Friendship

The path of friendship can be especially winding for an addict and at times morseo once in recovery. You see, we are told quite often that we have to change our “playmates, playgrounds and playthings,” meaning we must not simply return to life as normal while attempting to no longer drink, drug or act out. We must change our way of life along with our way of thinking and neither task is either easy or painless.

If our drug of choice is alcohol, we pretty obviously cannot regularly go hang out in bars and you typically find pretty quickly that the “friends” who accompanied your “good times” aren’t too interested in watching movies or going for a run. They may or may not have the same drinking problem you do, but your change in lifestyle requires the same of no one else. Some folks will stay and many folks will drift out of your life; they leave with no malice but they probably feel that they don’t really have much in common with you any longer.  

The parallels with any other manifested addiction are obvious – many of the people who partook with you probably won’t want to hang out with you after that partaking is out of the picture, and that is fine. It is their choice and there is little that can be done about it shy of using or acting out again, and then their reborn loyalty will not be enough to shield you from the inevitability of consequences.

You begin to make new friends who are both fellow recovering addicts and “normals.” It is a unique day indeed when you realize that you have an entire segment of friends that have never known you as an active addict. It can also be scary - those folks have only a limited appreciation of how far you have come and can often laugh off your “war stories” as hilarious hijinks more of a comedic nature than the blood and bone desperate sickness that it truly belies.

It can be hard to be close to many people. It is difficult to begin a new life as an adult and make a whole new set of friends. The beautiful thing about this new life is that we are no longer strictly self-seekers whose selfishness smothers our every good impulse. Much like in most of our sober undertakings, an addict makes a heckuva great and loyal friend. It is in our new nature to be of service, humbly grateful and to be rigorously honest.

It is an amazing gift for new people to be willing to become our friends in spite of our past. The gracious warmth of understanding, unconditional friendship is almost overwhelmingly good. It is humbling and means an untold amount to us. Most days I still cannot fathom what so many of my newest old friends see in me but they are truly among my life's greatest blessings. While they may not have known me as the self-destructive force of yesteryear, they might in fact know me as my truest self. I am not a lying, manipulating ball of self-loathing falsity. I am genuinely who I am, and I'm pretty okay with that today.

For those who were able to weather the storm of our insanity and remain our true friends in our sobriety the payoff in gratitude is unable to be quantified. You stuck by our side when we least deserved it and you will never truly know what that means. You saw us walk through the fire and come out transformed on the other side of our awakening.  Your willingness to stick with us is probably one of the fundamental things that made this all doable.

Humankind was meant to live in community. The addict is not different and like most things for us the need is probably magnified. Thanks to all the old and the new friends for being willing to walk this winding path beside us. We never know where it may go, but the fact that we aren't alone makes all the difference.

I Can't Go Back

Everyone in recovery, from that newcomer who picks up their 24-hour chip at a local AA meeting to the seasoned “Old Timer” with 20+ years of clean time has their moments of craving. I’ll grant you that they become less frequent over time, but for the addict they never completely disappear. There will always be the memory of the fun and the escape and sometimes that memory is enough to drown out the screams of logic that remind you of the days after, the legal fees and the shabby employment record. 

When we lose track of the things that brought us to the breaking point we can lose sight of how much different things have become. We forget the day-to-day, minute-to-minute misery of the spiritual malady we sought to cure with the main thing making it worse.

If I told you today that I never had fun drinking and drugging I would be lying, and lying isn't in my MO any longer. I have memories of some very fun misadventures and hilarious stories for days. I have my moments today of considering just how much fun it could be to drink or use again; some days it’s as though I can taste the whiskey and cocaine and it actually makes my heart beat a bit faster. The smallest segment of my consciousness tries to tell me that I could do it again.

Then the weight of everything that comes with picking up and acting out comes crashing down upon me. I remember once more just how sick I was- I hated myself and most everyone else nearly every waking minute. I had a laundry list of failings and hurts that were all your fault and I complained about them to anyone who would even act like they were listing. I became a terribly negative person and I was truly spiritually dead. I didn't really live for the moment as much as I lived for the buzz. I was grateful for nothing and resentful of everything. Envy, anger and guilt were my closest friends and were with me every moment.

