I have, for some time now, openly admitted, blogged about, and discussed that I am an addict. That I was addicted to pills, cocaine and heroin. I have stated with great pride about the ways in which I became sober and have remained sober for over two years. However, what I have never done is discussed my addiction, and I do not see any need to go into the details surrounding it. Reading about others habits is often the forefront of triggering another person to spiral into their own darkness and that is the last thing I want to do. When I mentioned a couple weeks ago that I was going to take my recovery to the next level, going through the addiction recovery program written and sponsored by my church, the Gru of all things blog sent me an email. I am pretty sure he sent me the email before I had even pushed publish, it was that fast. The Gru wanted to know if I would blog my way through the program. I did not reply for a couple of days and when I finally did I told the Gru I would do it but with conditions. I would always write from my heart, I would not write for an audience I would write for me and share it with an audience as this is my journey. I also said that there was no way I could keep my faith out of my writing. I share this conversation with you to simply say, this writing is for me, I am honored to share it with you, and although I will not preach, but because this is about my experience it will undoubtedly contain a great deal of reference to the spiritual components of my recovery.
Four years ago this month I entered the world of drugs. I had already been on again off again abusing prescription medication, yet I took it to the next level. I started with pot, yes I know of the whole debate regarding pot and this isn't what I am saying. One evening in mid September I had taken way too many pills, I was angry and raging, and the sheriff ended up at my house. I felt that I was above reproach. I challenged them, in a method similar to what my seven year old challenges me. It was kind of like I dare you to take me in, I dare you to find my pot, I dare you to ticket me. Want to guess who lost this battle of wills, it wasn't the men with badges. My pot was found, my pills were confiscated, I was taken in for a psych eval and some time to detox, and I was ticketed. My life was out of control. While I was locked up my ex husband and his mom gained custody of my older two children and I was so angry. I hated him, I hated myself, I hated everything and everyone. I had a chip on my shoulder that paralleled the likes of any chip I had ever known. However, instead of trying to right my wrongs, instead of trying to get help, I challenged the world! I was starving and not in the hunger sense, but I was starving my voids were great and I needed them filled. I was going to show everyone I was going to shock them all. September 29, 2011 I found my drug, cocaine.
September is such a hard month for me four of my six kids have birthdays this month. As each birthday roles around I can't help feel the guilt of the choices I made, but I also can't help but feel a deep sorrow coupled with an immense depth of gratitude that I am still here, that my babies are the amazing kids that they are. Four days after my now nearly 13 year old daughter's birthday I lost custody of her and her brother for six months, I found cocaine, and her birthday decorations were still hung all over my house. To this day, if you were to come into my kitchen, and look up at my ceiling, there are 3 small pieces of streamers still pinned up there. I keep them there as a reminder to me. (Everyone else thinks I am too short to reach them that's why they are there) It is a reminder of what I lost, of what I gained, and of the journey I refuse to ever take again.
However, tonight I sit here computer open, all six of my kids asleep in their own beds, in our home, with not a worry of will mom be here in the morning, not a worry of what is mom doing so long in the bathroom, when now I'm truthfully hiding from them for a moment of piece. They are able to worry about kid things, what should I wear to school tomorrow, how do I do whatever it is they do on minecraft, how do I sneak the last piece of gum out of my brother's cubby. They get to dream about our upcoming beach trip, they get to plan for Halloween, they get to be kids. Four years ago I wasn't certain I wanted to live to see another day, I wasn't certain my family would ever be whole again, and I wasn't certain that I would ever have another day of my life sober.
This September has been different than those hard Septembers of years past. This September is full of hope, of peace, of happiness, joy, and a completeness I have always longed for. It is no coincidence that Brother Pratt spoke of the addiction recovery videos, during his testimony, the 1st Sunday of September. There was no coincidence that I met with the couple that oversees the addiction recovery program and that I attended my 1st meeting all in September. I did not plan it, in fact I had no idea I would do this. Yet, as I type this out, I am reminded once again of the tender mercies on my life. On the perfect timing of things as of late, there was no coincidence that this most difficult month for me, the month I 1st found drugs, the month my world spun even more out of control, would also be the month I reach out and finish my journey into addiction recovery.
Yep, that last paragraph makes it sound all flowery and wonderful. And although I am very grateful for the timing and the significance of what it means to me personally does not go unnoticed I can not say that it has been something I jumped into with boldness and eagerness and excitement. Last Tuesday as I sat in the living room of the couple leading the program, my amazing friend on one side of me, and the couple across from me, I thought there is no way I can get these words out. Quick where is my computer screen maybe I can just type this to them and we can get back together another day. But, I dug deep. I shared with them that I had been clean over 2 years but that is as far as my sobriety went. I shared with them that the temporal reality of addiction is scary and I need to work through all that I have run from I want to not only say I have been clean x amount of time I want to say I have recovered. I shared with Gina and the Laytons my hearts desire to break the chains of addiction that ripped not only my childhood apart but those of many generations before me. I vowed my children would never know an ounce of pain from having an addict parent, an unstable home, and carrying the shame that comes from both. I do not want my kids, at 38, sitting on someone's couch trying to fix their broken. When Brother Layton handed me the addiction recovery book he asked if I was intimidated by the meetings. No sir the meetings aren't what intimidate me it is this book right here, the one you handed me, the one I have to read through, answer questions about, it's the contents of this book that are going to make me feel, deal, heal. It is the fact that I worry am I strong enough, can I handle this, am I ready? It is the feelings of what if I trigger myself? Can I do this? Should I do this? I've got a good handle on life right now maybe I should just stay where I'm at. We talked some more, Gina and I left, and as we were driving away she said I bet you are blogging about tonight in your head. My answer was curt, "No I am not blogging about this." What I really wanted to say was screw all of this there is no way I am doing this forget I thought about this everyone leave me alone. Later that evening, I am texting another friend about the meeting, Stacy, the one whose testimony of faith brought me into the church, and our conversation got ugly fast. On my end as always, not hers. Wednesday morning as I looked at those text messages wondering what went wrong, it was a face palm moment, the reality of how scared I was about the unknown, and typical fashion for me I was going to shove those that truly were here to walk me through it right on out of my life.
