For Those That Went Before Us......

I've decided to share my first year of recovery in segments. Because with each part there was a lesson, or something good that came from each part, as well as each part having a story behind it.

So I was a few weeks clean, going to 6-8 meetings a week, and staying VERY close to my support system. I went to meetings, and went home, with the occasional outing with a recovering friend that was all I did.

Let me back up just a minute here. During the summer there was a good handful of us in recovery that hung out together. Out of that group 2 of us are clean as of this date. There was 6-8 of to start with.

One of the people in that group was named Trent. A beautiful soul, and a boy after my own heart. He was into punk music and clothes and funky hair. There never an attraction, but we were buds. Trent and my friend Doug lived together. Our little group would often go to meetings and then go back to their place to watch movies, or play Wii.

Trent ended up moving out and into a place with a girlfriend who used. He went back out using. We were all crushed, especially Doug. One day I was at Doug's and Trent called. I picked up the phone and talked with him for a good hour. He said he knew what he had to do, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to do it anymore. (Talking about recovery.) He also said I was the only person he felt hadn't judged him. I know that's not true, I just tend to have a softer approach. When I hung up the phone I knew that was going to be the last time I spoke with Trent.

And it was. early November I woke up to more text messages and voicemails than I had in a while. Trent was dead, he took his own life. His dad and a few of his siblings had committed suicide around the same age. So I'm not going to lie about my feelings. I was very angry with him in a way. He fullfilled a destiny that didn't need to be, but I was also heartbroken. I lost a friend, and another addict died.

I had the stomach flu so bad when his funeral came around, but I went. I knew I would kick myself for the rest of my life if I didn't go and be with my friends, and say goodbye the proper way. He was a beatiful soul, and I'm happy that he no longer has to fight the battle. I'm sure he's at peace. Love you Trent!

So that was my first experience with death fresh into recovery. I've been around death my whole life, but never did I ever face it clean.

A few months past and a lifelong friend of mine, someone I manipulted, took advantage of, and hurt numerous times througout my using, his mother's cancer came back. She was a dear sweet lady and I was close to her as well. I stole lots of medication from her over the years, and if she knew about it (which I'm pretty sure she did) she never treated me any different. She was always the same kind lady no matter what.

I had a plan for saying goodbye. I wanted my dad to go with me and be attatched to my hip, so I couldn't have the opportunity to take any morphine if I wanted to. I also debated making an ammends to her about the things I did.

She wound up in the hospital which eliminated the need for a babysitter. My friend was going with me to see his mom. I decided not to make an ammends to her in the traditional way. That would've been very selfish of me to lay everything on her while she was on her death bed. I knew that she would've forgiven me for my wrong-doings anyways. So while I was there with her I prayed silently, for her forgiveness and for my higher powers forgiveness. And I know that both were there.

Here's the nasty part of addiction, and how fucked up the addict inside is. I was sitting at her funeral and knowing that everyone was going to the reception at a restaurant outside of town, and I started going back into old behavior and thought about sneaking over there and seeing if there were any meds left in the house.(Just to clarify this lady was not an addict.)

Luckily some deep breaths and prayer cured that. I also told on myself at the next meeting I was at.

Skip a few months ahead, on my 6 month anniversary my friend Victor died of an overdose. He was a staple at all of our events. He was always there playing volleyball at the Washburn campout. It was quite shocking to me. He was always around ever since I'd first been around recovery. He was someone I saw as having it "together".

He worked hard at keeping the meetings in the Asland area going, and worked at Red Cliff treatment facility. He was ouspoken and fun to be around. He was a source of inspiraion for the lives around him that he touched.

A short time later I was reading my Basic Text and turned to page 74, chapter 7 Recovery and Relapse. This it what it reads at the very top: "If you have a hard time, read this chapter 2x a day and it will help. Love, Victor Reyes" It gave me chills and brought me back to the fact that this disease can take anyone at anytime if we are not diligent.

It came out a short time after Victor's death he had a heart issue, and all it took was one time. Too bad he didn't listen to his own advice.

Addiction is a deadly debilitating disease that affects millions every day. In 2009 we kicked off the year with 12 drug related deaths in about a 6 week timeframe. For this small area that an enormous amount. So please feel free to add someones name in the comments if you know someone who has died from addiction. And may they all rest in peace.

Finally!

So my 2 weeks in treatment this time around was more beneficial than both times before put together. I was really starting to deal with my emotional pain, and beginning to honestly feel better. I had work calling me and bugging me in treatment about if I stole meds. So I finally admitted to them that I did. They referred me to the state and I lost my CNA license. No big loss, that job always got me into trouble.

I also had a theft charge I needed to deal with in the coming months. There was also the matter of my boyfriend who was currently in jail. He was coming to treatment after I got out. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be with him anymore. He was a bit of a control freak.

I got out of treatment, and began going to meetings again. I made an attempt to work on things with my boyfriend, but he wasn't willing to budge on certain things. The deal breaker was him losing his temper flying down the streets of Rhinelander almost killing us, then calling me every name in the book, and punching my car window.

I began hanging out with a few people I was in treatment with, and ended up isolating and dwelling on the breakup, the loss of my license, and my court case. I started to become overwhelmed. I was watching Intervention one day and got the brilliant idea to use compressed air as a drug. This I thought would be a stealth way to get high, but it made me an idiot.

I blacked out, almost like I was drunk. I did that for a few days before my parents knew something was up. And one night I decided to have "a" drink. Yeah, well, I ended up going balls to the wall and getting completely tanked.

I woke up and thought I'd actually gotten away with it. Then my parents descended upon me and whisked me to St. Mary's for detox. Then my dad said I had to stay in Koinonia after that, and I wasn't welcome home unless I was clean.

They admitted me to the hospital overnight because they couldn't get my heart rate under control. So I had the IV and the whole bit. It was the only year since I was introduced to recovery that I would be missing the Halloween dance. My parents also spoke to my sponsor, and she had nothing but kindness for me.

I had a nurse come in and talk to me about how I was too young to throw my life away. She did so in a very non-judgemental way. I sat and thought about my journey through this hell, and I finally had my moment of complete surrender. I knew, and still know that if I use one more time it equals death for me.

There was no more mind games with myself. This was it, I had to fight for my life with all of my might, and do whatever it takes to stay clean. The next day I went to Koinonia, and sat in detox overnight. My counselor came in and spoke with me the next day. She also offered nothing but her support.

It was right in front of me this whole time. The support system was there, i just needed to dive in. I tried convincing my parents to pick me up, but they insisted I stayed another night. Can't say I blamed them after everything I put them through.

So my clean date is 10/31/08. Halloween, my favorite holiday and my other birthday. I went to 6-8 meetings a week. I stayed very close to my support system, and began calling my sponsor at least three times a week. I was still a wreck, but it was a step in the right direction FINALLY!

Although I had no clue that my first year clean was going to be like a battlefield, and anything that could go wrong did..........