February - Relationships in Recovery

I sat down to write this blog post and wasn’t entirely sure where to start. I wanted to write about my friend who decided with his girlfriend that they could drink for a night, and how the night ended with him dying of an overdose in her arms. But that’s not my story, although it taught me just how dangerous this deal can be. I wanted to write about my relationship history, with all of its dysfunction and chaos; about how I wanted a relationship to fix me. But we have all seen unhealthy relationships. We all know how those relationships work out. So I’ve decided to share about my relationship today, and more importantly, what it took to get me here.

Early in my sobriety I did what turns out to be fairly common. I got jealous of people who had happy relationships. I wanted the love of my life right then. I wanted that epic love story I’d seen in the movies, but I didn’t want to work for it. I saw something I wanted and I couldn’t stand that it wasn’t just happening when I wanted it. My sponsor found this whole phase quite entertaining, especially since her relationship was a source of my envy. She was in the budding stages of a beautiful and healthy relationship, and I wanted what she had been working towards for years. She informed me that I had nothing to offer in a relationship. She suggested what seemed like a tedious process. She told me to become the person my Higher Power intended. She told me to stop searching for someone to fix me. She told me to try loving myself first. She said that if I couldn’t be happy alone, I couldn’t be happy in a couple. I didn’t like any of it, but I listened. I listened because I was just as defeated in terms of relationships as I had been with substances. So I followed her directions, and something incredible happened.

I stopped focusing on what the people around me had to offer. I started focusing on what I could contribute to the stream of life. Being of service to those around me gave me something to like about myself. I got used to being by myself, and I started to enjoy it. I focused on growing. I became someone I liked, and then, someone I loved. I continued to work all 12 steps in my daily life (to the best of my ability). I continued to take inventory until it became a habit.

I’m in a relationship now, but it wasn’t without work. This is the longest I’ve ever been in a relationship, and every step of the way, we’ve done everything we could to keep it healthy. We started by building a friendship without the possibility of a romantic relationship anywhere near the table. Then, when we both acknowledged our feelings, we talked with our sponsors before anything proceeded. After hashing things out openly and honestly with our sponsors, we sat down and discussed our relationship ideals. I grow towards the ideals I set down, because to be a partner, I must offer what I hope to receive. I continue to take inventory, and I use my network for direction. I look for what I can offer to the world, my family, and my relationship.

We plan on getting married later this year, and this entire journey has been a beautiful blessing. My fiancée doesn’t fill any void, nor do I expect her to be the solution to any problem I may face. Instead she is my partner in facing the world. She’s my teammate. We work together to build a healthy family life. All of that is dependent on my willingness to be honest and open. When issues do arise, I have to face them with the willingness to admit my part, and amend my thoughts and my actions. Most of all, I’ve realized anything worth having is worth working for.

Contributed by J.M.

February - Relationships in Recovery

So, it’s February, and Valentine’s Day is right around the corner, and some of us are thinking about our significant other, or finding one, and what that means in recovery. What do healthy relationships look like in recovery? I know a little, just from my perspective.

Before I got sober, I dated a lot, but none of my relationships were healthy. Why?

I started drinking & using before I ever dated anyone, so I already activated my addiction and character defects, and brought them into every relationship I had. 

Chaos and dysfunction always followed the “pink cloud” that began with meeting someone new; you know that time when you start dating, and everything is fresh and exciting and shiny and warm and fuzzy before the s@#* hits the fan? Glorious. I got addicted to “finding the right one” and it was an endless cycle. The longest I ever dated anyone was six months. Tops.

The majority of people who were attracted to me, and that I was attracted to, lived a very similar lifestyle. So I was sick, they were sick, and we made things that are supposed to be awesome and amazing you share with someone like falling in love, creating intimacy, and being vulnerable, terrifying and crazy. But it was all I knew, so I kept doing it. After all, I was a catch. They were nuts. They better realize how lucky they were to date me!

