So I started home detention today. That’s what they actually call it. Though, some friends chided me and said “You know, it’s called house arrest. Stop trying to sugar coat it!” For once, I’m not minimizing or rationalizing. They call it home detention. Honest!
As I talk to people who aren’t “on paper” or haven’t been through the system and explain the process to them — pre-arranging time outside of the house, keeping written receipts/logs of all such activity for proof, stripping my phone service of all the bells and whistles like voicemail, call forwarding, etc. — I invariably get the reaction, “Well that’s a pain in the butt” or “that’s a lot of work.” My reaction – given the alternative of being in a cold jail cell…I’ll take it!
It’s all relative.
Plus, after all, this is my own doing – nobody else to blame. The system isn’t out to get me, to screw me, etc. I let myself get too confident about my ability to cope with things on my own — and lapsed in my recovery. Full stop. My doing. My consequences. 67 days, I’m grateful I’ve learned some valuable lessons this time.
The meeting I went to tonight and several over the past week have reminded me as well that this is not a game. This is a fatal disease. It’s progressive, chronic…and fatal.
Most of us don’t make it.
As my first sponsor told me one time – not many of us, most of us.
This is all VERY real.
Tonight, a woman shared that her “sobriety buddy” who came into recovery about the same time as she did almost seven years ago recently relapsed and is still out using.
Last week, a trusted servant from one of our meetings went back out again using. He took the group’s money with him. $97.13 missing. A year’s worth of rent to the hosting organization — unpaid.
Last week was the memorial service for a 29-year-old addict who thought she had one more in her. She didn’t make it back.
The topic tonight was “Who is an addict?”
An addict is someone who puts drugs ahead of 37 people who depend on him to open the church basement, make the coffee, take attendance, and count the donations.
An addict is someone who puts drugs first, before their family. Ten days later, her mom, dad and brother are staring at her remains in an urn on a table in a funeral home.
An addict is someone who uses drugs two days before they have a meeting with his probation officer, knowing full well that the stuff won’t clear his system…but tries to convince himself it might. In the end, he doesn’t care enough to worry and uses anyway. 67 days later, he gets help from the courts – reminding him that he is an addict.
I am not responsible for being an addict. But I am responsible for my recovery.
I make choices.
There are consequences.
Just for today, my Higher Power graced with me the gift of sobriety. I don’t take that for granted.
Just for today.
The Magical Storybook of Professor Peacock 