For those in the temperate climes, welcome to the butthole of winter. It’s cold, it’s gray, and it will sap whatever positivity you might have, if you let it. A friend of mine once told me that the winter is always the hardest time to stay sober. He told me that every time he relapsed, and there were several times, it had been during the winter. Well, with the winter now going strong and thoroughly starting to fuck with me, I can see some evidence of winter being the relapse season.

One of my best friends, we'll call him N, whom I met while in rehab and then lived in the same halfway house with, went back out in a bad, bad way. It started off with the classic “one more time” move. He came back from the usual job search time we were given at the house. We had to be out from 8 a.m. and could return no earlier than 3 p.m. or so. He came back late, when our group had already started, at around 6:30.

It was the day I was leaving the house and everyone said their official "goodbye' to me, but by the time he got there, it was over. I could tell something was up, but I just didn’t want to think he was high. Long story short, he admitted the next day, after my almost talking to the counselor about it, that he had indeed gotten high.

He made his pilgrimage to the West side, scored some bags and a jab, and went to town. He dodged the piss tests and played it cool for the next week. I didn’t hear from him much. He admitted, though perhaps I persuaded him, that the small amount of pleasure was not worth the next week of hassle and almost going back to jail.

Later however, I received a call from my roommate, who had been in rehab with both N and me, telling me that N was in jail. He had been picked up in Chicago at the scene of a head-on collision between his truck and another car. He was both drunk and high. He totaled the truck that he was so proud to have just gotten working again. N now sits in jail, ready for the court to send him to another rehab facility in the city, to start the process all over again.

Another friend of mine, a girl who I had dated briefly after rehab, seemed on the right path. Though she got pregnant by a friend of mine (who ended up being that same roommate I just mentioned, who went to rehab with all of the people thus far mentioned) and things had been rocky, she stayed positive. We even made a pact to quit smoking, which I have thus far kept. But recently, she found out that the baby had died in the womb. This precipitated in a break-up between her and my roommate, then in her relapse.

Though it seems she did it once, she is doing nothing to get back into recovery. Whereas she used to attend meetings all the time, she now pushes that issue aside in conversation. She has commenced to hang out with old friends, who may or may not get high. The situation has a certain stink to it. I attempted to accompany her to a meeting, purposely staying around town later than I normally would before making my hour commute back home. I was politely ditched. But I really was not surprised.

There are more people I know diving back into the icy waters. It’s disheartening, and it’s all new to me, so it’s hard to know what to make of it. I don’t want to get jaded, but I also don’t want to be so naïve and allow these very common occurrences to rip away a piece of me each time they happen. Some might hear this and think, “Why bother? These dumbasses did this to themselves, and in doing it all over again prove themselves to be even dumber –– they deserve what they get”.

Sure, I guess that’s an easy way to go through life without learning to truly care about others. But I have been on that end. I have been confronted, given a chance, and tossed it away to keep getting high. I know that at least for me, it had little to do with smarts, because I did some really clever things to stop myself from getting caught, to keep getting drugs after being monitored, to pass drug tests, etc.

For me it had everything to do with running on autopilot, pursuing only pleasure at the cost of everything else. It wasn’t until I was basically kicked in the balls by everyone around me, and the law, that I realized I couldn’t get a grip on the way I had been operating. But how do I convey the urgency to those around me? How do I get the people I have come to care about to see that they don’t have to give up –– that they can do this? At this point, I’m not sure. I have no answers except this: winter is fucking mean, it’s a time that is even harder for those already depressed and fighting.

I can say all I want that I don’t plan on going down, but that won’t make it so. I’ve heard my fair share of horror stories, and I don’t wish to repeat them. But I was surprised to hear that there is still some hubris out there, still some people who have managed to climb out of the shit, but are continuing to tempt the beast. A fellow in my outpatient therapy class is one such person.

He is, as all of us are, court mandated to be there. He has been sober 5 months, yet done all 12 steps and every weekend goes to the bar with his friends and drinks only water. He admittedly has PTSD and is under the stress of simultaneously finding a job and fighting a court case.

I found it odd that he is willing to walk back into a bar frequently when it was that same kind of place that landed him in his current situation. I asked him how, with so many other uncertainties in his life, he could throw one more uncertainty in the mix. He claimed confidence in himself and said that he was able to control himself. But he could not point out to me what exactly made him not able to control himself merely 5 months ago. It seems that the only thing that changed was having a program. But what match is that for your old friend, Jack Daniels, as he stares you dead in the face when all you want is to forget about your shit day?

I just wonder why one would leave that to chance? Really, it’s just not playing the odds. But that is the type of person that might just beat those odds, and if they do, more power to them. However, I still can’t swallow the idea of throwing yourself into a situation where the thing that tempts you most is constantly in your face. It seems like living the rest of my life is more important than just being able to “hang out” in a bar. I place no importance in that ability, it seems like pure hubris, pride before the fall. Some people need to feel cocky, but to me, it just doesn’t make sense. And I’ve seen it end with relapse too many times to even take this fellow’s claim seriously. Apologies for sounding crass, perhaps I am jaded after all.

