Summer 2006

My first summer in recovery. I’d gotten clean just a few months earlier (1/31/06), so I had maybe half my brain cells working again. I was still very new to living in recovery and up until that point, I’d taken the suggestion to steer clear of any romantic entanglements. I was about to find out firsthand why that suggestion can be a great idea for folks in early recovery.

So there was this girl. She was nice… and sexy… and fun… and wounded… and looking to be saved. We seemed to have a pretty natural connection. I thought, sure I can save her and talk about recovery and have some sexy times too. Why not? Everybody wins right? Wrong. Definitely wrong. After a week or two of hanging out, I found out that it wasn’t just me who was “saving her.” Turns out she was being saved by a handful of different fellows and at least one gal too.

I was rocked. Feelings were loud and intense and everywhere. Memories from the past resurfaced and started playing on repeat. It was a shit-storm on full blast. And I was not about it. I wasn’t ready to deal with this level of f*ckery. I wasn’t equipped to navigate this emotional minefield at this early stage in my recovery. I remember it clearly. I said to myself, “F*ck this, I’m getting high.”

The only problem was, I said it out loud. Outside a meeting. And one of my buddies heard. And he wasn’t having it.

We then spent the next four or five hours at a local diner. Me, him, his girlfriend, some other guys and gals in our network. Coffee and cigarettes and diner food and conversation. Some harsh truths. Some inappropriate humor. Some trash talking. Some laughing. Some crying. Some folks came for a coffee. Others stayed for a couple hours. For most of the night I still wanted to get high, but then at some point, well after midnight, I remember yawning and saying to my friend, “Okay, I’m tired... I just want to go to bed.”

My buddy drove behind me all the way to my folks’ house to make sure I got home okay. I parked, got out, gave my buddy a hug and then walked inside and passed out. Clean.

That was one of my first lessons in how valuable a community can be. Up until that point in my recovery I’d been doing almost everything I was instructed/suggested to. I was getting an A+ in recovery. And then all of a sudden – bam - none of the work I’d put in mattered. I was out of my depth. And I would have definitely drowned if it wasn’t for the relationships and community I had begun creating with the other folks I’d met in recovery.

Investing in community is huge and something that can save your ass. Having supportive, encouraging, and empowering relationships are essential for making any real progress in a process of change or transformation. At some point in the journey, you’re going to want to stop or lay down or turn around or quit. Community can carry you through those moments.