Killing Addiction – Part I: The Baby Bear

After a long, intense, and at times debilitating battle with alcoholism—my “bear”—I finally killed it. 

For nearly two years, the bear would show up like clockwork at around 5 p.m. every day. It crept in quietly at first, disguised as a cuddly little friend. A reward and pacifying ritual. 

I was anxious, stressed, and desperate to relax and numb. The separation. The excruciating silence of a quite house. Being away from my kids. The deep sense of emptiness that washed over me every night.

And I was struggling to figure out who I was without the noise and the armour.
The bear helped. At first.

It wasn’t a monster back then. It was a baby bear—cuddly, harmless, a companion in the cave. But deep down, I knew… this thing wasn’t here to save me. It was here to eventually consume me.

So I made a vow: I will kill the bear.

It took nearly two years to summon the courage to do it properly. Two years of setbacks, of waking up ashamed, of promising I’d stop, only to give in again. Pouring half-empty bottles of tequila into the sink in the morning as a statement, a punishment — only to find myself at the bottle shop again that afternoon.

Two years of trying to land the fatal blow… and missing. Until finally... with the help of microdosing, intention, and a spiritual warpath — I did it. One clean shot to the neck. 

Thud.

I killed the bear. 

I stood over its limp body on the ground and just stared at it. And f***… I was proud. Proud of the effort. The resilience. The countless tiny wins strung together like beads on a warrior’s necklace. I felt clean. Clear. Alive.

But then something happened I wasn’t expecting, something that shook me to my core. By killing the baby bear… I woke up its mother.

Killing Addiction Part II: The Mother Bear 

👉 This is a sample chapter from my upcoming book, Kind Warrior. You can pre-order or read more at www.trentleyshan.com.au/books