A Take on Recovery
A personal view on recovery, 12-step programs, atheism and life afterward
I am not a counselor or therapist. I hold no clinical certifications, and I don’t provide direct treatment services to others. I am a single father, employee, pet owner, and family member to others. I am also a student; however, this is not a paper for school. It is me simply sharing a bit of my story and opinions about recovery.
I am a person who has struggled with multiple addictions multiple times throughout my life. Smoking cigarettes in elementary school, sneaking alcohol in middle school, and then moving to marijuana and LSD in high school. By some accounts, this is normal inquisitive behavior for maturing individuals learning about themselves and the world around them. The most common and desired outcome of this exploration is that the individual had the experience and either wasn’t moved or impressed enough to want to explore further. Then there are people like me who felt their lives drastically change as a result of intoxication. We felt an increase in mood levels, became more creative and outgoing, became more sociable, and felt more personable. Most of us simply enjoyed the euphoria we experienced and welcomed that short deviation from real-world worries and responsibilities.
I was always warned about the dangers of drugs, and we children were endlessly coached on how to “just say no”. We heard that you become addicted after trying (name your substance) once, and it was very probable that a complete stranger would eventually approach you and offer free drugs. We were taught to shun those who used drugs or abused alcohol by actively ignoring them, denying them love, and withholding compassion. Some of our parents told us that we’d be disowned if we ever did drugs, thereby removing the promise of unconditional love from our own families.
Despite all the mostly flawed education, constant warnings, and fearmongering, I had, even as a young kid, an innate desire to do drugs. I didn’t know what kind of drugs, but I knew that the promise of feeling different sounded very appealing. I also sensed that I’d inevitably see the inside of a jail cell at some point in my life. Oddly enough, these things did not scare me. I always ran a little askew of social norms and was never accepted into the crowd of popular or successful schoolmates. I wore black, dyed my hair, rode a skateboard, and listened to depressing or aggressive music. I didn’t play sports and couldn’t relate to that crowd. My least favorite classes were when a coach was the teacher. It angered me that popularity and preferential treatment was given to those who were good at throwing a ball. I still harbor those feelings today!
I dropped out of high school in my junior year. I’d still wake up every morning and drive to school. I’d usually attend first period band but would leave afterwards. The rest of the day would be spent with other misfits at a local Denny’s buying coffee with our lunch or allowance money. We’d also visit parks or trails where we’d sit and talk about life and how depressed we all were. I eventually stopped going all together once I moved out at 17 years old. I would stay with friends or a girlfriend until I eventually got my own place. It was at this time that I discovered my first real addiction in the form of methamphetamine. My first use was with a long-time friend who had recently tried it for the first time and this occasion was not how the night was originally planned out. We had no luck in finding LSD and it was mentioned that we could get meth. I asked a lot of questions, like, what does it do, how do you feel, do you lose your sense of reality, and most importantly, will other people know. I was easily satisfied by the answers and agreed to try it out. If I were to be honest with you and myself, I would have still done it even if I had concerns. That night was life changing. I felt very focused, personable, outgoing, and adventurous. I was ready and willing to do anything. I felt no negative consequences other than being tired at the end. In my mind, I knew I would do it again and if I was lucky, keep doing it with no end in sight. Around that same time, my best friend has also first tried meth but separately from me. When I told him I had tried it, he mentioned that he did as well. From that point forward, we embraced the lifestyle, and, suddenly, everything became to be about getting high. We lived pretty innocent lives outside of the using, buying, and occasional selling of drugs. We did a lot of art, made a lot of lists, worked on cars, etc. We both had our own homes and vehicles, enough money to buy food and cigarettes, and a seemingly endless supply of drugs. With the perspective I had back then, I could never have imagined what a disaster these decisions would cause. I could have never anticipated the pain, suffering, madness, and loss that I would feel throughout my life due to substance use.
Since these writings aren’t meant to detail every use, I am not going into much further details, especially specific moments or activities. I felt that disclosing my introduction into addictive substances other than nicotine would give the reader a glimpse into the mindset I had about drugs and just how easy it was for me to open that door. I will only share a few more things about my past and addictions to give the reader a clear idea of my history without divulging all the messy details.
I got clean from my first round of methamphetamine use at the age of 21. By that time, I had graduated to IV use, alienated my friends and family, and became homeless for the first time. I married less than a year later and remained clean throughout the entirety of the marriage. 13 years later, I was experiencing some significant trauma, and my solution was to seek out my old drug of choice and relapsed shortly afterwards. I learned that stimulants weren’t usually deadly and did little to curb negative emotions, so I tried heroin in the hopes that I would eventually do a fatal dose and end the nightmare. Ongoing and increasing use led to my eventual homelessness and criminal record.
After three use of heavy use, daily criminal activity and countless encounters with law enforcement, I sought detox and inpatient treatment in September of 2015. I have maintained my heroin clean date since being discharged; however, I have used methamphetamine once since then. In my early 40’s, I started drinking alcohol. Mostly out of boredom but also trying to foolishly convince myself that as an adult, I could handle it.
Afterall, I had beat an addiction that was severe enough that I willingly put myself into homelessness just to maintain it. I drank for several years without a problem. I would only drink at night after kiddo was in bed. I would always walk to my bed (to be distinguished from passing out on the couch), I would sleep well, and never have a hangover. The Covid era upped the game because I suddenly had no responsibility to report to a job as we were all laid off. Plenty of money was coming in from increased unemployment benefits and everyone had nothing but time on their hands. Gradually, my self-imposed rules of only drinking at night were steadily broken, and I discovered day drinking. Alcohol was an easy addiction because it only required money and a nearby store to get more. I never had to wait for a dealer to show up or shoplift some tradable item to use as currency. I quickly reached the point where I was experiencing tremors, severe anxiety and blacking out. I would often fall and injure myself and wake up having no recollection of how I got hurt. It eventually became so critical that I went to inpatient treatment twice within a two-month period. I suffered through the detoxification process, participated in all the groups and graduated on time. Despite my participation and completion of the treatment process, I didn’t feel quite done. Another year and several multi-day stays in hospitals later; I can finally say that I have quit drinking. In four short years, I drank enough for it to nearly become fatal several times, and had I not checked into the hospital those two times, there was a good chance of me experiencing a stroke or having a seizure. I also caused damage to my liver and developed some heart problems. I can say, at least in my experience, that alcohol is unequivocally the worst and hardest substance to quit. It was a beast on my back that was socially acceptable and easy to obtain.
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