A Day That Changed Everything:An Addict To An Infinite Recovery

February 23, 2026

Jason Shiers, Author & Psychotherapist, Speaker, and Book Author 

Tom O'Connor, Publisher

"A Day That Changed Everything" refers to an event, experience, or decision that profoundly impacts a person's life, leading to a significant shift in their perspective, future, or circumstances. 

Jason Shiers, a renowned psychotherapist and author, recently published an excellent book: Infinite Recovery Project: The Intelligence of Addiction - A Trauma-Informed Spiritual Approach to Recovery, Healing, and Lasting Change. The Infinite Recovery Project is a comprehensive program that combines trauma-informed therapy with spiritual practices to provide a holistic approach to addiction recovery.

According to Jason Shiers

On January 20, 1977, a knock at the door shattered my childhood innocence, marking the start of an unimaginable journey. At just five years old, I answered the door to find the police, who delivered devastating news: my dad had been killed in a tragic accident. What followed was chaos — my mother's cries echoing through the house, the incomprehensible weight of loss, and a young boy sent to a neighbor's house with no fundamental understanding of what had just happened. 

However, this was not the end of my story; it was merely the beginning of a journey that would test my resilience and ultimately lead me to profound healing. My journey from that fateful day to where I am now is a testament to the possibility of healing and transformation.

This was the moment everything changed. Grief hit our family hard, and I didn't know how to make sense of it. At five, I lacked the words or understanding of what was happening, so I turned to the only comfort I could find: food. It became my escape, my safe place, the one thing that made me feel okay in a world that suddenly felt scary and unpredictable.

While my family was consumed by their grief, my internal world spiralled into chaos. Food served as a temporary balm for the deep wounds of loss, but it wasn't enough to heal them. By the age of ten, my struggles had manifested in ways that could no longer be ignored – I was withdrawn, lonely, overweight, and struggling to connect with others. 

My family, desperate to find a solution, turned to the psychiatric system, where I was diagnosed with depression and prescribed antidepressants. At just ten years old, I became part of a system that labelled me as broken but offered little understanding of the root causes of my suffering.

The diagnosis and medication didn't provide relief; instead, they deepened my sense of isolation and confusion. By my early teens, my life had become a chaotic mix of crime, escapism, and rebellion. From stealing money to buying motorbikes in secret, my actions were desperate attempts to regain control of a life that felt anything but stable. 

These behaviors were not just acts of wrongdoing but cries for help — signals of a young boy lost in a world that didn't see or understand him. If you're reading this and nodding your head, know that you're not alone. I've been there, and I understand.

The Escape into Addiction

By the time I was 13, I had discovered drugs, and with them came a profound sense of relief. For the first time, the constant turmoil in my mind calmed, and my body felt at ease. Addiction wasn't a choice; it was a response to the overwhelming discomfort of being me. Drugs offered an escape, a temporary break from the pain that had defined my life for so long.

But the relief was short-lived, and the cost was enormous. My life—if you could even call it that—spiraled into a cycle of crime, homelessness, and despair. I found myself in and out of jail, psychiatric wards, and rehab centers, clinging to the hope that something—anything—could save me from myself.

 The Hidden Struggle The Turning Point

November 17, 1994, marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I entered a rehabilitation centre desperate for change, and the 12-step programme became my lifeline. It offered structure and community in a life defined by chaos. For over two decades, I followed the programme faithfully, attending meetings and building a life that, on the surface, seemed successful.

But, beneath the surface, the same struggles persisted. My addiction had shifted from drugs to food, to relationships, to overworking — a relentless cycle of seeking peace in all the wrong places. Despite the external success, I was still haunted by the same internal turmoil that had driven me to addiction in the first place. This makes perfect sense as the 12 steps do not address trauma or our spiritual disconnection adequately.

As the years passed, I became consumed by a relentless search for answers I believed would finally bring me to peace and happiness. Recovery meetings provided a sense of structure, but they didn't touch the deep unease I felt within myself.

I turned to psychotherapy, believing that if I could understand my mind, I could heal it. My search became a full-time pursuit, leading me to train in multiple modalities, including psychodynamic therapy, cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), transactional analysis, person-centered counseling, Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP), and body and energy techniques. I was determined to find a solution, to understand and heal my mind, and I was willing to do whatever it took to achieve this. My determination to find a solution, no matter how long it took or how many approaches I tried, is a testament to the power of perseverance in the face of adversity. If a training, workshop, or method promised transformation, I signed up, hoping to find the missing piece of the puzzle.