Although my self-esteem was really low, and I did not love myself, I tried not to let anyone see that. The ones who could see it and were attracted to that tragic sadness eventually tried to “fix me” and it never worked. Tragedy and loneliness became what I expected at the end of every relationship, so sometimes I broke it off before it got bad like I knew it was going to.

So along with my chemical addiction I became a sex & love addict. Even if I managed to find a really cool, somewhat healthy person to be with, I self-sabotaged with my behaviors. I had no solution. I could not stop. Somehow, in the height of all this craziness, I met someone who partied on my level. In fact, she drank more than me, which in itself was astounding. She had all the characteristics I had in my crazy mind of “the one” and we actually dated for more than six months. We moved in together, and I had never lived with anyone before. I did not cheat on her. We were inseparable. Somehow, on most days the best parts of us were stronger than our worst. But drinking and partying got worse and worse, and we started getting sicker and sicker. Dysfunction, depression, anger and fear started to dominate our relationship. I used more to cope with it. Then I hit my bottom and got sober. 

We had our two year anniversary the day after I checked into treatment. I was in treatment, she was still drinking. Everyone told me to cut it off, end it, walk away before I relapsed and drank with her. Then I started working the steps with a sponsor who shared a similar story. I was getting better, but she wasn’t. I was terrified for her; you see, she was a blackout drinker, and I was her babysitter, I always made sure she got home safe, and now that I was gone, who would be there for her? I prayed and prayed, I don’t think I’ve ever prayed that hard for anyone or anything, even myself. I was told to let her go, create some boundaries, and work on me. Be selfish. Protect my sobriety. I knew my sponsor was right, but I could not walk away totally. I still called her every day and talked to her. I was honest with my sponsor about it, and he was able to help. It seemed hopeless. I kept praying and working with my sponsor.

 Then a miracle happened. She called one morning and said she hit her bottom. She asked me what to do. She went to a meeting that day and got a sponsor. I held my breath, filled with fear that she would go back out. My sponsor told me that I was powerless, and I could only work on myself, and that if we were meant to be, it would work out, and if not, it would end. I believed that totally, and focused on making myself better. We talked about it and agreed that we would stay apart and work on ourselves until we each had a year, and then we would see if things were better or worse. I truly believe that without the guidance of my sponsor, I would have self-sabotaged. He gave me strict rules: stay away from females, go to men’s meetings, and hang with a sober crew of guys, and it worked. I still talked on the phone with her, but we did not see each other in person. After she got her year she moved to Atlanta and we got an apartment together. Getting to know her in sobriety was a trip. We took our time. We worked our own programs. We trusted our sponsors and did what they told us to do. We got better and better. Sobriety made us better people, healthier, sharper, and more aware of who we were as individuals and as a couple.

So I guess the question could be “How did a crazy drug & sex addict like you get someone healthy and amazing you love, that loves you back, and how do you stay together? The answer is recovery. I work a program…a strong one. It has to be with the wreckage of my past. I invested a lot of time and energy into my destructive relationships with drugs, sick behaviors, sick thoughts, and sick people. I believe I have to invest the same amount of time and energy in working my program, getting healthier and staying in recovery. Why do I believe this?

Miracles keep happening. We stayed together. We learned how to be in a relationship sober, and what that meant. We stayed together for four years. I asked her to marry me. She said yes. We are still married. I still love her. I have not messed it up. I did not do all this on my own. I have always had the help and guidance of others ever since I got sober. I do not deserve the life I have today. I definitely do not deserve the amazing woman I am married to. Gratitude and serenity permeate my life today. I do not deserve to be this happy, so I do everything I can to keep it, the way I have been taught. If I am asked for advice about relationships in recovery, my answer is to ask advice from people that have more recovery, serenity, experience and wisdom than you do, and do everything they tell you. And pray. It works. I am living proof. 

Contributed by B. W.

