Pubdate: Mon, 01 Nov 2004 Source: Daily Times, The (TN) Copyright: 2004 Horvitz Newspapers Contact: http://www.thedailytimes.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/1455 Author: Steve Wildsmith RECOVERY FOR THOSE WHO WANT IT A look at the headlines over the past week reveals just how problematic drugs still are in our community. A heroin ring busted up; a suspect dying in police custody of possible drug-related causes. There's no shortage of work for law enforcement officers and treatment officials alike. Sometimes, it can be downright depressing -- it's a never-ending war, trying to lend a helping hand. Often, those who need it don't want it, and the ones who do don't know where to start. I thought about that the other night, after stopping by the halfway house in Knoxville where I got started in recovery. Some of the old familiar faces were still there, guys I consider my brothers. Most of them, however, were new, and given the turnover rate, there will probably be a whole new group replacing most of them before spring comes. Recovery is for those who want it, not those who need it. If it was for everyone who needed it, we'd hold our meetings in Neyland Stadium and still have people waiting outside. Instead, we meet in churches and meeting halls, sometimes in large groups and sometimes in small ones, talking about our lives and struggles over hot coffee and cigarette smoke. That's a horrifying image for a lot of addicts thinking about recovery - -- Lord knows it appalled me, thinking a life without drugs meant a life sentence of those strange, seemingly boring meetings. I realize now that my concept of recovery was colored by the lenses of Hollywood and popular culture. Recovering addicts and alcoholics don't live in those meetings; we go there to learn how to live on the outside. It took me getting so beat down, so desperate and tired and spiritually bankrupt, that I was ready to do anything that would bring an end to the misery in which I lived. When I first acknowledged I had a problem, those meetings made my lip curl; in the end, I was grateful just to have a place to go and sit in peace with my own kind, a place to vent and to rant and to cry without fear of retribution or being cast out. That point -- a ``bottom,'' we call it, when addicts reach the end of their figurative ropes -- is different for everyone in recovery. Some don't have to lose everything before they wise up and decide to pursue a better way of life. Others of us lose homes, family, jobs and more before we finally admit defeat. Either way, we come to the rooms and work a program of recovery because we want to. I didn't know what I would have to do when I got to recovery; I just knew I was willing to do anything as long as it meant something different. Because if I went on feeling and living the same way I had been for so long, I was going to end my life. Death, I thought, was preferable to an existence of utter misery. When I got to the rooms of recovery, I was told to open my ears and listen. To forget what I thought I knew about living life, because obviously whatever I thought I knew was wrong -- if it had been right, I wouldn't have turned out to be a jobless, penniless, near-homeless junkie. Most of my decisions got me wasted; my way of thinking and doing didn't work, and although I was loathe to admit it, that desperation gave me the willingness to listen to others and follow the suggestions they gave me. Even when I didn't want to, I heeded their advice. Often, I didn't see the purpose or the lesson in it until later (sometimes much later), but I knew that I didn't want to get high again, so I'd grit my teeth and do whatever they suggested I try. Every time I was willing to do that, some small part of my life changed. Things improved, slowly at first, and I gradually began to understand that recovery isn't just about staying off of drugs -- it's about an overhaul of the soul, a complete rewiring of the brain. These days, I still try to maintain that willingness to do whatever it takes to stay clean. And I'm using the experiences I've gained, the strength given to me by others and the hope that fills my heart to pass along to someone else. Because drugs aren't going away, and as long as there's a demand for them, addiction will flourish. And night after night, a new addict will walk through the doors of our meeting place, seeking an oasis in the wastelands and a life-altering change that will grant them what they've always sought but never found -- peace of mind. Today, the statistics may be discouraging, but if I can give another struggling addict some of the peace of mind that was given to me, then I'll stay clean for one more day. - --- MAP posted-by: Larry Seguin