Tag: relapse

It’s all relative…and it’s all very REAL!


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.

When I grow lemons, then I can make lemonade!


Life didn’t throw me a lemon.  I grew it!  But the adage can still hold true!  What am I going to do about it?  See it as a problem, or seize it as an opportunity?

I went to my settlement hearing today. The lemon I grew – I was given six month’s home detention for my probation violation in November.  (See earlier posts).  Nobody to blame but myself.  I accept the consequences of my actions.  But what does that really mean?

At tonight’s meeting, we talked about self-acceptance and acceptance of others. Someone shared their insight and learning that acceptance isn’t tolerance. I’ve also heard before that love isn’t tolerance. Which means…do I really want to hear, “I tolerate you” ?  No, I want to know I’m accepted for who I am – just as I am.  I want to hear that I’m loved just as I am – unconditionally.

Likewise, I don’t want to just tolerate my consequences. I want to lean into them. I want to accept them. I want to embrace them unconditionally, choosing to see this as an opportunity – not a setback.

That’s making lemonade out of the lemons. That I grew.

So, during my home detention, I can use the time to deepen my spirituality.  I can spend more time meditating – listening.  I can grow in my understanding of solitude.

As I prepare to launch my new business, instead of seeing home detention as a barrier to success, I can use the time to learn new skills — study and teach myself Adobe CS5, which will serve me well.

I’ve wanted to deepen my grasp of Non-Violent Communication (NVC) — of living from a place of compassion, of connection, of authenticity. There are weekly teleconferences I’ve avoided because I’ve been too busy.  I can use my alone time to pursue this goal.

Or, I can feel sorry for myself.  Nap the time away.  Grow a resentment against someone.  Beat myself up for not being perfect and making a mistake. Allow this to be a setback.

But, just for today, with grace and humility, I choose a difference path.  I choose life.

A new understanding of surrender


Last night, I got a text from an old using buddy. In fact, J. was the one with whom I reconnected on my last relapse. He actually called me on my stuff then — talked about recovery — and had us pray together. In a sense, he pulled out of my rut and called me back to a more serious and honest recovery. So, like a little brother, he has held a special place in my daily prayers over the past 40 days.

Sadly, he’s still caught in the grip of the disease. He wasn’t texting to see how my Christmas shopping was going. When I replied with questions about his recovery and told him I would be here for him if he needed to talk or go to a meeting, the texting stopped. My heart broke. I said a prayer for him and drifted off to sleep.

Today, I was sharing with a friend about the late night contact. I talked about how there was no temptation to do anything more than help. I shared that even had I been out at my house alone or somewhere on my own (vs. where I am now with a roommate), I probably would have been ok with the text. “I didn’t call anyone as it was late — but if I had been alone, or had problems letting go, I would have.”

That’s when my friend pointed out I still was looking at this the wrong way. I was talking about my strength and my ability to say no. I wasn’t talking from a position of surrender, giving up control, and admitting powerlessness. It’s the cunning part of the disease – wanting me to believe I can handle things like a text from J. With that false pride, next time I might put myself in a risky situation because I think I can handle it. Or, I might not call as quickly as I need to and succumb to the temptation. My friend even cautioned me that praying isn’t sufficient. Like the 5th step in our fellowships tells us to share with our Higher Power and another human being, that triangle of confession is at the heart of admitting — of finding the humility to acknowledge true powerlessness and lack of control to God and another human being.

Good insight. Focus on surrender, not strength — on powerlessness, not ability.

I continue to pray for J – because at this point, that’s the best I can do for him. To think I can save him, or be there for him is truly naïve. The temptation to pick up would be too strong. My recovery comes first – and if I honestly want what’s best for him, I need to keep him in my prayers — asking for God’s will, not mine. To vainly try anything but surrendering him to my Higher Power is really more about my disease, my wants and an unhealthy codependency than it is an honest desire to see him do well.

The good news is I know God’s will is for him to be clean and to find freedom. It’s just a question of when he hits his bottom and accepts that he is an addict. He has some knowledge of recovery…so I pray that his bottom isn’t too low.

Letting go…