Before it Was a Problem, It Was a Solution; Addiction as a Symptom
When we think of addiction, we often jump to the aftermath: broken trust, lost jobs, health crises, fractured families. But before any of that happened, before the word “addiction” even entered the picture, substance use was doing something. It was working. It was solving a problem.
That’s the part we don’t talk about enough.
For many people, using substances starts out as a way to cope. To feel something; or to feel nothing at all. To belong. To sleep. To function. To survive trauma. To quiet anxiety. To escape depression. To be productive at work. To shut out a world that felt unsafe or unbearable.
In this way, substance use is not the problem — it’s a solution.
And addiction? It’s often just the visible tip of a much deeper iceberg.
Substance Use as a Survival Strategy
Let’s be clear: no one chooses to develop a substance use disorder. But people do choose relief — often because they have few other options, or because the pain they carry feels too overwhelming to bear alone.
I’ve worked with clients who grew up in homes where emotional neglect was the norm — where no one asked how they were doing or showed up when they were in pain. I’ve worked with people who were assaulted as children and never told a soul, who learned to push everything down because they had to. I’ve supported people with undiagnosed bipolar disorder, chronic anxiety, or deep-seated shame about their sexuality or identity. Or even just clients who wanted to be productive, do more, be successful.
In all of these stories, substances became the buffer, the thing that softened the edges, filled the void, or helped them achieve their goals.
And when that substance starts to wear off, and life rushes back in at full volume; of course they reach for more. Not because they’re bad or broken, but because they haven’t yet found another way to meet that need.
Behind Every Use Is a Need
This is why we can’t just say “stop using” and expect recovery to stick. That’s like ripping off someone’s life raft before they’ve learned to swim.
Real recovery work starts by asking, “What was this substance doing for you?”
What need was it meeting? What pain was it soothing? What was missing that made this feel like your only option?
It might have been calming, numbing, energizing, comforting, social, or spiritual. For some people, substances gave them their first taste of connection or confidence. For others, they helped them silence intrusive thoughts or memories that no one else understood.
And that’s why abstinence (while powerful and life-changing for many) is not the only definition of recovery. Not everyone who uses substances has a substance use disorder. And not everyone is ready or able to stop. That’s why harm reduction is so critical: it allows us to meet people where they are, reduce suffering, and build trust over time.
Substance Use Disorder Is a Symptom
Addiction is often the result of layers: trauma, mental health challenges, systemic oppression, lack of access to care, disconnection, poverty, and loneliness.
When we treat the symptom (the use) without addressing the root (the pain), we set people up to fail — or at best, to white-knuckle their way through life. But when we dig deeper and help someone heal the why, we give them the tools to choose something different.
And this is where peer support shines. When someone with lived experience says, “I’ve been there, I get it,” it creates a bridge that no textbook ever could. That connection opens the door to honesty, hope, and healing.
Reframing Our Approach
If we can shift the conversation from “What’s wrong with you?” to “What happened to you?”, we move from shame to empathy. We stop trying to control people’s behavior and instead support their healing. We see the whole person, not just the symptoms.
This approach doesn’t excuse harm, but it does explain it. And more importantly, it allows for compassionate accountability, where people are encouraged to take responsibility without being reduced to their worst moments.
Final Thought
Substance use was the solution long before it became the problem.
And when we understand that, we can begin to offer new solutions — rooted in safety, connection, meaning, and care.
Healing is possible.
But only when we take the time to understand the “why” behind the use — and help people find something better.