November - Gratitude

The concept of gratitude mostly evaded my field of experience for the first 23 years of my life. Theoretically, the word carried a wholesome significance with it, but I understood this only as an abstract ideal. The actuality of my situation was that something always seemed to be missing, and whatever that something was in that moment, was of vastly greater importance than the culmination of all of the things that I did have. However, when those, what I then saw as naïve, people gave thanks to God for their meals, I was envious and disgusted at once. Expressing gratitude to another person could be written off as a manipulative effort, but these people seemed genuinely glad and content with what they had in that moment. It was baffling to witness. Occasionally, I would be scolded for not being grateful, which for me felt about the same as being scolded for not being happy. The experience just served to agitate and confuse me. Rationalizing myself into an emotional state was never a successful endeavor, and, for someone as self-centered as I was, appealing to the plight of others as a reason to be grateful was utter nonsense. At best, I could be convinced that I should feel grateful, but I never did feel that way. If I had to put a description to my old conception of gratitude, I think that calling it, ‘directed happiness’ would be the best I could do – ‘I am happy about x = I am grateful for x.’ Obviously, if one is happy about the presence of something, they would act as though grateful for it. I never was happy about much of anything, so it seemed ridiculous to expect me to act grateful. Today, my encounters with gratitude are better described as a perspective than as a feeling. It is the recognition of my sole need, a connection with God, and, as a consequence, the superfluity of everything else. It is recognizing everything in my life as necessary in God’s will. Gratitude exists in the experience of things and events as paradoxically meshed as, at once, necessary and superfluous. These are all just words, and, ultimately, gratitude is generated by action, not pontification. In recovery, my perspective has shifted. I’ve found it impossible to transcend my own feelings and attitudes in order to change them with the aim of changing my behavior. Knowing I should be grateful and attempting to will myself to feel that, in order to enact it, has been totally unfruitful. How I achieve an attitude of gratitude towards the things in my life today is through acting grateful. Each morning, I make a gratitude list. This isn’t a list of things that I feel grateful for in that moment, but more of a checklist to make sure I’m behaving gratefully towards each of the things and people on the list. Am I acting grateful for my family? My roommates? The fellowship? Those are a few of the items that go on the list every day. I think of my gratitude list as part of my 10th step. If I feel particularly ungrateful for something, I observe my recent actions regarding that thing, and, moving forward, look for opportunities to shift into actions of greater gratitude. In doing so, I have the experience of feeling more grateful. Today, gratitude is part of a daily discipline to grow spiritually.

Contributed by H. B.

October - Stress and the CRC

 I was never good at the whole “school” thing. It’s taken me 7 years, 4 colleges, and 3 different majors to finally end up at KSU (where I will blessedly be graduating from next year #finally).  It’s taken so long because well… college has always been sort of scary for me. I have a history of getting overwhelmed- by the curriculum, the masses of young students, the expectation that a degree will lead to something fabulous once I get into the “real world.” I can easily send myself into an existential crisis just standing in The Commons looking around at everyone.  All these people, the potential, and jittery need to excel sort of smothers me. It’s one of the reasons I started abusing drugs and alcohol in my early twenties. And ironically, the addiction that I used to alleviate anxiety from school ended up keeping me from graduating on time.

            In order to successfully complete school sober, I needed support. Becoming a member of the CRC has helped immensely in managing academic stress. In the vast expanse of the student body, there is a community of people who are trying to get through their education not just sober, but happy. I am the kind of person that puts headphones on the moment I step onto campus and can have them in the entire day except during class (admittedly, sometimes in class too). I go an entire school day sometimes without any human interaction.  Which is fine on the good days, but when I’m losing my s**t over an exam or just need a hug and a good meeting I know I have a place to go. Between classes I can duck in for a quick (much needed) cup of coffee, access the free printing (which is better than someone giving you free kittens or a Unicorn), or just lie on some beanbags and organize my thoughts.

