breaking habits

What’s the hardest part of breaking a bad habit?

Is it initiating the break? Knowing what to replace it with?

How about recognizing that you’re even about to do the habit?

“To crap on the carpet… or to not crap on the carpet…”

As someone with a master’s degree in addictive tendencies, I tend to think it’s a good combo of all three. Well, that and the fact that our brains are hardwired to resist routine-tweaking. On an evolutionary level, change can be dangerous. So the habits on which we’ve gotten by seem the safer bet. (Even if said habits aren’t exactly healthy for us.) In that way, our minds act like the mom who’s afraid of letting us play or ride our bikes past the driveway, where white panel vans might roam. So, we – many of us – tend to stay in the driveway and yards of our own minds and lives once we build them, never venturing into the change straightaways. The problem? Sometimes we put fertilizer in our front yard gardens that doesn’t serve us. The result? Bad habit plants spring up, blooming life ruining fruit. Sometimes it’s chemical. Sometimes it’s not. But the question only we can answer is: is it detrimental to my life? My spirit? My productivity? Relationships? Brain?

For me, of late, that answer’s yes.

Why?

Because my bad habit plants’ve grown from an inundation of internet seeds.

Sure, it could be worse. I could be numbing my head and nether regions with lewd media. I could rationalize that. I could say – it’s just social media. But, here’s the thing. Experts on the topic tend to agree: when novelty’s at your fingertips, addiction doesn’t sit far beyond that. Your brain’s addiction loop gets stuck on the anticipation/reward cycle that accompanies scrolling down an IG or Facebook feed. Sifting out entertainment diamonds that’re truly cubic zirconia – educing fleeting laughter, only to be forgotten as your mind demands the next ephemeral thrill. And the result? If I’m being totally objective, this alternate reality changes me. It makes me impatient. (Why not, when I’m accustomed to having what I want a tap away at all times?) It makes me lazy and uncreative. (What else would I expect when I’m passively enjoying the works of others, versus making my own?) It’s a time sink. (Think I’m lying? Tell me how long five minutes of squats versus Snapchat or Facebook feels?) And, next, is the disconnection. Often, there’s a schism between the digital manifestation of others and how they are in real time. Likewise, there’s a similar schism between how we view them, how they really are, and our concern of whether they feel the same way about us. (Have that friend who always lauds your awesomery and talks about meeting up with you online? But never actually does?) Then, finally, do you ever notice how much easier it is to be cold, standoffish, or unempathetic when you’re interacting with the digital (or text message) version of someone?

(I like zero point zero of these effects this habit has on me…)

Now for the irony.

While this all collectively makes me feel more disconnected, upset, uninspired, and unproductive, do you wanna know what I turn to the moment those bad feelings come? More of the same. I’m back in my addicted habit backyard, diddling my dome with bits of information I don’t need, in hopes that something will appease the very demons it’s created. And that’s the point when I ask myself, “Alright, then. So, what’s the answer – now that I’ve confirmed I can’t turn to the internet every time I’m feeling down?”

Well, the first step’s the prep work.

1. REPLACEMENT ACTIVITIES

What would you be willing to replace it with? (Keeping in mind that “It” might not be social media for you. “It” might be anything from the darker areas of the internet, to the new Duck Donuts the cruel cosmos inimically implanted not a block away from your abode.) It can be simple. Making a cup of tea. Doing twenty squats. Leashing up your pup and wandering to the park. (That last one tends to be a favorite of mine; Einstein always adhered to leaving the scene of his problem entirely for a walk, as it helped him gain clarity and a new perspective.)

Then, once you’ve got that?

2. “HALT” FOR TRIGGER IDENTIFICATION

Next’s the recognition phase. That slanted moment – from feeling an unfavorable feeling to plummeting off the precipice – is a slippery one. So, the sooner you can recognize the fuel that makes braking seem less favorable than mashing the accelerator, the better. What are you feeling? Some of the best addiction professionals’ve come up with an epic acronym for this called H.A.L.T.. Are you Hungry? Angry? Lonely? Tired? It’s said that these are the states at which we’re at our worst. (Though, as someone dealing with chronic pain, I’d add “Hurting” to that first “H”; ’cause I’m a shrew when consumed by pain.) Whatever feeling you wanna implant or add in that acro, the takeaway remains the same: we’ve got the least amount of willpower when we’re in a weakened state. So, identify that, and it’s half the battle.

The other half of that battle?

3. FIVE SECOND RULE

Actually doing something about it. And this is where the malevolent enemy of change, mentioned above, steps in. The one that wants us to stay, playing in the dark yard of our consciousness – comfortable in the chaos. Behavior and addiction specialists suggest that, when we give our brains too much room to mull over a good course of action – we’re less likely to do it. Our chances of talking ourselves out’ve a superior move, puts us into body pause. Freezes us in fear. We have outstanding plans for habit change, but that doesn’t matter. The rational sections of our psyche could perform a whole Powerpoint presentation with charts and graphs about the imminent 100% success rate of making the change. Yet, we resist, many of us. Why? Because of that aforementioned, evolutionary construct programmed within us to resist the unknown – no matter how good an idea it seems.

And that’s where the five second rule comes in. Your countdown to actual action.

However simple it sounds – it’s even simpler. All you do, is your HALT method (figure out what you’re feeling). Then, you opt not to act on your habit (because you know it’s just a palliative band-aid for your weak state). Next, you remember what your replacement ritual’s gonna be. (Squats? Go for a stroll with Rover? Hit up the dojo where you can legitimately hit things and get exercise in?) And, then, finally, you perform a five second countdown. What the five second countdown does, is give you deadline whereafter you have to act. It’s like a chemical reaction. Instead of an abstract concept, your new habit’s like an end product on the other side of your thinking-about-it reactants. And the countdown’s a catalyst. A mentally energetic enzyme that courses from your cognition to your body, demanding you to move into the next phase the moment the 5 seconds ends. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… and GO.

So, next time that nasty habit grabs you by scruff, strike back with a bit’ve H.A.L.T.

Then, follow with a 5 second countdown blastoff out’ve your habit backyard.

And then? Then you enjoy your journey out into those growth roads.

(If you look closely, that bird’s making a special excremental delivery right over Old Habit Blvd…)