Learning that I was addicted to my own adrenaline was a key moment in my recovery from workaholism. I used to think that adrenaline addiction could only apply to me if I were a compulsive participant in dangerous sports or daredevilish activities.
Trust me, you will never find me jumping out of a plane or motorcycle racing. The adrenaline rushes that ruled my life, and the ones that I still must be on active alert about, are the rushes that come when I jump into yet one more project or try to barrel through two hundred emails in a few hours.
I'm most at risk of a "lapse" or "relapse" into heightened overworking when I start feeling buzzed about having an extra-long to-do list. Extreme work or life pressure is no longer my fix for my adrenaline addiction; it's an indicator that I need to slow the hell down.
If I don't, the adrenaline rushes will destroy more than my serenity; they will destroy my health. Trading out adrenaline seeking and calling in serenity seeking will be a lifelong journey for me.
But my life will be longer for it. Some of us get more kicks from contentment than thrill seeking.