Problems, Processes, & Paradigms

The scene opens with a desperate, codependent wife—scrambling to “make” her addict husband sober up and become the man she prayed for. Scene after scene, we watch her move in and out of offices, searching for the cure to his problem. What she doesn’t yet realize is that his problem has quietly become the family’s problem. But at this stage, she’s deaf to that truth—blinded by the need to fix him.

After months, even years, of the treatment-recovery-relapse cycle, she finds herself asking the same question to yet another therapist: "What can I do to get him to stop?" But this time, the answer is different. Clear. Direct. The therapist gently suggests that her answers won’t come from fixing him—but from seeking therapy for herself.

And so, she begins the journey.

Confused, exhausted, but determined, she finds a therapist who welcomes her into the healing process. Something about the office, the therapist, or maybe the vulnerability of it all makes her want to run. But perhaps that same discomfort is what lures her to stay.

As the sessions unfold, bits and pieces of her reality begin to surface. It’s as if she’s been blindfolded for years, locked in a dark emotional dungeon—and now, the blindfold is slowly being removed. She begins to see that her husband’s addiction had become her obsession. In a twisted way, his dysfunction gave her purpose. Monitoring his every move kept her too busy to confront her own pain—especially the pain of emotional and physical abandonment.

But the process intrigues her. She dives deeper. Her new addiction is no longer her husband—it’s healing. She becomes the perfectionist, the self-help crusader, sharing therapeutic principles everywhere she goes. She’s celebrated for her transformation. She feels accomplished, appreciated, even loved. Eventually, she divorces her husband.

Only to find herself in a similar relationship soon after.

Why? Because she hadn’t truly healed. She had simply traded one addiction for another. She became a paradigm of codependency—just dressed in different clothes.

This is the kind of pain that runs deep. The kind born from emotional abandonment by parents too busy building a life to enjoy the one they had. The pain of not being heard, not being needed, not being validated. The pain that leads us into dysfunctional relationships in the first place.

This pain doesn’t heal easily. It must metamorphose—again and again—before it’s defused and no longer jeopardizing our lives. The danger lies in fearing the process, especially when past paradigms have taught us to avoid it.

So be mindful. Healing is not just about progress—it’s about depth. It’s about resisting the urge to trade one obsession for another. Problems must be resolved at the root. And yes, that process can be long. But it’s worth it.

Don’t settle for surface-level healing.

Go through the process.

It will set in motion a paradigm shift that can truly transform your life.