My (Hidden) Addiction

Read time: 2.5 minutes

I noticed something strange about myself last week.

The funny part?

It was just a perfectly normal Tuesday.

No fires to put out. No impossible deadlines. Nothing.

And yet, I felt...

Bored. Anxious. Almost hollow.

So I did what many of us do when faced with that feeling:

I created intensity.

I wanted to put together an additional project with a tight timeline for myself. I wanted to start a challenging conversation that could have waited. I felt this need to fill every hour with something that would give me that familiar rush.

That's when it hit me:

I'm not just someone who handles intensity well…

I was low-key becoming addicted to it.

But, I know I'm not alone.

I see this pattern in almost every high achiever I work with:

• The leader who unconsciously creates team drama when things get too stable

• The entrepreneur who can't enjoy a day off without creating a new business idea

• The creative who sabotages healthy relationships in favour of volatile ones that provide emotional intensity

We've become addicts chasing the neurochemical high of adrenaline, cortisol, and dopamine that intensity provides.

But here's what most of us miss:

This addiction isn't really about loving intensity.

It's about avoiding something else.

We've mistaken this addiction for ambition.

We've labelled it as "high standards" or "loving a challenge."

But let's call it what it really is:

A sophisticated avoidance strategy.

How do you know if you're addicted to intensity? Ask yourself:

• Do you feel strangely empty or anxious during periods of calm?

• Have you built an identity around being the person who thrives in chaos?

• Do you struggle to appreciate achievements before moving to the next challenge?

If you're nodding, you're not broken.

You're just caught in a pattern that many high performers share.

But here's the truth about intensity addiction:

It's unsustainable.

It masks deeper wisdom. It keeps you from your next level.

Because the real growth isn't in constantly seeking more intensity.

It's in developing the capacity to find meaning, aliveness, and fulfilment in the spaces between peaks.

It's in learning to value recovery as much as performance.

One of my clients discovered this the hard way after burning out for the third time.

He's a founder in his mid-forties who built a thriving consulting practice while maintaining what he calls his "high-performer routine" of 5 am workouts, 70-hour work weeks, & "running on deadline adrenaline"...

When I asked him what he was avoiding by staying so intensely busy, he eventually admitted:

That honest moment became his turning point.

Not to abandon his ambition.

But to create a sustainable rhythm that included both intensity and recovery.

So how do we break the intensity of addiction while still honoring our drive for achievement?

Start with these practices:

The most successful people I know aren't the ones who can handle the most intensity.

They're the ones who've mastered the rhythm between intensity and recovery.

Between doing and BEing.

Between performance and presence.

I'm still learning this myself. And I love the possibilities that lie ahead.

That Tuesday when I noticed my obsession?

I resisted the urge to create intensity.

Instead, I sat with the discomfort. I got curious about what was underneath it.

And in that space—the space I'd been avoiding with busyness and drama—I found something valuable waiting for me.

A new insight. A deeper connection. A moment of genuine peace.

Not as exciting as a crisis, perhaps. But infinitely more sustainable.

And ultimately, way more fulfilling.

Your turn now.

Happy Saturday!

Much Love,

Julian