Swimming With Sharks
How I Learned to Spot the Addict Self Circling Below
I used to think recovery was about getting the shark out of the water.
You know — kill the cravings, heal the wounds, get it together, and poof — no more threat. Smooth sailing.
But here’s the truth I’ve had to choke down over and over again:
The shark never leaves.
It just waits.
Shark Behavior 101
I recently found myself reading about how sharks behave around humans. Surprisingly, most species don’t immediately attack. They’re curious. Cautious. Sometimes even avoidant.
But if the water gets murky — if there’s blood in the water, if you panic, if you’re alone or weak — that’s when the predator kicks in. They test. Bump. Bite.
Not because they’re evil.
Because they’re sharks.
The Addict Self is the Same Way
My addict brain doesn’t always thrash around. It’s sneaky. Calm. It waits beneath the surface until the conditions are just right.
When I’m hungry, angry, lonely, tired? It swims closer.
When I skip prayer, ghost my sponsor, or lie to myself? The water gets darker.
When I isolate? It’s a feeding frenzy waiting to happen.
The addict isn’t gone. It’s just circling.
So How Do I Spot It?
Awareness is everything. But I’ve learned to spot the shark before it bites by using the tools that recovery gave me:
Quiet time: stilling the waters so I can see the shadow below.
Outreach calls: letting others yell “Shark!” when I’m too stubborn to see it.
Honest inventory: spotting blood in the water before it spills.
Prayer and surrender: anchoring myself in something bigger than the beast.
What’s the Right Response?
Swimmers are taught not to panic when they see a shark.
Don’t flail. Don’t run. Stay calm. Group up. Swim steady.
Same in recovery:
Don’t panic — that’s the addict’s playground.
Don’t lie — sharks smell dishonesty like blood.
Don’t isolate — find your crew and get back to shore.
Return to what works: tools, truth, connection, God.
A Poem for the Swim
Swimming With Sharks
By DeeBo
I swim with a shark I cannot unsee,
It circles inside, just waiting for me.
It’s quiet some days, like it’s drifted away,
But it’s always one breath from stealing the day.
It smells my lies, my pride, my pain,
It’s drawn to hunger I can’t quite name.
It waits when I skip my calls and prayers,
And drifts in close when nobody cares.
But I have a boat, a lifeline, a Light,
A crew who reminds me to hold on tight.
I still swim some days, but I don’t forget—
That shark is patient. It ain’t gone yet.
So I steady my stroke and I scan the wave,
I reach for my Power who knows how to save.
‘Cause this ain’t a swim I can solo through—
But by God’s grace, I ain’t shark food too.
Final Thought
Recovery doesn’t mean the shark dies.
It means we learn to swim smarter.
And on the hard days, I remember:
I’m not alone in the water.
🦈💙 DeeBo