I was empty. I had fun but I had no happiness.  I had friends but I had zero self-worth. As much fun as I might convince myself another drink or drug may be, the cost of returning to that old way of thinking and living is far too much to pay. I had no hope. I had no purpose. I had no joy and felt no love that could compare with that which I feel today. When viewed through that honest lens, the choice makes itself.

I am blessed to be living the life I’d always imagined and I do what I must today to stay here. That involves not picking up or acting out as well as paying specific attention to my gratitude, spirituality and mental and physical health. I must be of service to my fellows and I must do the next right thing every time I get the chance. When I am wrong or do wrong, I must admit it and set it right as soon as possible. I must be sure that I am not the center of my own universe and I must love others even when they are unlovable. If I do all of those things today, I may just make it.

I must do all of those things because I simply can’t go back to the way things were. 

Death and the Addict

Addiction and death are by no means an odd coupling. For so many of us, our path to this end is accelerated by our all-consuming addictions. While not a great mystery that everyone at all times is moving towards our eternal home, the trip can be greatly accelerated by the physical, mental and emotional destruction of unchecked active addiction.

For many active addicts death is the peace we tirelessly seek and never find. Many an active addict has longed for death while lacking the wherewithal to make it happen; we've sought death without ever fully opening the door to welcome it ourselves. There is shelter and comfort somewhere if we can just leave this life behind, because anything has to be better than living like this. We don’t want things to stay the same but we feel that we lack the strength to change.

Wading through the pain of death in our immediate circle often brings the wish that it had been us instead. We beg, plead and cajole with whatever is out there listening for things to somehow be different, for us to somehow switch places with the loved one lost. It is SO CLOSE; that rest from the weariness of self-loathing and abuse for which we long. We are tortured by wishes to share fates with the departed. We get so lost in the “what ifs” and “whys” that we never take the time to accept and make peace with what is.

We then settle into a more determined pattern of self-destruction under the guise of getting over it. Our coping mechanism is in reality a determined avoidance behind the mask of whatever buzz we can create. We tell ourselves that if we don’t think about it, it won’t be able to hurt us. We bury our heads in the sand and do our best to maintain the façade of “dealing with it the best way we know how” which, of course is to not deal with it at all.

At some point the walls come down and we grieve and attempt to process through things; predictably the active addict becomes mired in the abyss of use and abuse and the recovering addict does what it takes to avoid this at all costs. The drugs, drinking and behaviors are our go-to hiding place; we don’t develop the effective means of dealing with adversity because we run to our coping mechanisms and away from what we feel.

As with most everything, the key for the addict is acceptance (not resignation). We must accept that things are exactly as they are and as our program tells us, they are exactly as they should be. We must accept that we might not know why and that we don’t have to in order to accept what has happened. We must accept that life must move forward and that death is simply a part of life, regardless of the timing.

Every time we become aware of the death of another we are touched by memories, and if we choose to allow it haunted by regrets. Every ounce of our reaction to any of life’s happenings is a choice. We always have a choice. 

Raise Your Rock Bottom

Most (if not all) of the people who will read this post have an understanding of the addict’s rock bottom: the set of circumstances which signal the lowest a person is willing to go before they acknowledge that their life has to take a drastic turn. Most addicts have at least a vague awareness of the concept and may or may not have considered where it may be found in their own lives. For many it is lower than they or their loved ones can fathom and that fact will cost them dearly.

For some it is homelessness, while for others it is the utter alienation of friends and family. Poverty, disease and significant legal trouble could all fall into the category as well. As often as any of those individual circumstances may represent rock bottom, a combination of some or all of the above is often what it takes. Multiple trips to institutions (jail or rehab) may be what it takes or perhaps the loss of one too many jobs or family members to the disease.   

I believe that in many ways our bottom is a choice much the same as picking up, drinking or acting out. We often feel as though we have no choice, that our addiction has forced us into a corner and we are at the mercy of its whimsy. I believe that often we as addicts conveniently scapegoat our disease and at times give it far too much power in our lives once we have identified and are addressing it. If we are honest, how many of us in recovery now were totally blindsided by the fact that we had a real problem when we hit our bottom? I’d venture a solid guess that none of us were truly surprised by our addiction although we may have been surprised that it caught up with us the way it did.

