, I learned to bypass. Avoid. Escape. First with drugs, then with hypervigilance. Maybe you or your loved one have too.
And when our go-to coping mechanism is gone? It doesn’t feel freeing. It feels terrifying.
You’re suddenly face-to-face with emotions you’ve spent a lifetime running from, and no one gave you a manual on what to do with them.
The problem was never just the using.
The problem was what we didn’t know how to manage because no one taught us how.
That’s not a flaw. That’s an unmet need.
Numbing Isn’t Weak. It’s Adaptive.
If you’ve lived through abuse, betrayal, or chronic stress, then numbing wasn’t weakness. It was strategy. It was your nervous system’s way of saying,
“This is too much. Let me protect you the only way I know how.”
But healing asks something different.
It asks us to learn how to meet ourselves differently. Not with punishment. But with practice.
Not with shame. But with support.
It doesn’t mean we’ll never want to escape again. It means we begin building other roads. Roads that don’t lead to the same dead end.
This isn’t about blame.
It’s about reclaiming.
What’s Coming in This Series
This post is just the beginning. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be unpacking:
1. The real roots of emotional discomfort and how they get wired into our bodies
2. The top numbing behaviors (including the sneaky ones we call “productive”)
3. The cost of coping and what we gain when we outgrow the strategies that once saved us
4. How to respond to big emotions without spiraling, shutting down, or reaching for old habits
And I’ll be sharing some of the exact tools I turn to when my brain whispers,
"You know what would feel better than this? Literally anything else."
Some of this will be here on the blog some on Substack.
Wanna Stay Connected?
If this hit home, I’d love to know. Tap that heart, leave a comment, or send a message through the contact form. A simple “same” or “this got me” is more than enough.
I’m also sharing deeper reflections and behind-the-scenes content over on Substack.
And I’m considering opening a free, private chat space just for Bookenders. A quiet, supportive spot where we can talk healing without judgment. If that sounds like your kind of thing, let me know.
You’re not alone in this.
You don’t have to do it perfectly.
You just have to keep showing up.
💛
Laura