But despite the extensive list of credentials I had accumulated, I remained depressed. Therapy sessions, both as a client and as a practitioner, just became another form of seeking – a way to intellectually dissect my problems without ever addressing the root causes. Even as I helped others navigate their struggles, I felt like a fraud, disconnected from the very peace I was trying to guide them toward.

Many of my friends and colleagues in the therapeutic world shared the same secret struggles. These individuals had spent their lives helping others, yet they even battled their own demons behind closed doors.

They confided in me about their hidden addictions – food, porn, shopping, gambling, excessive substance use, workaholism – all carefully concealed behind a professional facade. Their stories mirrored my own; outwardly, during periods of abstinence and qualification, we were seen as successful, accomplished, and even healed. But inwardly, we were still running, still seeking, still caught in the same cycles of pain and avoidance.

Lesson Learned

This phase of my life taught me an important lesson: intellectual understanding, no matter how vast, cannot touch the discomfort. No amount of therapy, training, or external treatment could fill the void I felt inside.

The more I sought answers outside of myself, the further I seemed to drift from the peace I longed for. I was spinning my wheels, rearranging the furniture in my mind, but the core issue – the unresolved pain and trauma and spiritual disconnection – remained unresolved.

And so the cycle continued: periods of temporary relief followed by the inevitable return of dissatisfaction. No matter how much I achieved or how many techniques I mastered, I couldn't escape the troubling sense that something was missing.

It wasn't until years later that I came to understand the truth: the very act of seeking kept me trapped. What I was looking for wasn't out there. It was, and had always been, within me.

This realization, however, was still a considerable distance away. For the time being, I remained caught in the endless pursuit of external solutions, blind to the truth that the answers I sought could not be found in the next training, meeting, or modality. I was looking everywhere except where it matters most: within.

Awakening to a Deeper Truth

The turning point didn't come from another programme or therapy, though I'd been through countless programmes and therapies. It went from a simple yet profound invitation to presence during an intensive workshop I attended. For the first time, I wasn't told what to do, how to fix myself, or why I was broken. Instead, I was invited to stop and look – to be here now.

At first, it made no sense to me, as I was frustrated and restless, questioning whether I was wasting my time. Over a couple of days, something shifted. It wasn't an intellectual realization or a step-by-step process. It was more like a quiet recognition, a moment of profound clarity. All the years I had spent trying to fix myself were built on the false belief that I was broken in the first place.

In that space of stillness, I started to realise that my addiction, my pain, and even my endless coping strategies weren't evidence of failure or inadequacy. They were my body and mind's way of keeping me safe – a survival mechanism responding to trauma and adversity. I wasn't broken; I had been brilliantly adaptive in ways I hadn't understood. This insight wasn't just a thought – it was something I felt deeply in my body, something that began to unravel the years of struggle I had carried.

I started to reflect more on the fact that proper recovery wasn't about fixing myself or reaching a destination of perfection. It was about reconnecting with the truth of who I am – a wholeness that had been there all along, hidden beneath layers of conditioning and coping mechanisms. This realisation marked the beginning of the Infinite Recovery Project, a movement born from my journey to freedom.

New Beginning

Today, my life is unrecognizable from the chaos of my past. The Infinite Recovery Project is not just a framework for healing addiction; it's an invitation to awaken to a more profound truth about who we are. It combines somatic healing, spiritual awakening, and psychological understanding to guide individuals toward a life of true peace and freedom.

My journey proves that, no matter how lost or deep the pain, there is a path to healing. That path doesn't lie in fixing yourself or following someone else's formula for recovery. It lies in rediscovering the wholeness and wisdom that have always been within you.

Why I Created the Infinite Recovery Project

I know what it feels like to be lost, trapped in cycles of addiction, trying everything but still suffering. Even after getting clean, I felt empty – like something was still missing.

Traditional recovery focuses on managing symptoms, but real healing comes from seeing beyond the illusion of brokenness. The Infinite Recovery Project exists because you don't need to fight forever. You're not broken, and freedom is already within you.

My Conclusion

For this article, I boiled it down to the exact day that changed the course of my life –  January 20, 1977, when I was just five years old, when I answered the door to learn the devastating news that my father had been killed in a tragic accident. 

Instead of that single pivotal moment, my life then was shaped by a series of key milestones, addictions shifting from food to drugs, to relationships, to overworking, and my continuous search for answers, and finally healing.

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Jason Shiers can be reached at jason4656@gmail.com. If you want to learn more about the Infinite Recovery Project (IRP), please visit  https://learning.infiniterecoveryproject.com/webinar/

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