The brain is so resistant to change. It's resistant even when change is good for you- even when it's absolutely essential; even when your bad habits and trains of thought are eating away at your insides, even when they're leaving you scratching at skin in the middle of the night trying to reach an invisible itch at the core of your bones, and you know you need to stop- even then, the brain fights back.
The brain likes habits, the patterns of thought it has long since gotten used to following, habits like pre-programmed codes that are easy, that are comfortable, because who cares if it causes the system to crash and burn periodically, digging through it all trying to fix it is only going to break it even more before it fixes it- and it just doesn't want to rip its backbone down to build it back up, piece by piece, cell by cell.
But god you have to, you got to. So you rip the bandages off, your knuckles are white from bending broken bones back into place, you rewire the neurons that fire all backwards and sideways, you're burning your fingertips off in the dark for the best, to be better. You tell yourself it's worth it, it's worth it. Look into my eyes, tell me it's worth it.
I don't know what else I can say. Sometimes changing feels the worst but oh god. Sometimes it's the only way.