In 1989, September was named National Recovery Month, and SAMHSA (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration) holds events all month, as do state Depts of Drug and Alcohol Services. I am one of more than 21 million Americans in recovery from alcohol or substance use disorder. Substance Use Disorder does not just touch one segment of the population—addiction touches the lives of literally every socioeconomic class. This year, I trained to become a CRS, or a Certified Recovery Specialist, which is like a peer specialist for those seeking recovery. I have over 13 years of recovery from alcohol use disorder and I have been wanting to do a new series about recovery. I hope to do it maybe once a month called Recovery for the Masses.
What does that mean?
It means that I talk about what recovery from alcohol or substance use disorder is all about. We often talk about how everyone in the world should do the kind of work those of us in recovery do. I don’t think many people outside of our community realize the daily work we do just to stay sober or clean or abstinent from our addiction, whether that be alcohol or drugs or sex or gambling or food or pornography or whatever can be used to avoid feelings. I personally think my first addiction, and my hardest addiction, is work. I literally have times in my life where I have thought about work 24/7, obsessed about it, worked until I forgot to pee, eat, sleep, take care of my body. Addiction is addiction is addiction.
Addiction is often defined specifically in relation to how someone uses the substance. People with addiction use substances or engage in behaviors that become compulsive and usually continue despite harmful consequences. Read that again, DESPITE harmful consequences. Why? Because the effect of numbing out is better than raw dogging life. (Hey, I’ve been out here in the world raw dogging life for 13 + years now, and I can tell you it is hard work, people.)
So what is this first Recovery for the Masses episode like? It is a lot of disparate thoughts about recovery and addiction and learning how to feel again. I think I just opened my brain and let it flow. But upcoming episodes will be more succinct and thoughtful and follow a more linear pathway. I talk about how lucky I am to be an alcoholic.
By lucky, I mean this seriously and also provokingly, because alcoholism took me to my brink, to a place I had never been before—praying for death because the suffering was so desolate. And yet, I didn’t know it was alcohol that took me there. I was just suffering. I wanted to die. And the outward appearance of my life looked together, beautiful, and truly was everything I had ever wanted. But I couldn’t feel joy or gratitude. I was in a loop of suffering, and I couldn’t get drunk enough or sober enough. And so one day, I called the A.A. helpline and talked to another alcoholic, asking if they thought I was alcoholic. But she couldn’t answer that. We can only answer that question for ourselves.
Okay, I know it is not cool to quote J.K. Rowling, but I love this quote, "Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life." As Anne Lamott further goes on to talk about rock bottom, “There’s freedom in hitting bottom, in seeing that you won’t be able to save or rescue your daughter, her spouse, his parents, or your career, relief in admitting you’ve reached the place of great unknowing. This is where restoration can begin.”
We all hit rock bottoms in life. Maybe it is losing your job or breaking up with a partner or it is just that recognition that your life doesn’t bring you joy. Maybe it is realizing your hypervigilance might be from trauma. Or maybe your parents were alcoholic or drug addicted people or just emotionally immature. In the end, I think we all relate to rock bottom and facing that crossroads of—I have to change and that pathway is dark and I have no idea what it means for the rest of my life, or I can stay the same and if I stay in the same place, I get the same thing. Nothing changes if nothing changes. The choice is mine right now. I know for me and my drinking, I chose the latter until I just felt like that choice was death to a part of me that was curious, awe-struck, joyful, honest, kind…it is painful to share that, but that is where I was.
So desperation brought me to recovery. Not a desire to quit drinking, but a desire to stop my own suffering. If I could do that and have a glass of wine, I totally would. That isn’t in my cards. I come from a long line of drunken storytellers and comedians who turn into absent parents and mean drunks. I am recovering from alcoholism, but I am also an adult child and grandchild of an alcoholic parent and grandparents. I am recovering from them. I hit bottom in my own way. And sought recovery. Recovery brought me spiritual work, a community, gratitude, love, creativity, honesty, integrity…As Anne Lamott says, “...being sober delivered almost everything drinking promised.”
And in the end, you are here because recovery from alcoholism allowed me to pursue healing work because I sought healing work. I couldn’t get sober and not heal the other stuff. And in seeking healing, I found this part of me that had always been there—highly sensitive, intuitive, empathic and ready to be of service to other people.
Hopefully, though, this series transcends alcohol and substance use disorder and recovery. My intention is to transcend it, and bring you into the recovery part of life and open it up to everyone who is suffering from being human.
Love,
