Cutting Away the Hand - 236

It's a strange human tendency to cling to things that aren't good for us—addictions, toxic friendships, unfulfilling jobs. There's a particular kind of discomfort, not quite painful enough to spur action, that can be even more damaging. It lulls us into complacency. But true growth rarely comes from comfort.

This reminds me of a powerful, albeit drastic, biblical verse: "And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and cast it from you; for it is more profitable for you that one of your members perish, than for your whole body to be cast into hell" (Matthew 5:30). This idea—severing what's harming us—resonates deeply. Often, we perceive the very thing holding us back as inseparable from ourselves, even necessary.

I've experienced this firsthand. I've spoken before about using drugs as an escape. Even knowing the physical toll they would take, I convinced myself the momentary relief was worth the consequence. My "hand," my vice, wasn't seen as an enemy but as a merciful friend, offering a break from internal burdens. It was self-care, I reasoned. I deserved it.

But that "hand" was doing me a grand disservice, like an overprotective parent shielding their child from all life's bumps. It wasn't offering help, but numbness. This derailed my progress in therapy, creating a cycle of improvement followed by relapse. Eventually, this self-medication started impacting the things I truly cared about, like my writing. My passion waned, my flow disappeared.

I began to see that even choices that felt good in the moment could have long-term consequences. I learned to consider both immediate gratification and future well-being. I couldn't sell my future self short.

This pattern extended beyond substance use. I've also clung to unhealthy relationships, obsessively focusing on others' problems to avoid my own. It was another form of numbing, a distraction disguised as caring.

Now, self-care means recognizing when something or someone is hindering my goals and having the courage to let go. If I don't, I risk never achieving my ambitions. These fleeting comforts must be cut away, even if they feel essential. I can learn to write left handed.