            The best part is that I now have access to a group of people that know exactly what I’m going through and can offer a little caffeinated comfort when I really need it. There are advisors and counselors with open doors. There are meetings almost every day and seminars in between. And did I mention free printing? I wish I had a CRC my first year of college, way back before my addiction took control of my life. But for now, I am grateful for the community I am apart of.  The sense of camaraderie between us, with all of our different stories and personalities is really nice to have. Somehow college this time around seems a little less terrifying.  

Contributed by K.M.

October - Stress and the CRC

I’ve been in the CRC for about four semesters. I’ve had every experience in school that you could think of: expulsion, failing, passing and succeeding. I’m 25 years old and have been trying school since I got out of high school in 2008. I’ve been sober now for a little over three years, and this is my experience on doing school, mainly during exam time.

            When I got sober, I really had no plans on going back to school. I had been out of school for about a year and a half before I got sober and had really given up hope and just told myself school wasn’t for me. When I got about a year, I figured I would give it one more shot. In the past, I had been to two different schools and had been expelled from both of them multiple times. I had a terrible GPA and was really scared if I could even get in school. I had two friends that were trying to get back in to school and really helped me to believe that it was possible. I started by going to a smaller school first for one semester just to get my feet wet so to speak. The next step for me was to get to a bigger school so I could continue my education. It just so happened that my two roommates where at KSU and helped me once again in believing I could get in and that It would all be fine. I was really worried because of my past that I would be rejected. I went to the CRC and talked to Pat. Once again, I didn’t think this would help or that I could get into the CRC. If you haven’t noticed, there is a pattern, and I had a very hard time in early sobriety believing in myself. Once again, God and all the people around me believed in me and helped me get where I needed to be. This is one thing the CRC has help me with a ton is believing that I can succeed and I can better my education and my life through school and a spiritual contact through sobriety.

While at Kennesaw, I have been through the ups and downs of exams many times.  It is my experience that it really has helped me to study a little every day for a long time and also the week of exams make a very big effort to make more meetings than I would on a normal week. I’ve spend a lot of time doing the exact opposite, and the places that my head can take me such are just complete fear of failure and unworthiness. During exam time, the rooms at the CRC are very important to me because everyone in there is dealing with the same thing, and just like sobriety, everyone can relate and help each other get through it. A couple of semesters ago I was really not in a good place academically, and I made some bad choices. I did not end up doing very well, and I was very ashamed at how I lied to all of my friends and told them I was doing fine. This is an example of just not taking advantage of my resources because when I came clean about what I had done, everyone around me just wanted to help; no one was mad or disappointed because they could relate to how I made it hard on myself. The moral of the story is always to take advantage of things like peers in and out of the CRC and to use the resources they give us that no other students get to use. 

Contributed by H.G.

September - National Recovery Month

We are surrounded by messages that tell us what to do, what to think, what to buy and what to believe about ourselves. These messages come from the news, movies, television, our friends, parents, and more importantly ourselves. It can be so overwhelming! I get so bombarded by what runs through my head and what I believe everyone else is thinking. And many times those messages are simply false and have a negative effect on our lives.

Working in the field of recovery on a college campus, I run into many people who seem to understand little about addiction. I hear them make comments that can be harmful, naive and just annoying. But we are educators. We work on a college campus after all. And educating someone who may not understand addiction and recovery (which may actually be quite a few people in this world) takes some time and some patience. Hopefully we do our job well and spread that knowledge on an even broader level as we participate in national conferences and conversations taking place that are part of much larger movement toward more education around the truth about addiction and recovery.

Part of the conversation about spreading the hope of recovery and the truth about addiction includes some discussions about anonymity. Individuals in recovery and not in recovery are talking about the appropriate way to share stories of recovery with others. Without getting too involved in the political side of that conversation, I do believe that it is very beneficial to have these stories heard by some means. Without those stories, the world is left with the media and hollywood to portray addiction and recovery. Although sometimes helpful and informative, those may not always be the most reliable sources of knowledge.

