I am the poster child for procrastinating my life away. At 29, I’ve accomplished basically nothing besides my sobriety, and giving birth to an absolutely amazing little boy who has the world at his fingertips.
Regrets are huge in the addiction recovery lifestyle, causing most addicts to continue using – the weight of the guilt overpowering the will to become clean and start fresh.
Honestly, I do have some regrets (who the
hell doesn’t?), but mostly I am grateful for where, and who I am now. If it wasn’t for my crazy, horrible past, I wouldn’t be the strong-minded woman that I am today. My struggles and past experiences are a part of me, no matter how shitty they were, no matter how hard I wish that they weren’t, they aren’t going anywhere. Personally, I find it’s better to embrace them then try to fight against something that cannot be changed.
At 17, I was in a tragic car accident which left 2 of my friends permanently disabled.. I had survivors guilt for a long time, since mentally, I was fine. Or so I thought. I’ve broken more bones than most. I’ve fallen off cliffs, I’ve been homeless, and I’ve been in more trouble with the law than any respectable mother should ever be. I’ve lost friends to overdoses, to freak accidents, and to suicide because of their addictions… It’s a wake-up call every single time.
The turning point of my pointless existence happened when I found God – not when I hit rock bottom. I had hit that years ago. Shit, I lived there for 6 years. For a long time I resented what happened in my life, and couldn’t follow someone who was supposed to be my ‘savior’, supposed to ‘shield me from evil’. Where was he when I needed him? THAT was the
damn question that continuously went unanswered.
When I was in inpatient, I was withdrawing so horribly I couldn’t sleep, my arms and legs were restless, my skin crawling constantly, and I was so
damn exhausted from the chase.
The chase of getting the money everyday to get what I needed, the chase of finding the drug, the chase of that initial feeling of carelessness that you experienced when you first started. I needed something else in my life. Something was definitely missing.
I laid there thrashing, and looked over at the night stand and saw the Bible. In a last attempt to get some sort of sleep for sanity, I begged Him to take away the pain and to help me get some peace. Some
fucking rest. I pleaded, I sobbed. I snotted. I have never felt so low and pathetic as I did that night.
Amazingly, a few moments later, I was fast asleep – dried tears stained my face, and when I woke, I was still gripping the Bible like it was the hand of God itself… If that’s not a sign I needed faith in my life, I don’t know what is.
Now, I wake up every morning with a new found sense of ambition. This inner light that I can literally feel with every breath I take..
damn time, because I’ve been in the dark for far too long; it is indeed my time to shine.