Time and time again, I find that the age-old adage you can only keep what you have by freely
giving it away applies to my life in recovery. Any of my long-time readers
know that one of my favorite ways to stay sober, is by bringing meetings to
places where people are fresh in from the cold, dark world of alcoholism and
addiction. On even rarer occasions, I am asked to share my story. It had been a
while since the last time I spoke to a group of people for more than a few
minutes, and I wasn’t really sure how long I could go, but the God of my
understanding spoke volumes through me to reach those in need of the message of
hope.
Amanda had never seen me in my element. But last week (two
weeks ago by the time this goes live) she and the girls came with me to an intensive outpatient treatment facility with sober living in Paynesville, MN where there was a crowd
waiting for us. There is child care available for patients and families who
come visit their loved ones during this process at the Recovery Center. The girls were
just a couple rooms away playing with Barbie dolls and watching movies while I
began to tell it like it was before I found the solution. I started at the
beginning with my first drink at 13, and walked them through my life as a
criminal and addict until my release from prison. Then I shared my hope with
them. I told them that everybody has the same opportunity to achieve what I
have, to gain the basic rights of life that I have attained, and to find love
and be loved; a concept unfamiliar to
many in suffering.
We were there on family night, and Amanda sat by my side as
I shared mine, and even some of her story with the patients, and some of their
loved ones. They asked questions, and engaged in conversation which is
something I found unique for treatment. There is a happy vibe there that I
cannot recall ever feeling in any of my stints in treatment. The director, with
whom I have had many conversations in person and on the phone makes clear that
compassion is key to finding the root of the problem which actually isn’t drugs
or alcohol: those are just a mask.
What I can never get over is how I feel after I leave a meeting like this. I floated away and smiled
the entire hour-long drive back home. I reflected on the smiles and the
laughter, and remembered that I spoke about how important it is to have fun in recovery.
It is possible! Life begins at day one of sobriety, and I know that the first
laugh can bring out a flood of other emotions like I wrote about in the first
few pages of the original
posts., which we, of course, turned into an insert
shameless link here. But, emotions are good. They are vital to finding contentment,
and without sadness, devastation, and pain, we in recovery cannot truly know what it feels
like to be happy.
Time and time again I find that the more of myself I give to
others like me, the more I feel like myself, and the more useful I am to those
around me in my everyday life. Recovery is not about sitting in smoky rooms
with grumpy old people anymore. These days people are going out on adventures,
attending conventions with tens of thousands of sober people, going to sporting
events, and literally anything we used to do while we were using, just without
chemicals. And we have a blast doing it because our laughter is real. It’s not
motivated by fear or anxiety (well maybe sometimes awkward anxiety) or anger. Smiles
are brighter. Amusement is louder. Agony is a memory.
I want to find a way to make this opportunity more frequent.
I enjoy the work I do with food, and I make good money and have great benefits.
But I don’t beam and feel elated when I leave work. And I know that I’m not
being the most useful to society in my current role. Maybe one day I can share
my hope every day. Maybe I can make a bigger difference.
I can.
