who, me?


This is an easy one for me. Seriously. Sometimes I think this is what recovery too frequently tends to run towards. And most of us hear this sooner or later, right? “Hey, at least I’m not drinking and/or drugging” as though that were the only camel in the tent. The rude awakening for us somewhere down the road of sobriety is we come to the realization that, “Crap, I’m like this when I’m sober, too. Damn.” It isn’t until that little insight settles in that we may choose to decide to settle in for the long haul, because this recovery thing is likely to take a lot longer than we thought. And it’s apparently going to involve a lot more effort than simply not picking up another bottle or jamming some more meth up our frayed nostrils. The tension enters into the process when we start placing too much value on the stuff we’d rather hold onto — not the booze or the drugs — but the personal junk we mistakenly believe gives our lives place and purpose. Fortunately, it’s no one else’s responsibility in these rooms to remind us how lame we are and how far we have to go in our healing. Seriously.