I was supposed to be dead. God pulled me out of the gutter – Misiek Koterski

Koterski adopted this protocol directly from Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson, whom he saw in an interview. Johnson described falling into chronic stress and depression because his phone constantly made him feel inadequate—someone else always had more, or was doing better. His solution was this 5-minute morning ritual of deep breathing to center himself on his own worth and existence, rather than on metrics and comparisons from the online world. Koterski was so struck by this that he immediately implemented it, framing it as a crucial step in his own digital detox after his Instagram was banned. He expanded this into a family rule: no phones at meals with his son, using toys and conversation instead.

Koterski uses this protocol before every public appearance. He possesses an image of Our Lady of Pompeii sent from Medjugorje, and he prays the rosary before events. His prayer is an admission that he feels entirely unsuited for the task and has been thrust into it by God, and therefore the responsibility for the outcome should be God's, not his. This surrender allows him to speak without defensiveness or pretense. He uses the metaphor of the matchbox: a single match is easily broken, but a whole box is unbreakable. This represents the strength he finds in unity with a higher power or a community, rather than trying to shoulder everything alone.

Koterski challenges the cultural and sometimes religious mantra of 'do not fear' ('nie lękajcie się'). He argues this has been dangerously misinterpreted as 'do not feel fear,' which is as impossible as telling someone 'do not urinate.' He posits that the true meaning is 'do not hide your fear—speak about it.' He believes there are no 'bad' emotions, only bad ways of dealing with them. He uses the classroom analogy: if a teacher simply told a student at the blackboard, 'I know you're terrified, it's completely normal, take a deep breath,' the student would be supported. Instead, the system teaches children to be ashamed of their natural feelings, creating a lifelong pattern of suppression. He applies this immediately by telling the host he was scared to come on the show, thereby disarming the anxiety.

Koterski elaborates on the addiction-specific saying 'the sum of addictions must be equal.' He explains that by the time he was using heavily, the substances themselves no longer provided a high; the thrill came from the dangerous, deceptive lifestyle surrounding their use—constantly lying, hiding, operating on high alert. When this is taken away, the nervous system still craves that level of stimulation. He observed that many recovering addicts become angry tyrants ('dry alcoholics') because they simply stop drinking but do not deal with the underlying vacuum. His solution was a 'daily medicine' of meetings (support groups), therapy, spirituality, and his demanding acting career, which provides a healthy 'stage high.' He specifically finds solitude and peace at Medjugorje, a place so 'boring' it forces him to sit with himself without distraction, which he describes as a healing alternative to 'colorful balloons' (partying/dating) that eventually deflate and leave the original problem magnified.

Koterski's split from his wife was amicable but devastating for their young son, Fryderyk. When they told him, the boy's coping mechanism was to push the information away. Koterski read a crucial article by the daughter of a closed-ward therapist who described how her parents (one a therapist) completely neglected her emotional state during their divorce, leading her to drink before school at age 16. This terrified him. He realized that even 'functional' divorces are traumatic and adults often assume an 8-year-old 'doesn't understand' when they absorb everything. He and his ex-wife agreed that 'dad must be wonderful, mom must be wonderful' in the child's eyes. He proudly reports that Fryderyk recently wrote that his dad is an 'angel'—a direct result, he feels, of this strict no-conflict policy. They also placed him in therapeutic play sessions for about eight sessions until the boy asked, 'Why am I actually coming here?', signaling he had integrated the change.

He used to engage in heated online arguments (being known as a master of sharp retorts), but realized this only escalated conflicts indefinitely. The turning point came when he responded to a particularly vicious message by acknowledging the sender's evident pain. Instead of fighting back, he wrote that he was sorry this stranger was suffering so much that he felt compelled to attack someone he didn't know. He offered to pray for him. A week or two later, the young man apologized, admitting he never thought his message would be read and that he was going through a terrible time. They now have a friendly relationship on Instagram. Koterski sees this as proof that only profound inner pain drives a person to such unprovoked aggression, a perspective deepened by his work with addicts at his clinic. He now believes that a well-adjusted person simply wouldn't have the need to lash out with that level of hatred.

Koterski participated in a Canal+ documentary where he was placed in a real prison in Bartoszyce, living among inmates convicted of serious crimes. While he knew some of them from his past and thus had a relatively 'easy' time socially, he found the actual lockdown—the moment the cell door closed and he was left alone—suffocating. This physical imprisonment triggered an epiphany: his life outside was a prison, too. He was trapped in a marriage that was merely 'correct' and comfortable but lacked genuine love and partnership. The crucial difference was that he was holding the key. The prisoners had no choice; he did. This vision gave him the courage to finally have the difficult conversation with his wife, leading to their mutual, peaceful separation. The experience became a central lesson he now shares: life is too short to remain in a situation you can walk away from.

After three days of intense anxiety and constant efforts to recover the account, Koterski experienced a 'detox.' He suddenly noticed the smell of the air and began to truly observe his surroundings. In a luxury hotel spa in Kraków, he realized he was the only person not glued to a phone. This observation was reinforced when he attended an event for the homeless—people with nothing, no phones, no material wealth. He sat down for a meal with them and had genuine, present conversations, receiving a handmade rosary that became his most treasured possession. He connected this experience to two celebrity interviews: Pitbull revealing his phone case shows the bitten apple (the original sin), and Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson describing how his phone drove him into chronic depression by forcing constant comparisons. From this, he created new household rules: no phones at the table with his son and starting the day with deep breathing, not a screen.

He contrasts his authentic, imperfect self with the persona he used to be—a people-pleasing celebrity living a lie. He emphasizes that his most viral moments are simply things he said about his own life, which people found meaningful. He explicitly rejects the label of an expert, professor, or doctor. This creates a paradox: the more he is placed on a pedestal, the heavier the burden, because he knows he is just a 'normal guy' dealing with the same daily struggles as everyone else (waking a child, getting to breakfast on time). His pre-show ritual is to kneel and pray, admitting he is not suited for the task and asking God to take over. This complete surrender and honesty, he believes, is what truly connects with people, far more than any formula for happiness.