“He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.”

Psalm 40:2 ESV

I write this reflecting on one of my first observations: recovery is a blend of bubble wrap and tightrope walking.

As I mark three years since crash landing at my original basecamp, I see parts of life that still need bubble wrap and others where I walk a tightrope.

Recently, we needed a new TV. Our trusty telly had given us four years of service, but as lines and jumpy images set in, we knew it was time for a replacement. This situation highlighted the need for applied honesty in my recovery. The TV remains an item I need bubble wrapped. We selected a TV, and as soon as we unboxed it, I asked my loving partner to secure the inbuilt browser with a pin. This simple act of asking for help, even after three years, is a significant win for me.

My use of technology is a blend of both bubble wrap, in the form of accountability and screen time settings, and tightrope walking, requiring the same level of accountability. After three years, I still contend with an accusatory internal voice, personifying my internal shame. This voice needs to be dismissed so I can be present in the moment.

Early in my recovery, I encountered two worldviews. One seemed defeated, grateful just to survive, reciting mantras to get by. The other spoke of a “complete psychic change,” living the belief that “your best years lie ahead of you.” I aspired to the latter, never wanting a recovery that meant hiding under a rock while reciting the serenity prayer.

I am fortunate to retain the love and support of my partner, family, and friends. Despite losing a fair few things in the fire, which still hurt, I know I’m one of the lucky ones. However, this does not make me immune to life’s challenges.

My journey has emphasized prioritizing others and serving a greater cause. The program held me together in survival mode, but ongoing recovery requires making amends in all areas of life. I am rebuilding relationships, a career, financial standing, and facing the future with my partner, knowing that past events need not derail our lives.

Finding one’s narrative used to trigger me. When a well-meaning friend said over coffee it was great to see me finding my narrative, I recoiled, thinking I wasn’t spinning anything. But recovery isn’t about spinning; it’s about reclaiming our true selves.

Shame is the jailer that keeps the addict bound to their cell wall. By recovering our narrative, we dismiss distorted views and recover our true selves.

So having made it to my 3 year anniversary of hitting “rock bottom” and I would love to say I have it all figured out, in truth I have a great support network, and the ability to reflect, recognize and reach out. I feel very much that I’ve experienced psychic change but only in the sense I no longer believe life is about mastery and will power, rather its more surrender and being willing.

Step 11 is never a one and done thing, just like the other steps, we continue to take them, with that in mind my faith is like a tree, the God of my understanding and my higher power has a name, its the name above all names and I am so grateful that when I landed in the plastic chair city of the rooms I found that even there Christ met me and invited me back into the light.

Two things brought me through the darkest of moments, one was the step 9 promises and the other was The Jesus Prayer.

The letter to the newcomer closes with these words and they seem as relevant today as any other day.

We encourage you to…

… take it one day at a time… 

… be gentle with yourself… and

… keep coming back!