The idea of addiction used to baffle me

I remember reading, around age twelve, a book about lust and addiction, and I remember wondering how someone could possibly become "addicted" to MO. Isn't a person's hand under his control? How could his hand do something he doesn't want it to do?

Over the years I came to understand the force of addiction all too well. It's like the antagonist, what's-his-name, in the show Jessica Jones, who just moves people to will what he wills. I want to believe that the deepest, truest part of me, the "real" me, wants freedom and self-discipline—but there's this other part of me that doesn't. And that part tends to win out in moments of weakness. I do what I hate, and I hate myself for doing it.

Obviously, addiction is irrational. So I guess part of overcoming an addiction is becoming more rational—recognizing your "end," your goal (a good happy flourishing human life, and ultimately, I believe, union with God in eternal life) and then choosing the right means to achieve that goal and executing them with consistency and fortitude. I'm not sure I have it in me to become rational, but I'm asking for help—from God, from friends, and from you all.