The rocky road of recovery

Alcoholism, for me, was a reasonably easy addiction to overcome, which is less about me and more about how broken I was at the time, and how desperate I was to turn my life around. It’s not easy for most, mind you, and I have massive empathy for anyone who relapses many times, even for those who never recover. (But I have also found what works, works if you work it.)

This article could be about my recovery journey of going cold turkey from September 20, 2003. But then I couldn’t title it, “the rocky road to recovery,” because it hasn’t been a rocky road.

But I do have a rocky road to recovery story,
which is rocky because it is still in play.
I do find it an ongoing battle.

But, you know, just about every time I open up,
I find myself asking, “Is this person going to judge me
as weak or wrong for what I’m about to disclose”?

This feeling is normal, and it’s good for us
to trust trustworthy people.
Such risks of trust place us on the trajectory of growth.

Let me be clear that a trustworthy person
is a relational person you feel completely safe with.

I don’t think it’s anything that should disqualify me to help people (probably qualifies me more for particular kinds of ministry because of some of my past experiences), but it is the tool God is using to make me depend more the Holy Spirit.

The rocky road is full of bumps called triggers. They come from the News, from conversations I witness and hear, from fresh revelations, from memories that are enlivened, and from the most innocuous of stimuli. Sometimes, it’s even a good and hopeful thing that triggers me, because, whilst hope prevails, I cannot help but reflect on its opposite of despair in the past.

The triggers never surprise me from hindsight,
but they do tend to be a surprise in the moment.

When I receive the stimulus, my responses range from taking it in my stride to feeling overwhelmed mentally or emotionally (doesn’t mean I necessarily cease functioning) to needing to get to a safe place to have a meltdown. It’s not always as bad as that can read. I acknowledge that emotionally I have something akin to a monthly cycle. This means I’m vulnerable at times, but I’ve learned to sharpen my self- and social-awareness when I’m feeling these ways. This doesn’t always mean I’m in full control.

The rocky road to recovery is full of both learning opportunities and awkward, sometimes horrific, surprises. Thankfully we’re in a day where there is more known about trauma and triggers and the mental health obstacles to be negotiated.

At times, emotional responses can involve sorrow or rage or fear. Thinking states moderate between feeling empowered (“I can get through this”), to an immediate sense that capacity is being undone by the second.

Exhaustion, manic workloads, some social settings
and more bring us closer to vulnerability.

As we recover, we enter a season of intense growth amid testing moments, always at the invitation of a loving God. There are many times when we feel completely out of our depth, but, unless we are early on in recovery, these are interspersed between greater portions of time where life is manageable.

There is comfort in knowing, when we are assailed, that “This, too, shall pass.”

Just the same, having the expectation that attack does come, not if but when, gives us the opportunity to reframe our thinking; re-triggering is inevitable, but opportunity holds us true in determining that there is a purpose for learning in this.

None of us enjoys being vulnerable,
yet most if not all of us
have some variety of recovery story.

We can see that vulnerability is part of the human condition. We are not alone. Indeed, there are far more in our orbit of existence who themselves are in some form of recovery than aren’t.

Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash