Voices of Recovery

Instead of feeling upset that I must approach the King every day for my every need, I can realize instead that I am truly blessed that He lets me into His chambers every day and patiently listens to my requests.

When we work our programs, we build lighthouses. When we nurture our faith, we build orchards.

Repeated experience has made it abundantly clear that I can either have everything I ever wanted out of life OR I can have alcohol. I can't have both.

It's my choice to pick a little discomfort now, in order to heal, recover, and live a happy, healthy, sane and useful life. Hands down, the choice seems much easier when put that way. It even feels quite good to make the right choices now.

Rebuild my walls of hope, restore my resolution, lead me, step by step, into Your Holy Place...

The Festival of Lights was so dark during my childhood that I barely remember it. Today, I experience Chanukah as the Holiday of Recovery.

In the last few days a number of things have happened in my life which have brought me back to this reality. I have been reminded of what my place is in this puzzle.

It's too easy to go to meetings, hear other people's stories, and say that mine is so different. I like this idea of looking for the similarities, rather than the differences. It proves to me that I'm in the right place.

As addicts, we have done whatever possible not to feel pain. As codependents, we have immersed ourselves in the pain of others, perhaps attempting to mask our own.

Do I do it because I need or want a pat on the back? Or do I do it because it's the right thing to do? Would I be willing to do it if I could tell absolutely no one about it? Would it be enough for me to know that I simply did the right thing?

Inside, I was like a soft-boiled egg, hiding under a hard shell. And what was all that bluster and bravado? It was this fear that someone might try to crack that shell, and all the goo would trickle out, exposing me to the world.

After years of trying to quit drinking on my own, I'm convinced that there is no easy or soft way to recover from the disease of alcoholism.

I hope to be able to keep G-d close to me. But how should I do this? How can I remember to connect with Him daily with the same fervent devotion and connection? How do I "remember to remember"?

G-d did not prove to Moses,Elijah and my grandfather or anyone else that he was G-d. They all experienced something that brought them to believe.

Each of us has our own "handicaps," those things that prevent us from freely "swimming" through life. We are bound in so many ways, yet there is a part of us that wishes, that dreams to be free, and boundlessly cavort, without fear.

I find one side of my brain trying to convince the other side of my brain that I am not an addict. Just a kid who partied too hard and needed a little brake. Then I remember what a mess I made when I was using. A mess of myself, my life, and the people around me.

The perceived unpleasant experiences of today may be the stepping stones to the character traits I need to build for tomorrow. I have to ask G-d to remove my fear of the unknown and replace it with how he would have me be.

If my own life becomes overwhelming, the best thing for me to do is work with another alcoholic or addict. When I am able to put aside my issues by reaching out to help someone else in the program, I am free of the “bondage of self".

In the car I got to talk with the guy who had relapsed and asked him what had happened, but I knew the answer already… He stopped working the program. There were 100 reasons why, each more colorful than the next.

Change is not comfortable because it is different. Different, whether I perceive it as "good" or "bad" is still different and this leads to discomfort.