Stop Asking “Is This Behavior Okay”
I get some version of this question in most supervision sessions. A client is playing a video game, scrolling social media, or watching Netflix, and clinicians want to know: is this an addictive act, or is this a healthy coping mechanism?
Here’s the thought I keep coming back to. There is a real difference between addictive escapism and a healthy coping mechanism, and here’s the secret: it’s not found in the behavior itself.
Let’s use video games as an example. Yes, they can be used as addictive escapism. Picture a client who says, “I’ve had a long day, I want to play video games, get lost in the challenge/story/puzzle, and forget about what’s going on.” That’s escapism. That person knows he’s running away.
Now picture a second client who has had the same long day and needs to decompress. He plays thirty minutes of a game, fully engrossed in it for that period, then comes back and re-engages with life.
The actions are identical. What separates the healthiness of it is the intent.
Unhealthy escapism happens when someone runs away as quick and as long as they can. They put stuff on the shelf because they don’t want to deal with it. And here’s a key component of escapism: they don’t take it back off the shelf. When someone engages a healthy coping mechanism, they know it’s to take an emotional break for a period, and then re-enter. The intent to re-enter is there from the beginning, and so is the follow-through. That’s the difference.
I usually don’t bring this up with clients until nine months to a year into recovery, sometimes longer, because early recovery needs things black and white. Porn: unhealthy. Fantasy: unhealthy. Connection: healthy. A nervous system stuck in the amygdala is in fight-or-flight mode, which can only hold simple rules. But as people mature and grow, they start to realize that video games are not the problem. Through their growth, they begin to tell the difference between needing a thirty-minute breather and running away from a problem. The action hasn’t changed. Their intent, focus, and desires have changed.
This same principle shows up in isolation versus solitude, which are functionally the same behavior with opposite intent. If someone from your recovery group texts you on a hard morning and you ghost them, that’s isolating. If you say, “I’ve had a really long week, I’m going hiking for the afternoon to be in nature and with my thoughts,” that’s a completely different experience, and one I’d call absolutely healthy. Though I’ll add the obvious caveat: people can turn solitude into an unhealthy escape too. Going hiking at six in the morning on a Saturday when your kid has a ballgame isn’t solitude anymore. It’s avoidance wearing solitude’s clothes.
The practical takeaway for clinicians: stop asking “is this behavior okay?” Start asking what it’s for. What’s the intent behind picking it up, and is there an intent to put it back down? One caution. This question only works when the client can answer it honestly, which takes time in recovery. Asked too early, it gives a client one more thing to minimize or rationalize. Once a client sees beyond the action into the intent, that client has entered a powerful place in recovery.