From the time we left the Layton's home until my 1st meeting was exactly a week. I fought with myself all week. I wasn't going! Nope, I can't do this. I don't want to do this. I am not doing this. I had posted on my facebook that this addiction recovery was the single most hardest (yes I know nice grammar) thing I had ever done, and with that I had people I barely know asking if it would help me if they did the book along side me, so they could understand so they knew. I am a proud person, show me an addict that isn't, letting go of my pride through this program is going to feel like a part of me dies, and I began to regret my openness. But, as those moments of regret appeared I remembered why I was so open, I never want anyone to feel as alone as I felt. I had people around me, I had an amazing husband that stood by my side, I had an amazing friend, Robin, that cared enough to sign the papers to petition me for help and never walked away, yet I had no one that had "been there done that" there was no one that could show me the light at the end of the tunnel. This recovery is about me, it is about breaking those chains for my precious kids, and it is also about letting people know you are not alone, I GET IT!
However, as the day of the meeting dawned there was no way I was doing this. NO WAY! All those fears of what if, the unknown, the unexpected, the I didn't get to plan this out moments crept up. Gina knew this would happen, she was giving up her entire evening to drive me, to make sure I went! She was willing to sit in the parking lot no matter how long the meeting took. Yet, all day I kept giving her an out, I kept telling her she didn't have to, I kept telling her I got this, I kept hoping she would say ok I'll stay home so then I could stay home. I had a laundry list of excuses as to why I would stay home and I would make them valid and legit and justified, I couldn't do this. She didn't bite. She was there to take me to the meeting. As I climbed into her van I said I couldn't do all of step 1. I read it, but the questions I have to think about. She listened we changed the subject we laughed, we were serious, we talked about our kids, our husbands, Mexico, she knew I didn't want to talk about this meeting. She handed me this cute big blue eyed purple monkey, she said here, take this into the meeting with you. I can't go in, but know I am with you. Seriously, four months ago, I knew none of these people, yet quickly I have developed deep and real friendships like this one. As we neared the church I wasn't sure I would do it, as we pulled into the parking lot I was even less sure I would do it. My reasoning isn't because I don't want to truly work the steps and be an addict in recovery, my reasoning is plain and simple fear, fear of so much. The clock in her van was quickly approaching 6 and I knew I had no choice. Gina prayed and I went in. A room full of strangers in a ward I don't attend in a building I had never crossed the threshold to, yet I went, I sat.
The facilitator explained they were on step six and asked if I was okay with them continuing on from there or if I wanted them to go back to step one. I was fully prepared to pick up wherever they were for the meetings and work through the book on my own time at my own pace, not even one step at a time, but as the saying in the church goes precept by precept, I was going to do question by question building on each one, only moving forward when I am ready. I told her carry on. I am so glad I did. It was the assurance and reassurance that I needed. It was Heavenly Fathers way of calming my spirit of reminding me His timing is perfect and that He is omnipresent and all knowing. There is so much for step six I could sit here and share with you about what it meant to me yesterday, but I will save sharing step six until I personally get there to work through it. Although I will share the part that brought peace and confidence to me.
"As time passed, though, we noticed that abstinence seemed to make our character weaknesses more visible, especially to ourselves. We tried to control our negative thoughts and feelings, but they continued to reappear, haunting us and threatening our new lives of abstinence and church activity. Those who understood the spiritual implications of recovery urged us to recognize that while all the outward changes in our lives were wonderful, the Lord wanted to bless us even more. Our friends helped us see that if we wanted not only to avoid our addictions but actually lose the desire to return to them, we had to experience a change of heart..."How" you may cry. "How can I even begin to accomplish such a change?" Do not be discouraged by these feelings..."
I can not even really begin to describe what reading that felt like. Seeing on paper what I have felt since May 16, 2013 when I walked away from cocaine, heroin, and pills. Knowing that how I feel was completely validated in that paragraph. Will this be easy? Absolutely not! Will I want to quit? Of course! But, what I do know is that I have searched for this, longed for this, needed this, well before I made the choice to use pills, cocaine, and heroin. This is so much more than stamping finished on my addiction chapter, this is about digging within me, fixing the broken. Your circle of friends might be different than mine, your journey most definitely is different from mine, but as I share with you my heart in the weeks to come, I pray you find peace, comfort, and strength from my journey. I hit my wall, I laid at rock bottom, and I had very little desire to climb out. Your time may not be now, but do not ever believe it isn't possible, when you are ready, you will know. I am ready, this I know!
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