This blog is run by our clients, they have been given the freedom to write about whatever they want! It is a real, raw look into recovery and beyond.

The West

The sunrise on the Atlantic is nice
But the sunset on the Pacific is nicer.
West.
Westward bound, back to the hills,
Back to the mountains, back to the trees, back to the ocean.
The ocean. Sparkling light with yellow,
Just a mirror for the sun.
The west.
Back to palm trees and silicone bodies, back to innovation and
Creativity, back to entertainment, back to tacos and pastel,
Back to the City of Angels. My only friend, together we cry
And we rejoice.
Back to family, back to friends, back to sand.
The west.
Back to recovery. Back to the old life, back to a new life, back to the familiar,
The west.
Back to the future,
Back to home.

– Anonymous

What is it like to be sober?

For me, being sober is synonymous with being alive, because when I was actively using, I was not living. Those days were defined by emptiness, either blank due to drunkenness or the haze of recovering from a hangover. It was a life of inaction. My mind was overrun with thoughts of self-pity, self-loathing over the life I led, the relationships I lost, the parts of myself I cut away in pursuit of using. My thoughts were scattered, panicked, concerned with only my latest mistake or my next high. I felt lifeless.

Today, things are different. Today marks my 103rd day of sobriety. I am clear headed, healthy, motivated. I wake up each morning with a list of goals I hope to accomplish within the day, and go to sleep with another list of things I feel grateful for. I feel my emotions and manage them through expression, by sharing them with others or writing them down. I no longer feel the need to silence my mind with substances. There is an energy I feel now which is difficult to describe, but which seems to be the real, honest filling in of that hole in my chest that I poured alcohol into for so long. Today, I feel alive, and I want to feel the same way tomorrow.

– Anonymous

Dear past self,

Chill out. There’s no reason to be the person going the hardest all the time. There’s no reason to go a million miles an hour when everyone else is going at a steady pace. There’s no reason to rush. You let drugs take over your life when you had everything going for you. Luckily nothing too bad happened but you lost a lot of people along the way. People you had been friends with for years or people you had fun with. You couldn’t hold a relationship because you put drugs ahead of every guy. Even though those feelings hurt, don’t beat yourself up too badly. You ended up in a good space with exactly who you needed when you needed them. You’re learning who your truest friends are.

You never needed any substances in the first place but I understand why you went there. It was easier to live life out of your head but the costs really outweighed all the benefits, in the end. Laying in bed all day depressed, on drugs, is just not the way you have to live. Today it feels difficult to live without substances but there’s a sense of clarity and the feeling that a haze has been lifted. It’s certainly not easy, but it is worth it. Cherish yourself and be kind to yourself.

– Anonymous

Dear addiction,

I have met you so many times, I cannot remember the first. You’re a shapeshifter. I can never recognize you, but whenever we find each other, you give me that same familiar feeling. I see you in the eyes of all the lovers I’ve left behind for others. I see you in dimebags, in capsules, in bottles, in rocks. I see you in the slits on my thighs. You wear a beautiful skin, but it’s wrapped around dilapidated bones.

Do you remember how we used to dance? We didn’t need food or sleep. We especially didn’t need help from anyone. It was just me and you under the red light, feeling good until we didn’t. Towards the end we really didn’t.
You were so lonely, and that loneliness was contagious. It made me lonely, made the people I love most feel lonely. You infected everyone and I’m the one that has to remedy the aftermath.

The thing is, I don’t want to let go of you. You have that familiarity, that seductive way of speaking. When you tell me what to do, it’s all I want to do. I’ve tried so hard to compromise with you. All I want is for us to live in harmony but you refuse to listen to my side. You’ve made me thin and weak and you’ve made yourself so grand, but you’ve become too heavy and I can’t carry you anymore.

I know you’re angry with me right now. You’ve asked what happened to all of the sleepless nights we used to spend together.
“Please turn on the red light,” you beg.

You tell me I need you. You love me. I’m lost without you. We are one in the same. You pride yourself on mortgaging a permanent residence in my mind, and that you have.

You’re not all wrong, I am lost without you, but we are not one in the same. I might be lost but I don’t need a map, I’ve got this big blue book to show me the way.

I don’t love you anymore, but I will never forget you. I can’t ever forget you.

– Anonymous

What is it like to be sober?

For me, being sober is synonymous with being alive, because when I was actively using I was not living. My days in active use were defined by emptiness– either blank due to drunkenness or the haze of recovering from a hangover. It was a life of inaction. My mind was overrun with thoughts of self pity, self hatred over the life I led, the relationships lost, the parts of myself I cut away in pursuit of use. My thoughts were scattered, panicked, concerned only with my later mistake or my next high. I felt lifeless.

Today, things are different. Today marks my 103rd day of sobriety. I am clear headed, healthy, motivated. I wake up each morning with a list of goals I hope to accomplish that day, and go to sleep with another list of things that I feel grateful for. I feel my emotions and manage them by sharing them with others or writing them down. I no longer feel the need to silence my mind with substances. There is an energy I feel now which is difficult to describe, but which seems to be the real, honest filling in of that hole in my chest that I poured alcohol in to for so long. Today, I feel alive, and want to feel the same tomorrow.

– Anonymous