In honor of National Recovery Month (September), the KSU Center for Young Adult Addiction and Recovery has hosted and participated in various events celebrating recovery and sharing facts about addiction. One event is a collaborative project titled "Into the Light" in which participants were asked to make a note or a drawing to remember someone lost to overdose, share hope to someone still struggling with an addiction, share a story of recovery or share a message of encouragement. When this first was initiated, I wasn't sure what the response would be; but it has been overwhelming. So many people related to the purpose of the project and had a story to share. I found myself laughing and crying as I read through all the messages people had written. Some were notes to someone who had passed. Others had found creative ways of sharing hope and inspiration.

I think we do not pay enough attention to the messages we send and receive each day. It's not only important to recognize the messages we might be absorbing every day (negative or positive messages coming from media, peers, ourselves, etc.) but also to counter those messages with truth. If you grew up believing you weren't good enough and still believe it, maybe it's time to ask yourself what put that idea in your head. And are you truly not good enough? At everything? Maybe you haven't done as well as you wanted to with everything you've tried. Everyone else in the future of human beings has also not done as well as they would have liked with everything they tried. Stop defeating yourself with these messages. Start a new message! One of my favorite notes from the "Into the Light" project is "stumbling seven times but recovering eight." It's a simple Japanese proverb speaking to the tough times we face on our journeys, but how we must keep going. If we only focus on failure, we see "seven times I've failed," but we must also look at our success: "eight times I've gotten back up!"

I'm not in recovery. I'm the odd one out in my daily life (kind of always felt that way, so I can relate when others in recovery say the same). But I have gained so much from the messages of recovery. What I have learned from the students that I work with has challenged me and made me a better person. I am constantly hit in the face with how grateful I feel. And right now I'm grateful that others are willing to share their messages. During recovery month, in their communities, at national conferences, at a meeting, and for an art project. The stories really matter. People need messages that are not only true but helpful. People do recover. There is always hope. And you can't do this alone. 

 Guest Post by Liz Lang, CRC Coordinator 

September - National Recovery Month

     In light of the fact that this is National Recovery Month I wanted to share a little of my story and how I get to live an amazing life.

     My recovery journey began on October 28, 2012. It really started way before that but this is when it really started to matter. I decided I'd had enough of my eating disorder after nearly 30 yrs with it running my life and I wanted a life worth living. I was put in contact with an amazing woman that also gave me hope that I could actually find recovery. She was my first sponsor and is now a treasured friend that helped me change my life and find my passion again.

     Initially my motivation to find recovery was to join the CRC. I wanted that sense of community, the support and the camaraderie that everyone had. By the grace of my Higher Power and the help of many others I was able to meet the requirements to join. Unbeknownst to me that one decision and desire would be the key to giving me a purpose in life other than self-destructing.

     That purpose is to help others working towards recovery from eating disorders. Currently I work as a house manager in a transitional living home for women recovering from eating disorders. Being able to wake up every day and be of service to my residents as well as being able to offer strength, hope and experience is the biggest blessing. Each day I am amazed by the life I get to live and the way I get to be a part of the recovery process for others. I get to watch my residents grow and blossom and take risks. I've cried with them and laughed with them (lots of laughing) and talked them through their fears.

     Many years ago I wanted to be a therapist in the eating disorder community but gave up that dream because I didn't think I could find true recovery in order to do it. Today I get the privilege of working in the field while pursuing a new dream of bringing therapeutic cooking to eating disorder treatment. It's been fun incorporating this into my house manager duties and watching my house take more food risks as we plan "family" dinners. Everyone chips in and the camaraderie has been amazing.  The desire to push through fears in regards to fear foods has been strengthened in my residents as they get more involved in meal planning and cooking.

     The beauty of all of this is that when I first started this phase of my recovery I could not even dream or hope that I would have the life I have today. My world seemed to be falling apart but I know now that it was falling into place.

Contributed by K.M.