Recover
Posted on March 25, 2015
Last night, I had the privilege of being interviewed for a documentary about addiction. (It was not Intervention.) I shared my story with the director, the production coordinator, and a camera. Afterwards, all I can think about it what I should have said and how I should have answered this question, and is my answer to this question going to come off as ignorant? As much as I would like to go back and add another hour’s worth of interview, it’s done and I can’t change anything about it.
That is what recovering from addiction is. The serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage the change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
It’s a tough concept to grasp for people who have never had a substance abuse problem, but the hardest part of my recovery has not been staying sober. That’s not to say it’s easy, but, at this point in my sobriety, drinking is not really something I think about that often. All I have to do to stay right is not pick up a drink. I DON’T do stuff all the time (like now, I’m NOT paying my credit card bill). Not drinking is not work. The work comes with examining the ugly parts of myself that contributed to my alcoholism.
It took a long time for me to start doing an inventory. I quit drinking, but I didn’t accept that there were reasons behind my drinking. I thought I was just a party girl who couldn’t stop once she started. My sponsor said once that sometimes our first year or so of sobriety is simply preparing us for the step work. Sometimes, it takes awhile to humble yourself enough to see that you drank because of jealousy, or anger, or resentment, or fear, and not just because getting hammered is fun. Once you hit that point, though, it becomes so alarmingly clear that you can’t keep running. It’s time to turn around and face your demons.
“There are none among us who have maintained perfect adherence to these principles.”
The Big Book (our Bible) says those words. Those words are read aloud at every AA meeting. Progress, not perfection. We repeat that epithet over and over because we have to. Most of us drank because we could not accept that we were not perfect. of course we weren’t, no one is, but to us, there is perfection and there is failure and there is nothing in between. Every day (EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY) I have to remind myself that I am not perfect and that is a good thing. My stumbles and my failures have put me where I am today, and I have to own them. I want to own them. Because if sharing them helps one person who feels alone and worthless, and that they don’t deserve to get better, then it was all worth it.
The director asked me last night what I would tell non-addicts who don’t see why we can’t just stop using. I didn’t know the answer. I realized later that most of us probably can’t “just stop” because we don’t think we deserve to get better. We’ve fallen so far down the rabbit hole of shame that we legitimately believe we are not worthy of recovery and we’re so scared of failing at recovery, that it’s easier and safer to just not start. But it’s not because we WANT to be the way we are.
I didn’t say a lot of that in my interview, and what I did say was definitely not as eloquent. But that’s okay. It’s done and I can’t change it. Every day, I speak the Serenity Prayer out loud. I don’t know who or what I’m talking to, but I call it Henry, and it makes me feel like someone’s listening. Maybe I’m wrong, but does it matter? I’m not relying on it to do the work for me, just to show me how to build the tools. That prayer just happens to embody pretty much everything I need to stay strong in my recovery.
I have to accept the things I cannot change. I have to have the courage to change the things I can. But I can’t do either of those things without the wisdom to know the difference.
In conclusion, check out the Facebook page for this amazing doc, Recover. It’s so inspiring and needs to reach everyone whose life has been touched by addiction. The more we talk about it, the less frightening it becomes.
Last night, I had the privilege of being interviewed for a documentary about addiction. (It was not Intervention.) I shared my story with the director, the production coordinator, and a camera. Afterwards, all I can think about it what I should have said and how I should have answered this question, and is my answer to this question going to come off as ignorant? As much as I would like to go back and add another hour’s worth of interview, it’s done and I can’t change anything about it.
That is what recovering from addiction is. The serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage the change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
It’s a tough concept to grasp for people who have never had a substance abuse problem, but the hardest part of my recovery has not been staying sober. That’s not…
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Paul Pannone | www.pauljpannone.com 