So I guess if there’s one thing to take away from this whole rant I’ve just laid out, it’s that whatever us addicts usually do to stay sober, we need to go hardcore at right now. This seems to be the time when people start to drop like flies, and if I as an addict am to be of any help to anyone in need, I must be solid in my recovery. I must stay vigilant and never forget the place from whence I came.

Keep on keeping on, folks. And to steal a quote from the great Kevin Seconds: “Use your head, be aware, give….a….fuck!!!!!”


Disclaimer: This article is written from the point of view of one single addict. It is not intended to give any definitive answers to medical, psychological, or legal issues. Anyone having problems with addiction/alcoholism should contact either their doctor, psychologist, psychiatrist, nearest substance abuse treatment center, Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous hotline, or all of the aforementioned. Support can also be found at SG's own Sobriety Group

Well, folks, there was a quite a reaction to my first piece, and I can’t thank you enough for your interest in the article and its topic. It made me feel really good to see so many people interested in addiction, and to connect with those who are currently fighting it. That said, on to the proverbial meat and potatoes!

It came to my attention recently that outside of strong devotees to the AA and NA/CA programs, there is a large demographic of people for whom the idea of a higher power is problematic. The twelve steps lean heavily on the language of a higher power, and the concept itself is spoken of quite often by those in the recovery community. As with any system of deep self-searching, there will always be zealous people who interpret things in only one way and then insist their interpretation is as the only correct one. First of all, we need to accept the fact that those types of people will always be around. I found it a hell of a lot easier to work my own damn program of recovery when I stopped comparing my beliefs and interpretations to those of others in recovery. This applies to more than just recovery. I feel that it’s a life lesson. Unless a person is outwardly threatening you or others with their beliefs, there is no reason to pay credence to them. It is a waste of time and energy, both of which are in short supply these days.

The idea of spirituality is big in the twelve-step model of recovery. The second step involves admitting that a power greater than yourself can restore you to sanity. This, in and of itself, invokes no metaphysical conundrums. But the third step inserts that magic word that seems to divide the addict’s mind right at the start; God. The third step states: We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over the care of god as we understood him. Now, aside from the gender-biased language of that step, there exists the problem of the inclusion of that word….god. Ugh, right? Well, sure, I can definitely wax philosophical on all the things wrong with the classical notion of God, but to do that in recovery is to miss the point. The third step is basically a reminder that YOU ARE FUCKING INSANE, and your will was to GET FUCKED UP AT ALL COSTS! Why, if you are serious about recovery, would you NOT turn your will over to some other plan? Here’s the deal folks: forget the classical notion of god, in fact, forget the word Ñ I did. The point is not what IS the higher power, the point is YOU ARE NOT IT!!!! Got it? Good, let’s move on.

It’s not hard to find a “power greater than yourself.” If you actually pay attention, and I’m sure fellow columnist Brad Warner can agree with this, you have very little control of what goes on around you. You have a very small, pitiful amount of power over reality. So finding a higher power should not be problematic. I simply made the step from noticing that I can’t even control my car, the weather, or my own emotions flying at me Ñ to seeing that there is a group of people, with principles that can help me fight my problem, and I just have to give up my pride.

Simply put, the people at each meeting I attend are a power greater than myself. They are not in my control, and they offer a new will to which I can submit. They offer a plan that, if followed, leads pretty logically to a life much better than the one I had. Once I started thinking in terms of how my desires and actions fit in with the suggestions of AA and NA, it became apparent that my ego was quickly leaving me, and it felt fucking great! I found that carrying that huge ass ego around for as long as I did was just exhausting me. I started giving a shit about other people, I let my feelings out there, and I let people get to know me. I can’t tell you how valuable that was for me, the more transparent I became, the less I made my petty desires the motivation for my actions, the more I found myself at ease with pretty much everything.

When it comes to sharing in meetings, in front of a group, I do still shy away from using the word “god” and even avoid talking about a “higher power”. But when I am pressed to talk about the issue, I do admit that submitting to a higher power has made my life manageable, which is a solution to the admitted situation with the first step. I think that there is a happy medium that one can strike, one which lies between the zealots who constantly praise God and mention the deity at every chance, and the egomaniacs who refuse to recognize that their way fucked them up and will continue to do so.

To tell you the truth, I still don’t say the “Our Father” at the end of meetings. I feel no hatred toward those who do, nor am I protesting, I just don’t find that it works for me. But I tried it for a while. I gave it a go, I put my ego aside. That is the important part. Bottom line, addicts: we’re junkies, drunks, and fiends. We got fucked up, then fucked everything else up. Does it sound likely that we’re going to be able to run the show solo when it comes to making our lives right? I don’t buy it, not for a second. The best thing I ever did was realize that I have very little power, then submit to something that seems to have a lot of positive power. Just think about it. I encourage every addict to find their own way in recovery, but I also hope that they're smart about it. Don’t be afraid to admit you need help and guidance, because you do, and so do I. Let’s help each other, folks. Let’s turn or wills over, because based on what our wills got us before, I don’t think they’re really worth keeping anyway.

