Whispering Wyrd

For whatever reason I’ve seen more people giving up in the last two weeks than I have since I began recovery myself. Those of us in recovery communities see it happen, and it’s heartbreaking because we’re mostly powerless to stop it. We can’t force anybody to get clean and sober and we can’t force anybody to stay clean and sober. We can’t make decisions for another person. All we can do is share our experiences and hope they help.

Just today someone in one of the recovery groups I’m active in asked if it ever really gets better. That question gets asked a lot. They asked because they’re deep in withdrawal and had listened to an online doctor who said that some people never fully recover because of long term or even permanent brain damage. Cases like that do exist. It would be dishonest to pretend they don’t. But those stories are not everybody’s story, they aren’t even the majority’s story.

Most people recover and most people heal. Also, most people eventually find that life without substances is far better than they ever imagined possible. That doesn’t mean the journey is easy though. Some substances are far more difficult to come off than others. Alcohol and benzodiazepines, especially after long term use, are serious business and should never be taken lightly.

Getting off benzos was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, ever. There were times when I was convinced the damage to my brain and nervous system would be permanent. Times when I was terrified that the anxiety, confusion, dizziness, insomnia, and physical pain would just be my new “normal”.

My doctors told me it wasn’t permanent but there were lots of times I didn’t believe them. But they were right. Today my life is better than it has ever been. Not just better than before withdrawal, better than ever.

That’s one of the reasons I write about recovery, because I want people who are in the middle of that storm to know there is hope, even if they can’t see it yet. From conversations I’ve had recently I think a lot of the people talking about giving up are hitting the worst part of withdrawal and just getting to that point where they say “I can’t do this anymore.”

I completely understand that feeling. There were so many times I wanted to quit the fight. At my worst I couldn’t even read because reading triggered dizziness and nausea. I couldn’t watch TV. I couldn’t play games. I couldn’t focus long enough to enjoy anything. Since reading has always been one of my greatest loves, losing the ability to read was devastating. I seriously wondered if it was worth it.

But those symptoms eventually, if slowly, passed. The things I worried would last forever didn’t last forever. When somebody says they’re giving up, I a lot of times don’t know what to say in that exact moment. Sometimes there just aren’t any perfect words. I usually just hope they’ll come back to the next meeting, make another post, or stick around long enough to hear from people who have walked the road ahead of them.

I don’t claim to have all the answers. I’ve never made that claim. But what I do have is experience. I know what it’s like to feel sick all the time during detox. I know what it’s like to be completely unable to sleep. I know what it’s like to not be able to eat, think clearly, or function normally. And I know what it’s like to fail.

Before I finally got clean, I tried and failed multiple times. Even after moving here to New Mexico, this place that has been so deeply healing for me, the process of detox and recovery was still the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

There were times I seriously didn’t know if I would survive it. People say “One day at a time.” For me it was sometimes one hour at a time or even just one minute at a time. But those minutes added up, the hours added up. And slowly but surely those days added up too.

One thing addiction and recovery have taught me is that there are times when the only way out is through. There comes a point where you stop looking for an escape and just keep putting one foot in front of the other because you’ve made the decision to keep going no matter what.

So if you’re reading this and you’re in the middle of withdrawal, this is what I want to say… Please don’t give up! I know it’s awful right now and I know it hurts. Physically hurts. I know you’re exhausted and I know you’re scared. I know you’re wondering if you’ll ever feel normal again. I know this because I asked those same questions myself.

What I can tell you is that the way you feel today is not necessarily the way you’ll feel six months from now, a year from now, or two years from now.

Recovery has a way of slowly giving the good things back. Things like your health and your clarity. Your relationships. Your ability to enjoy the simple things again. It gives you a life better than the one you had before.

I’ve known people whose lives were cut short by addiction. Recovery is no game. Addiction is not a character flaw, a moral failure, or a lack of willpower. It’s a serious illness that destroys lives every single day. That’s why I write about recovery. Partly for myself, so I can remember where I’ve been, but mostly for the person who might be suffering right now and wondering if it’s worth continuing on. It is! Even when you can’t see that yet. Maybe especially then.

Amituofo
~Buck