The fact is that our bottom boils down to a simple line we've drawn that marks the point where life is too painful to remain the way it is. We draw that line and we can raise it. You have the power to raise your rock bottom by simply wanting more for yourself and more from this life. You have to become willing to admit that enough is enough before it becomes far too much. It shouldn't take multiple attempts although for nearly all of us that is part of our story. I myself made two half-hearted (at best) attempts to stop or "manage" my drinking and drugging with no sustained success.

In all honesty my rock-bottom was almost fortuitously high; I hadn't managed to destroy a marriage or family and I hadn't been to prison or killed anyone. I’d never been homeless and truly never went without for long at all. My mind was made up about the severity of my problem a few years before I decided to do something about it. I was willing to accept a sub-par existence because I never realized I was meant for more. I refused to love or value myself enough to raise my rock bottom.

If you find yourself wondering if you have a drinking, drugging, eating or behavioral problem the chances are solid that you do. ”Normal” people don’t sit around wondering if they are an addict and normal people don’t have others in their life that ask them the same question. Has your behavior caused you to lose more than it has ever benefited you? Do you have fun but rarely find yourself happy? Is escapism more your everyday M.O. than your vacation philosophy? In your own mind, is your life really worth living the way that it is?

Think about it and know for yourself with certainty on which side of the line you stand. Act accordingly. Value yourself enough to want more than existence - allow yourself to have a life. 

Starting Over From the Bottom

It’s fairly common knowledge that a person must hit his or her own ‘rock bottom’ before they can truly begin to take steps toward a life free from the obsession of addiction. What isn't so common is a real understanding of what it means to begin building a life again from the ground floor up. There are lots of repairs to be made before we can really start to make forward strides. A construction metaphor is almost too obvious here, but the parallels cannot be denied.

Foundation is key and that’s where we start. Twelve step programs begin with acceptance of the problem and acknowledging that there is some higher power to whom the problem must be turned over, as we have proven that we cannot handle it ourselves. Then the addict is caused to undertake a spiritual house cleaning and move forward with making amends to those harmed, which often requires a great deal of time and emotional energy (and probably money). All of these thoughts and actions can be likened to pouring or reinforcing the foundation of a house; this gets the accounts back out of the red, reconciles the past and enables us to look to the future.

Once we have squared all accounts, we must focus on growth and moving forward.  This life is a wonderful, breathing, moving thing but some constants must remain steady and we as addicts must remain anchored to them for our own sake. We must always seek to expand or deepen our spirituality in whatever form resonates with the individual. Spirituality and religion are not actually the same and cannot be universally lumped together though they may be the same for some individuals. We must not pick up or act out. We must not be dishonest or keep secrets. We must not give reason for any guilt, shame or remorse to creep into our lives. We must not harbor resentments, no matter how much the world tells us we are justified. We must always do the next right thing every chance we get. We must remain grateful.  

We must remain patient in our recovery, both early on and as we begin to have “a few twenty-four hours” under our belts. We didn't descend into the madness immediately upon the first drink, drug or “incident” and we cannot expect that the rest of the world will be immediately placed at our feet once we get truly clean and sober. It takes time and effort to rebuild a life that was once in a state of complete and total ruin. We have destroyed so much through our active addictions and we must humbly seek to rebuild our lives in due time, rather than our time and we must accept that fact and be at peace with it.

The practice of a regular and rigorous evaluation of our thoughts, words and actions is absolutely necessary; the more often, the better. This keeps the house clean. We must recognize our wrongdoings and quickly move towards apology and rectifying the situation. Once we have committed to the path of right living we cannot think that we will be successful if we go on autopilot.

Our lives will begin to be restored physically, spiritually, financially and relationally. Some things will happen quickly and others come more slowly. All will come to us in due course if we honestly and earnestly work for them.

We must also realize that some things may never again be restored- these can be relationships, wealth or status. We have to accept that. Those things are then just folded into the pages of our story as new chapters become written in the here and now. This is our new normal; our new life requires that we not dwell on what has been lost, but rather focus on all we have gained. It’s not easy, but it is always worth it.

