I saw this postcard on www.postsecret.com this morning and had to smile. This was me 15 years ago (except I can’t play the guitar). When I was active in my addiction I had a sneaking suspicion that I was crazy. In fact when I went into rehab, I insisted that the diagnosis for my admission be “depression”, not “chemical addiction”. So there I sat, in a lock down unit with a group of severely depressed souls, staring at each other in group sessions, dabbing our eyes with Kleenex, and shuffling back to our rooms. Meanwhile down the hall, the substance abuse people were having their groups…..I’d hear laughter, tears, spirited participation and see little friendships forming. (We are not a glum lot). That was my first “attraction” to a program of recovery, and I hadn’t even made it into the rooms yet.
I asked to be moved to the substance abuse unit. I figured if I was gonna be there for 30 days I might as well hang out with the fun folks instead of the zombies. I was relieved to be out of the whack job unit, but still a little worried about my “crazy” problem. I mean, I had been living a life that was unimaginable (even to ME…and I was the one living it!)
A couple times a week they would load us up in a van and take us to 12 step meetings; and other times program panels would come in and tell their stories. It was in those meetings and listening to those panels that I got my first glimmer of hope. I began to learn that “in our addiction we courted fatal disease, degradation, exploitation, impoverishment, and death by violence, even death by sheer stupidity.” Insanity? Yes. But did that mean I was crazy? No. That meant I was a practicing addict.
It was such a relief to identify with other alcoholics and addicts and learn that I wasn’t crazy. More importantly, I learned that there is a solution. It is a solution for “clearing away the wreckage of the past” (and there was plenty) and starting to build a new life based on this “Fellowship of the Spirit”.
Today I still have crazy thoughts and impulses. They keep life interesting. I just trudge along ……..life is so complex. I don’t think I’d want it any other way.
He had found God -- and in finding God had found himself. Pg 158 Big Book Alcoholics Anonymous
