Hi, I’d like to present an idea:
“For an addict, it’s not unreasonable to take radical steps toward self-betterment.”                   
 
Suppose you considered yourself addicted to supernormal stimulus. You’d notice of course, that its presence was pervasive and all around you—almost like you were an alcoholic working at a bar. Except, that in this case—the case of supernormal stimuli—you’re not afforded ultimate control over your sensory intake. Good luck trying to block out sights, sounds, smells or otherwise; especially those focus-grouped and continuously engineered to better hijack your attention.
This reality, rather, of addiction to comfort, is more like trying to quit voluntary alcoholic consumption, while being subjected to forced-down hourly shots of vodka.
 
 
Here, I will examine the Comfort War through the lens of addiction; providing a rough outline of the scientific phenomena that I often refer to as being “consumed by passion”. The Comfort Warrior finds his/herself distraught, feeling that they lack the faintest sense of motivation within a life saturated by meaninglessness—and yet that could not be further from the truth. A roaring ambition resides deep within them. It is only that they’ve been overcome by its constant obsessive intensity; that they’ve suffocated it under layers of comfortable indulgence. Consumed by their own passion, prone to bouts of despair and frustration, they are for brief moments, vividly aware that they are not themselves—they are not the way they should be. Only by leaving themselves ungratified by cheap stimuli, does it surface their awareness in a booming riotous salvo of self-discovery, self-discipline, and the pursuit of clarity.
 
 
Let start by examining dopamine and endorphins. To briefly describe the function of these brain chemicals, we’ll take a look at two studies conducted on mice.
In the first[1], researchers genetically knocked out their dopamine receptors, and the mice would not eat food that was placed right in front of them—and would starve to death. However, they would enjoy, chew and swallow food that was placed in their mouths directly.
In the second[2], researchers knocked out the endorphin receptors of infant mice, and when separated from their mother, they would not cry out to her—despite this behavior constituting a death sentence in the wild[3].
Dopamine is a stimulant that incentives us to pursue and to seek, endorphins are indigenous morphine-like substances that make possible the experience of love—literally passion—while also acting as a natural pain-killer and inducing a sense of oblivion.
 
In gratifying our senses, adapting them to increasing levels of stimulation, we desensitize the same mechanism that drives us forward. In experiencing trauma, loneliness, or any other form of psychological pathology we pine for replacing this cardinal sense of inattention, of escaping ourselves, of comfort. Keith Richards, the (The) Rolling Stones’ guitarist, said of his heroin-dependence: “the contortions that we go through, just not to be ourselves for a few hours”[4].
 
And yet, despite this result, your dopaminergic neuro-adaptation can be remediated by leaving it unstimulated. Just like if you were to get used to a strong smell, or bright light, but given enough time without it, reset back to normalcy. This has been aptly demonstrated by the research of Drs. Douglas J. Lisle and Alan Goldhamer, authors of the book The Pleasure Trap[5], who took patients accustomed to junk food, and returned them to a state of finding nutritious, healthy foods to be delicious.