From the Grave to Gratitude
Tags: Alcoholics Anonymous, Recovery, Gratitude Journal, Addiction Recovery, Mourning

Hi everybody  My name is Kara and I am an alcoholic.

I just recently came back from a relapse. I had completely pulled away from AA and everyone in my life in order to self-isolate. I felt ashamed and embarrassed like I would be viewed as weak, or a failure in AA and in life in general. I realize in no way this is true and actually the complete opposite of how I would have been received by others, but when you’re in that negative headspace, logic doesn’t work against the addictive mind’s negative critiquing. That voice in my head relentlessly attacks and does everything in its power to keep me stagnant in my active addiction. I am 7 days sober today and having a lot of trouble focussing and processing my thoughts, so I am writing everything I need to say regarding this topic. This is probably the only time I’ll have truly been honest for once in my goddamn life, so bear with me please, I swear there’s a point here regarding gratitude, but to get there I first need to begin in the darkness of my relapse.

September 18th is the day I decided to make a change and enter rehab. This was my first time in 10 years that I actually reached for help. To this day I sort of question my motives in going at the time, but it did lead me to where I am today. I was dedicated and determined. It was a 5-week program and I was just, “getting it”, everything was clicking. I ate, slept and breathed recovery. I felt on top of the world. 2 weeks in something happened which forced me into making a decision, leave rehab and go to work so you can pay my bills, or stay in rehab and come out to chaos. I felt grounded, I had this. My addiction no longer had that power over me after 2 whole weeks lol I stand by my decision in leaving, but it was one of the hardest decisions of my life. It did however lead me to my sponsor Jenn which is pretty awesome.

I joined an online outpatient programme that meets on zoom for a few hours mon-Fri, working full-time, and doing AA meetings. The first two weeks were fine. I felt energized. I felt fantastic. I fucking had this! I was working and doing AA meetings while I was running 100 errands, cooking dinner, eating healthy, meal prepping, basically being Martha fricken Stuart, journaling, doing my prayers, trying to make friends. I was doing it all and pretty fucking well I might add. That candle started to burn out extremely quickly. 1 XL Double double a day turned into 2 turned into 3 turned into 4. But hey at least it’s not that other stuff, right? This will be my new means of energy to be the person I SHOULD be able to be. I started missing meetings cause work or going to Walmart to get a soap dish was more important. I started staying up later and sleeping less. I’d rush out in the mornings and not making my bed or even trying to connect with my higher power. He’ll understand. I’ll do it later…I didn’t. I knew I was burning out quicker than I could keep up with, but I didn’t want to be defeated. When I did go to group or a meeting, I would share something random on my mind, but I wasn’t telling the full truth. The next two weeks got worse every day and bad things kept happening on top of it. My car kept breaking down costing me almost 2k in repairs which meant I had to work more. A bunch of other stuff I can’t quite remember kept coming up and slapping me right in the face. What I do remember about those days is that every night I would have a sigh of relief thinking, I’m still sober, this will pass. It gets better. I survived today…. I had survived….All I was doing was going with the motions and merely “surviving” with no real foundation, only my moxy, wit and Tim Hortons double-doubles were holding me together at this point lol

It was a Thursday. It was a bad stressful day filled with chaos and me taking on the entire world all by myself. I was reaching my limit. I hit a meeting while on the road and I remember sharing and just yelling about how pissed I was with life and how this isn’t fair. I got home later that night and did the same sigh of relief. I had made it to the end of the day sober. Now I can rest. I opened my phone to check FB quick and there it was. My friend had died. What a way to find out huh? It seems that’s how we get news of a loved one passing now is on our news feed. I cried. I went to sleep. I woke up and went to work. The next 4 days were weird. I kept a smile on my face and didn’t even realize I had told no one. I walked into work and my coworkers greeted me, ‘how are you today?” “I'm great! Livin’ the dream!” — your friend just died last night. Work’s done I need to get groceries for dinner — she’s gone. I get home to have my bf kiss me and ask how my day was. ‘I’m a little tired but I’m okay.” You’re not okay, your friend is fucking dead and she’s not coming back. I went to sleep. No, I didn’t. I was haunted by nightmares and images of her face coupled with cold sweats all night. I was living a double life filled with dishonesty and a crater-sized ball of stress constantly growing in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Whatever this was it wasn’t living, I got up and went back to work again.

The 4th day after my friend's passing, I noticed a co-worker swigging from a bottle in her bag every so often. — She’s fucking dead, everyone around you keeps dying and there’s nothing you can do about it. Life still goes on like it never happened and you’re going to die just the same way. It doesn’t get better it only gets worse and you might as well just fucking accept this is your future and who you really are. Nobody cares. You don’t care. Just fucking do it already…

“Hey, what are u drinking?”

She laughs and says, “water”…

”can I have some “water”?”

“sure, I only have on sip left but you can have it”

I’m telling you guys, that one sip felt INCREDIBLE. I could FINALLY breathe. The pain was taken away just a little bit. ( I would like to add that before this decision I was googling all day if 1 shot was a relapse and convincing myself it was not. That’s probably a pretty big sign to call my sponsor immediately lol) However…FIFTEEN minutes later pan over to the eager little beaver that I am insisting we get some more…and just like that, I was gone. It took me only a matter of 2 hours to get to the bottom of that bottle and back to the beginning of where I left off on September 17th. The next couple of weeks were mostly spent alone in my bed sleeping and consisted of one more night of drinking. That night caused me to miss her funeral and my only real chance to say goodbye. That was 8 days ago.

It’s only been a couple of days since I’ve been back in the program and last night, I went to my first meeting in weeks. Not gonna lie it wasn’t this amazing eye-opening experience and it was pretty boring and dull. I shared about how I’m back and after the meeting, someone came up to me and asked how bad my relapse was and I said, “well I only drank twice.” (mind you guys, I was throwing up blood all day after the second time) We ended our conversation there and I was wondering the whole drive home why getting back into the program and back into recovery was so hard. I finally understood what it meant when people say, “I have another drink in me, but not another recovery”. It’s a lot of fucking work to pick back up all the pieces. But if I only drank 2 nights why was this so difficult for me? Then it happened, I had an AH HAH moment and immediately called my sponsor. I had relapsed weeks before I even picked up that first drink. I self-isolated, I didn’t tell the whole truth when I spoke to people closest to me and I wasn’t sharing in groups or reaching out to anyone. I kept pulling back further and further each day. I was lying to my sponsor telling her I was great and that’s if I even talked to her at all… I’d act like I had this when I in fact did NOThave this. Picking up that drink was the ultimate last straw of my already 3-week exhausting emotional relapse. So here’s to the gratefulness bit. Having this realization made me so much more grateful for this program and the people in it. If it wasn’t for AA I don’t think I would have as much self-awareness as I do right now, and this is just the beginning for me. I have a newfound appreciation for my sponsor and what her role is in my life and why it’s so important to reach out to her and be honest. Cause in those moments when shit really hits the fan, when my mind is in self-destruction and I can’t see two feet in front of me, she can. This isn’t a program you are able to work alone, and I finally understand why. Believe it or not, I am grateful for that last month of absolute hell I endured because without it I don’t know that I would have fully understood what this program means and how to work it. My journey moving forward is not going to be easy, I know this, but I also know I’m not on this journey alone. This program guides me and opens my eyes to see gratitude in places I wouldn’t be able to see on my own. And for that, I am eternally grateful to every one of you in these rooms who always accept me with open arms. I am grateful I am no longer alone.