One Step Closer...

I can TOTALLY relate to the picture of the runner above. Mentally and (somehow) physically exhausted. Stumbling, but falling across the finish line FACE FIRST. The third semester of my MSW is in the books, and it appears that I'll (miraculously) get to hold on to my 4.0 GPA! I would probably go as far to say that this has been my favorite semester, getting to experience my first practicum as well as going through a class in a subject matter that I had never really considered as possible career path... until now. I've been pretty focused on the idea of a career that, while giving myself other opportunities, mainly focuses on working with people struggling with substance abuse/addiction issues. The course I completed was "theory, practice and evaluation with families and groups." I wasn't too intrigued by the group portion, but I was surprisingly interested in the family portion and learned a lot. The professor was a total ball-buster, but she was absolutely amazing. I don't want to toot my own horn or anything, but I think I was her favorite. Toot toot.

OKC Metro Alliance and Firstep worked with me and they created an employment-based practicum where I was able to complete my practicum hours while staying on the job. It was SUPER nice because it made it possible where I wasn't having to "work" extra hours to get through practicum. It didn't seem like much at first, but I realized later how much I learned and accomplished through this semester's practicum work at Firstep. I was able to see a lot of different perspectives and angles on how a facility like this is run and how a facility like this COULD be run.

All in the meanwhile, the world continued to turn. I'd love to be able to say that our situation is exponentially better since I last posted in May... but it hasn't been. COVID still continues to rage. We had just turned a corner and started to maybe see the light at the end of the tunnel. Rather than pressing on and getting this pandemic behind us, people took that as a sign that we were all clear and should probably go ahead and open back up. In most areas of the country that numbers are just as bad, if not worse, as when this whole ordeal began. Dumb people around the world actually argue with scientists about the legitimacy of this pandemic, whether or not masks help (duh), and how we as a people should respond. So frustrating.

Shortly after my last post, there were a string of horrid incidents involving police brutality which ended in the needless murders of black people. When an unarmed George Floyd was handcuffed and basically suffocated, it seemed like that set off something that had been simmering under the surface for many years. "Black Lives Matter" became a household phrase. Protests erupted across the country, including several very uneasy protests here in Oklahoma City. People were angry. People demanded change. But this time seems different. Usually, when these things have happened in the past, there are protests and rallies... but eventually it kinda goes away. Here we are, three months later, and there are STILL protests across the country. People are still angry and they are still demanding change. Politicians and the people in power are slow to make that change it seems, and people are going to remember that come November. This topic deserves a post of its own, and I didn't make one, because I believe that I needed more to just sit back and learn. As a white male, I don't really need to jump the forefront and share my opinion. 

I continue to count my blessings as life at home throughout 2020 has been mostly positive. Lots of little bumps and what-not, but we've persevered. I've remained employed throughout this whole ordeal. Megan has too. We've continued to get settled into our new little house together and have a nice routine and way of life worked out. My parents have managed to stay healthy, albeit probably a little stir-crazy since they mainly quarantine to stay safe. Even though I already have everything turned in, my semester officially ends tomorrow. I'll have a nice two-week downtime in which Megan and I are planning on taking a MUCH needed vacation. We're going to take a road-trip up into Colorado. We'll spend SOME time in Denver, but a good portion of time will be spent up in the mountains, staying socially distant and enjoying the scenery. It'll hopefully be relaxing and a great time! I'll need it to fill up my emotional/spiritual/mental/physical "gas tank" before the next semester starts on August 24th! Maybe I can plop out a couple more post in between now and then!

An Attitude of Gratitude...

TWO years. 24 Months. 104 Weeks. 730 Days. Over 17,000 Hours! Happy "Birthday" to meeeeeee!!!!!!

At any given time, in the Oklahoma City metro area, you can walk into one of the local Alcoholics Anonymous clubhouses and find a meeting being held on the topic of "gratitude." I think the number of gratitude meetings increases tenfold during the month of November, probably to coincide with Thanksgiving and the beginning of the holiday season. Some in recovery absolutely love gratitude meetings, while others absolutely despise them. While I don't see the point in loathing the meetings, I guess I could understand their being a point in time where I would be like "meh. Don't tell me what to do. If I'm cranky, let me be cranky! I have nothing to be grateful for!" Fortunately, I'm not in one of those moods right now, nor have I been in quite some time! Life has been just one big steaming pile of change here lately, but it's all good. It's not easy, but it's good. Plus, by the time November comes around, I have PLENTY to be grateful for...

Work, work work!
Shortly after Labor Day, it started to become pretty impossible to ignore the fact that I needed to start looking elsewhere for work. I needed a bump in pay, since I'll be moving out in March. I also needed to find a job that had a little more flexibility with the hours, since I'll start working on practicum hours this summer. For those reasons, and a few others, I started the job hunt once again. It didn't take too long before some potentials popped up. Within a few weeks, I had a job offer from DHS... AND a job offer from Men's Firstep as their new program coordinator. Although the position with DHS definitely paid more, my heart told me to take the position with Firstep. I turned in my resignation and started working full time for OKC Metro Alliance (Firstep) on October 21, 2019.