Until next time, stay positive, stay open-minded, and most importantly, stay sober!


Disclaimer: This article is written from the point of view of one single addict. It is not intended to give any definitive answers to medical, psychological, or legal issues. Anyone having problems with addiction/alcoholism should contact either their doctor, psychologist, psychiatrist, nearest substance abuse treatment center, Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous hotline, or all of the aforementioned. Support can also be found at SG's own Sobriety Group

My name is Mike, and I am an addict. I am currently in recovery and am making permanent changes to my life and my ways of thinking. I will never be able to be totally free from the disease of addiction, but I can always keep myself strong enough to keep it under arrest. I am writing this column because those in the recovery community — rehabs, AA, NA, CA, and Oxford Houses — saved my life. They saved me from a horrible, selfish and careless form of self-destruction. It is said often in the literature of recovery that we can only keep what we have by giving it away, and I've found it to be true. But a more accurate way to put it is that the more you share the things that helped you, the more people you can help, and the more people there will be there for you when you might need them. It all works synergistically, if you take part.

My purpose is not, however, to preach. This column is addressed to everyone who can read. Addiction is a lethal phenomenon that plagues our society. It does not discriminate based on race, gender, creed, economic status, or sexual orientation. It has the power to make the rich poor, the educated utterly stupid, the talented almost unable, and the positive all but hopeless. Simply put, it kills without any regard. But it can be combated, through knowledge. The addict must come to know themselves and their thought patterns, and society must get to know what addiction brings. It is on that latter point that I can elaborate a bit. I can do this by doing what has helped so many addicts and alcoholics before me; telling my story.

I was born into the comfy world of white middle class America. I attained straight As through grammar and high school, had a good group of friends and stayed away from the party and drug scene. I went off to college, and on the day I arrived, proclaimed my vehement opposition to drugs and alcohol; I became a "straight edge."

This mindset stayed with me into Graduate School. I got through my first year there before deciding that the intoxication-free lifestyle was not for me. It didn't take long until I started drinking frequently. It went from social drinking to sneaking bottles of coke and gin into class. After a few months, I was prescribed Vicodin by a doctor whose clinic dispensed printed-out prescriptions. Knowing Photoshop as well as I did, I got the bright idea to start altering the prescriptions and turning them into various pharmacies.

Within a week, I was off to the races. From there, it was a blur of painkillers and Benzodiazapines. I soon cut off contact with my family, friends, peers, and teachers. In November of 2006, I was arrested on 10 counts of forgery and possession of a controlled substance. I am currently in the court system for this offense. I continued to use, finding other drugs with which to get around drug tests, the drinking got worse, and I started running school and my relationship. I became verbally abusive, completely selfish, and an utterly negative bastard.

In April of 2008, I was finally caught up in my lies by the court and placed into jail and then inpatient treatment. I stayed there for almost 90 days, until I went to a halfway house, where I have resided for more than 3 months. I have lost a wife, two children through miscarriage, gotten kicked out of graduate school, and accumulated a vast amount of debt. Trust in me is a rare thing now, but slowly rebuilding.

Simply put, I threw away most of the good things in my life, to pursue substances that would only make me feel horrible hours after I took them. This is insanity, pure and simple. I have no power over pills, the bottle, or any other substance that alters my mind. Once I am under the influence, all I can do is want more. This is my burden, but I bear it with pride, for it has allowed me to drop all selfish pride and start becoming a better person.

Though this is just my story, it contains the same self-centered, dishonest, and utterly crazy obsessive-compulsive actions that exist in every addict's story. This common thread is what makes addiction so simple a thing, but yet so tough to beat. It is right there in your face, but you cannot reason with it.

So why is this important to you? Chances are, you know or have known someone who is an addict or dealing with addiction in some form. And the sad fact is that both the addict and those who are affected by another's addiction need all the help that they can get. This doesn't mean going way out of your way, but it does mean understanding and attempting some basic empathy.

The addict did not choose to become addicted, but he/she is responsible for their recovery. Asking the question, "Why are you doing this to yourself?" is the wrong question, because there really is no answer. It is not the why that is important, but the how. It is how the addict will change his or her life that should be examined.

That answer is not always the same, but for almost any successful story, it involves some kind of support network: friends, family, NA or AA, or a form of substance abuse treatment. Sometimes it will take all of these — I know for me it did, and I was not anywhere near the worst case on the spectrum.

This, however is just the tip of the iceberg on this topic. As I go along in this column, there will be much more to talk about. But without discourse, without people being engaged, there is only so much I can say. So please, feel free to ask questions. I've seen a lot of things and heard a lot of stories. I currently live with addicts and meet more every day, so I have a lot of answers to a lot of questions. Remember, knowledge is power, arm yourselves.

Until next time, stay positive, stay open-minded, and most importantly, stay sober!

Disclaimer: This article is written from the point of view of one single addict. It is not intended to give any definitive answers to medical, psychological, or legal issues. Anyone having problems with addiction/alcoholism should contact either their doctor, psychologist, psychiatrist, nearest substance abuse treatment center, Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous hotline, or all of the aforementioned.