I Can't Get No Satisfaction

The obsessive nature of the addict long outlives the active compulsion to indulge. This lives on in a few ways, particularly the manic drive towards some nebulous “thing” out in the great beyond. This “thing” is different for each of us, but we often become obsessed about striving for something more or greater in whatever ensnares us. While this type of drive can be productive to the point of being admirable, it often can be a case of burning to white-hot heat so fast that it consumes us and leaves our original intentions far behind.  

I've written before of the obsessive drive to make up for lost time or to prove something (anything) to someone (anyone). This post is more focused on a cautionary yet developmental dialogue on behaviors that can narrow this mentality from a broad and dangerous obsessive lifestyle to a laser-like instrument of self-improvement. After all, sobriety to me seems to be made up of a series of intentional attempts at turning negative experiences into positive behaviors.

To be driven towards achieving something without willingness to ever become satisfied seems at a glance to be insanity. After all, who in their right mind would drive towards a goal they never intend to allow themselves to reach? It’s self-defeating by the most conservative evaluation and self-destructive at its most extreme. However, it is feasible to rein in the obsession in a way that makes it extremely productive. This is a prime example of making our addictive nature work for us.

First you must turn the focus of your obsession to self-improvement. A recovery program, expanding your spiritual life and regaining physical well-being are examples of healthy self-improvement. You must begin in earnest and take great care to not be consumed completely by your pursuits. Collective pursuit may be a way of finding a healthy balance, but finding balance is a challenge for any person whether addict or “normie.” Imbalance is an addicts' calling card, so finding the ability to pay attention to multiple things with each in moderation is like balancing a sledgehammer on your index finger.

Being patient with and kind towards yourself while making these sweeping changes is a vital challenge. There’s a way to be content in the fact that you are progressing without settling but it is a tricky tightrope act. Having measurable and attainable goals will help and it is key to have a mentor/sponsor-type figure to help give you an outside perspective that you respect in order to hold you in check.

Even in my years of active addiction, I could recognize and leverage my obsessive addictive tendencies into successful efforts within certain areas of my life. You have to accept, understand and appreciate that this is a part of who you are and that it can be used for good if you respect it and treat it much the same as you would a highly-combustible substance. Use care when handling and don’t “get any on you.”

The Promises of Recovery

Most anyone who has visited the rooms of twelve step meetings have at least heard of “the promises,” a literary work taken from an outline of the Twelve Steps that in a general way lists occurrences for which those people who faithfully pursue real recovery can have a renewed hope. Simply stated, we can and often will regain most of the truly good things we lost in the days of our active addiction provided we humbly and earnestly pursue the path laid before us.

The timetable for the fulfillment of these promises is usually vastly different than the one we would choose for ourselves, and with good reason. As with most any character trait found in “normies,” impatience is magnified by power of ten (or greater) in addicts; if that impatience were indulged it would be harmful to our sobriety and ultimately our very lives. The slow, measured pace of the great life rebuild we must undergo serves to increase our gratitude and by extension our serenity as we experience the process. Nothing worth having comes easily or quickly.

Imagine the harm of having all of the good things we wasted away during our active addiction laid immediately at our feet after we pick up our 30-day chip. How would we react? It is both safe and fair to assume that we would soon fall back into our old ways of thinking and living and would once again stand to lose everything, which in relapse can often mean our very lives. If it were that simple and easy to repair the years of damage wrought by our selfishness and self-centeredness, we’d most often be found turning quickly back to that way of thinking.

The struggle to gain by honesty and humility those things lost in the maelstrom of addiction is inherently valuable. That we must make that effort is the greatest gift bestowed upon us by our recovery. We learn for the first time the true worth of things (including ourselves) when we come to understand both how they are lost and how they are found. We begin the grasp the depth, width and breadth of our own value through this course of action and emerge from it re-forged by the trial.

No one has ever accurately claimed sobriety for the addict would be easy, but anyone who has truly lived it will attest to the fact that it is more than worth it. There is no shortcut to genuine happiness, no helicopter ride to the top of the mountain or cheat code to skip to the end of the game. That serenity and joy must be gained rightly if it is ever to be kept.

There is truth in the statement that even our worst days sober are better than our best days in active addiction. What makes that statement true? The fact that our days in true sobriety are lived fully, honestly and with our undivided, unabated attention and mental presence. When we are doing it correctly we are right here, right now and there is no place else we would rather be.