Let me describe myself as it relates to my addiction. I am a puny pawn, and my addiction is this dangerous, diddling dragon.
Yes, I have done a lot of things, like serving an honorable full-time mission and earning my eagle by age 13. Yes, I am a seminary graduate, an institute graduate (twice). Yes, I am a former club leader at the University and high school. Yes, I am a former Deacon's/Teacher's quorum President, and former 1st assistant in the Priest Quorum. Yes, I am a talented musician and athlete. Yes, I have served in elder's quorum and young men presidencies. Yes, my callings and accomplishments go on and on, but the I let all of these things reinforce my mentality as a pawn because I felt like I could defeat that dragon, that I could smack him in the face and walk away as the victor of this vice.
After years of this mentality, I came to realize that, no, that dragon could never be beat by me. I thought I had an impenetrable armor and shield and realized it was all cardboard. I came to realize that my perfect unbreakable sword was a dinky rusted and broken butter knife. What about this puny dragon? Why he wasn't puny at all, I was and still am minuscule in comparison. He knows my every move, he intimately knows me and my every scar, for he was the one to inflict all of them and I let him and even invited him to wound me.
I came to realize that I cannot fight it. I cannot even begin to fight it. I had for so long, and have been burnt, gashed, and bashed over and over again. My own selfish ambition and pride was really just more cunning lies from the dragon. That same awful ambition and disgusting dignity were the glasses that distorted my whole reality that the dragon used to torture and torment me even more.
I realize now that my only option is to literally turn the opposite direction of this beast and run. I need to run with all of my might, and the only thing that will save me then is in sending the perfect knight, my Savior. This I practice every day, especially when that boorish beast rears his ugly head. That is my dogma now, it's a change of turning my a creed of cowardice, to the courageous creed. In running away and sending my Lord, I have finally begun to find healing, freedom, and peace. I know He can, and He has, over and over.