Until very recently, I never understood how we keep our sobriety by “giving it away…” as I have heard repeatedly shared in recovery meetings. But as I have worked with my family member who is trying to get well in a treatment centre, I get it. As I open my heart and share my own pain from my terrifying drinking days, we connect on a level I would never have dreamed possible. Truth spoken by someone who has been there is saturated with an authenticity that cannot be ignored. And as I listen to her story, and I see the pain, confusion and terror in her eyes, I see myself in her 17 months ago TODAY (YAY). I intimately know the meaning behind the desperation in her eyes. It is me, once upon a time. And as I share my experience, strength and hope with her it dawns on me how important my sobriety and the life I have built is to me. I would not trade it for the world. I could never have imagined how vibrant and beautiful my life could be without wine. And I want it for her and for all who still suffer. No scarcity here. There is a beautiful life waiting for anyone willing to take a risk by putting the glass down and becoming the human they were meant to be. And as I reach out, remember where I was, express gratitude for my recovery and hold space for her as she tries to make sense out of her story, my sobriety is strengthened. One recovering alcoholic talking with another. It works and I am so grateful it does….
I think so too. That’s why I continue to blog. Maybe someone will hear something in my story that might bring them hope.
Absolutely!
Wonderful and so heartwarming to think of all you are sharing with one another. Also, congratulations on 17 months! Wah-hoo!
Hey thanks! Feels amazing 🙂
This is such a lovely post. I don’t mean that I find your cousin’s struggle lovely; my heart goes out to her. But your works and words and experience are beautiful. It’s amazing how gorgeous and rich life actually is once one is out of the alcohol trap. You really see it when you’re next to someone who is still in that tar pit of desperation. I hope your cousin finds her way- I’ll bet you are like a beacon of light and hope to her right now.
“…that tap pit of desperation…” so vey well put… I just hope she surrenders and gets well this time. Many don’t sadly 😦