Raspberry Iced M

I once equated “slipping” to failure. That if I found myself thinking the same thoughts, feeling the same burgers, leaning toward the same patterns, then nothing had really changed.

But I don’t see it that way anymore.

Slipping isn’t the same as going back. It’s often just a moment.

What matters most is what I do next.

1. I notice it sooner. This is the first difference. Before, I’d hold the same pattern for days. Sometimes longer. Without fully even recognizing it. Now, I catch myself more quickly. A thought that feels familiar, a reaction that feels automatic, an urge that feels a little too comfortable. That awareness matters – because you can’t interrupt something you don’t see clearly.
2. I pause instead of acting immediately. My instincts can’t be trusted. They used to be “feel —> react.” Now I try to create space. Even if it’s just a few minutes. I don’t respond right away or act on my first impulse. I interrupt thoughts halfway through. And those small pauses have changed everything.
3. I ask myself what’s actually happening. Slipping usually isn’t random. There’s something underneath it. Stress. Loneliness. Frustration. Fatigue. In other words, a trigger. So instead of jumping to judgment toward myself, I try to be curious. “Why does this feel appealing right now, and what am I trying to avoid/fix?” Those questions help me respond instead of react.
4. I don’t panic. This one took time. Slipping used to trigger a spiral. Just tonight, I had a moment of dishonesty, and contemplated whether or not I should even write in my prayer journal – because if I can’t get it right, why bother at all? If I immediately return to impulse, has anything really changed? Don’t I have to start all over? What if I repeat everything all over again? Now I try to remind myself that moments aren’t patterns and thoughts are not decisions. I don’t have to follow something just because I felt it.
5. I redirect. In moments like these, I don’t try to fix everything in the moment. I just choose something different. My impulse just a few hours ago led me here – to my blog. I’m not spiraling into shame. I’m just stepping away, changing my environment, and doing something grounding to shift my focus. My small mistakes now aren’t dramatic, because I don’t allow that. I just switch the activity, and usually that works.
6. I choose the next right thing. Not the perfect thing. Not the ideal outcome. Just the next right step. Tonight, for me, I followed my impulse with redirection, like I said, and tomorrow, I’ll correct the statement I made impulsively (I can’t do it tonight because it’s too late). One honest response, one restrained reaction, one better decision than I would’ve made before…those are always the next right things.
7. I reflect later, and not in the moment. After things settle, I go back and look at it. Not to criticize myself, but to understand what triggered it, and reflect on what to do differently next time. That reflection has helped turn slips into progress.
8. I remind myself that I’m not starting over. This might be the most important part. I am not back at the beginning, as if all the progress I’ve made and all the work I’ve done has meant nothing. I’m not the same person I was. And the fact that I now notice…pause…question…and choose differently is the change.

Slipping back into old habits and old reactions does not undo any progress I’ve made. It means I’m human. What matters the most is whether or not I stay there…or whether I catch myself and choose differently. And every time I do that – even imperfectly – I’m reinforcing something new. It’s not perfect. But it’s more aware. More grounded. And that the version I am working toward.