Quite Simply, I’m Not Alone
Recovery’s Fellowship Dispels Addiction’s Isolation
January 22, 2010
Today, I’m reflecting on the fact that I’m not alone in my addiction. I have the support of my fellowship and my sponsor, and the guidance of my Higher Power. The First Step of my program of recovery reminds me of this when it says, “We admitted we were powerless over our addiction and that our lives had become unmanageable.” Note the pronouns “we” and “our”.
Before recovery, I saw everything through the lens of my addiction. It didn’t matter how fulfilled I appeared to be at any given time. Whatever goodness was gained in my life was ultimately tarnished by the addiction. Before I realized I had a problem with pornography, my mood would wax and wane horribly. For a time, I seemed at least externally able to deal with family and friends fairly well. But internally, my disposition was stormy; wracked with self-loathing and rage. Eventually, my acting out did directly affect my most trusted friendships, my marriage, my career, and my parenting. And that was a very lonely place to be in life.
I withdrew and became increasingly anxious about the secrets I harbored and the lies I utilized to keep my addiction intact. I couldn’t trust myself or my loved ones, and I struggled to come to the realization that my addiction was tainting every aspect of my life.
The fellowship I’ve found through recovery is very important to me because it’s teaching me to trust again. And it gently insists that I be rigorously honest. I am honest as I share my ups and my downs with other recovering addicts who have pledged to do the same. I have never been as unguarded as I’ve been in the weekly meetings I attend. There is no judgment in the room where we meet, and there is a seemingly infinite capacity for sympathy. An unbelievable weight lifts off me at the door because once inside, I know I can speak the unspeakable. I have been at my most pained before the fellowship. I have also been able to share little victories, like when I achieve a sobriety milestone.
We share a part of each other’s history inside the room where we meet and so, we share of each other. I have come to feel like the program and all it entails isn’t just a lifestyle choice, but is my life. So much of my addiction revels in isolation that it’s easy to forget the help at my disposal via a meeting or even a phone call. This sense of fellowship gives me hope and calm; it reminds me that the group I attend meetings with is an exemplar of my Higher Power. And as a result of understanding that, I realize that I am not alone.
