I suppose I have taken a break from writing. I’ve been busy dying, growing and rediscovering life again – funny how that happens cohesively in our program and in our lives with God. I have to be pushed to my knees sometimes.
Since I last posted a blog, I have watched my father take his vows and discover a sense of peace and love like I have never seen or been able to see. I welcomed a new mother into my life. I got an acceptance letter from the University of Texas to start school in the fall and finally finish the degree I’ve been fighting eight years to receive – the degree I know I don’t need any more to be okay, because it doesn’t define me. I have discovered I love my job, after all. Needless to say, it took a lot of Inventory to get there! Turns out I am still the problem. I have cried and laughed and made new friends and cherished old ones. I have taken two doses of Chantix – hell, I might even quit smoking!
The most miraculous thing of all, though, I celebrated one year of sobriety. When I think of all the things I have been able to accomplish in the past year and how my life has grown and changed, I realize that I finally have all the things I have fought so long to create in my life and to no avail. All I wanted was to be able to live the life I saw other people living. I couldn’t understand how I wasn’t able to have that. And I had resigned myself to the fact that it just wasn’t for me, that I was destined to die alone with a needle in my arm or, worse, to have to live the rest of my life showing up at the methadone clinic every morning at 5AM with my mom footing the bills. I really believed that there was no other option for me.
Over a year ago, I really had decided to give up. I checked into a treatment center (a different one) because I had no place else to go. Not because I wanted to get better – I didn’t believe I could. Why would I? I needed a place to sleep and breathe and be safe. I knew how to be in a treatment center. I’d done it countless times. I was telling a friend of mine the other night, all I wanted to do when my 30 days were up there was to get to the sober house and start making some money and live my life. I wanted to meet that guy – the one I could waste away and die with. But something in my heart told me to do an insane thing and ask for more help and more time. I didn’t want to go away for three more months (much less four). But God had another plan, and I am forever grateful.
The right people and the right place and the right moment – it was all handed to me when I humbly asked for it. God knew better than I ever did. All the blessings I have been given, I cannot even explain them. I’ve never been able to feel my way through life – I always thought the purpose was to avoid that. Experience God. Give back. Know that moment when I am talking to another addict, and I am explaining the pain and tragedy of this disease and the power of this solution. And it’s so strong, I well up with tears, and I want to cry. That’s the stuff this Program is made of. Sisterhood. Family. Community. Community – our first gathering at Club 101 on Cameron Road and the knowing that we will remember that room forever, the way I remember that room downstairs on the hill where I sat in Circle and a woman first told me the truth. What a legacy to be a part of. What an honor to get to be a part of that. I owe this amazing life to BRC Recovery and that place on the lawn behind our little house where I found God.