We're three weeks in and I absolutely love it. I get to work directly with the guys and help them maneuver through the program and they help me on a daily basis by reminding me what it was like to be a client/resident of Firstep. You're either one of those clients that is HUNGRY for sobriety, willing to do anything you can to get it or you're not. The only difference between where I was and where I am now is that I need to work with those "not" clients and meet them where they are. I can't make them WANT sobriety, but I can show them that it is achievable and it has some pretty kick-ass results.

School Daze
So there obviously has been something keeping me pretty occupied for the last two months (since I haven't written anything in that time) and you would be a PRETTY good guesser if you said that the prime culprit of what gobbles up my time is SCHOOL. I was enrolled in nine hours (three classes) this first semester. It doesn't sound like a whole lot, but... damn. Between work, school and "other (everything else in life), it takes some pretty creative juggling to make it all jive. Overall, I'd say I'm moderately successful. I have work down and I can definitely fit school in there, but it is satisfying that "other" category that is proving to be a bitch. I just don't have enough time in the day! There's "me" time, relationship time, sobriety time, family time... all of that. Ugh. I'm workin' on it.

ANYWAYS... school is going great. I absolutely love my classes and I feel like I'm learning a LOT. They aren't wasting your time with any filler classes, they are just going straight for the juicy stuff. They are teaching us EXACTLY what we need to do to get our license and get out there and WORK! The subject matter, while challenging, is exactly what I love. The work is difficult and time-consuming, but it makes me think "man, I KNOW that I'm going into the right field" on a daily basis. This first semester is nearing the end, and it looks QUITE possible that I'll make straight A's. I just have to keep up the work until December 6!

If all of those puzzle pieces fall perfectly into place over the next two years, I'm really hoping that the "school" part of life and the "work" part of life just kind of meld together. I really hope that I can take my degree and I apply it to working with Metro Alliance and I can just kind of continue to "grow up" within this organization and stay here after graduation. That's the ideal situation anyway...

It's the Holiday Season (hoop-de-do and dickery dock...)
...and don't forget to hang up your sock! Sorry, I didn't mean to spontaneously start typing Christmas lyrics, but I JUST CAN'T HELP IT!!! Despite the mindless rigmarole of daily life, I absolutely love the holiday season. Especially now that I'm in somewhat of a position to be able to afford SOME sort of presents for my family. Even with the frustration/confusion of the who's, what's, when's and where's, it usually has a tendency to work itself out. Thanksgiving will be new this year, I'll be going up to Tulsa with Megan and having turkey day with her fam. I'll be off on Black Friday, but I doubt I do a whole bunch of anything special. Christmas Eve will consist of the "normal" holiday get-together with my fam. I think we're having it at Denise's... which was fun last year. Meg and I might have a little surprise up our sleeves. Christmas Day is also the usual, presents and breakfast in the morning and then I'll go see a movie with Ma and Nicky. What will we see? Who knows. I'm going to try and push for "1917." I haven't even gotten far enough to think about what in the world new year's includes... But I know everything will work out! I know I'm not super wealthy and life isn't PERFECT, but this is definitely where that "gratitude" month starts playing into everything. We (or I) have it pretty damn awesome, especially compared to the rest of the world. It's DEFINITELY amazing compared to how I was or where I was this time two years ago. This brings me to the next topic...

It's my Birthday (and I'll cry if I want to?)
By this time on November 13, 2017, the proverbial shit had already hit the fan and I was (probably?) laying on a cot at the Public Inebriate Alternative (aka the Drunk Tank) in Oklahoma City. My emotions spanned the entire spectrum from indifference to anger to giving up and finally to complete surrender. I'm fortunate that I had a family that was still willing to come and pick me up, even after the endless amounts of shit that I had pulled. We had a brief and stern, yet compassionate conversation when we got home. Then we went to bed, not knowing what the future would bring.

I was fortunate to have a girlfriend that didn't run for the hills when she found out that I had been keeping a not-so-little secret from her for about six months. These people stood by my side and helped me take the next steps from TRC and then on to long-term treatment at Firstep. Six months of ups and downs and struggles and victories. "Graduating" from Firstep and going back out into the "real world." Rebuilding my life. Working. Going back to school. GRADUATING school. Going BACK to school. Making the return to Firstep as staff instead of a client. All of it was possible because of brutal honesty with a police officer who decided to show me a little bit of mercy and turn right down one street instead of turning left onto another. Then I decided to keep my promise to Officer Loggins and I didn't pick up a drink on the 14th. I kept fighting and started to string days together.

Honestly, day 730 doesn't really feel a whole lot different than day 700. I'm excited and I'm proud, but this is life now. This is the new "normal." Parts of that old life still pop up every once in a while, but I have the tools to know how to handle them appropriately. Those tools help me get through day 730. I might even get a day 731...

The Hotline...

"Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs."

Step twelve lays it out there, pretty plain and simple. Once we "have it," we are supposed to turn around and give it away to the next struggling alcoholic or addict. I've said it many times, but I'll say it again... this time around, it has been step twelve that has made all of the difference in the world when it comes to my sobriety. I surrendered and asked for the help, and the people of Alcoholics Anonymous were there for me. They loved me until I could love myself. They showed me the way to solid ground. Once on solid footing, I stay sober today by (trying) to show the next alcoholic that same path and showing them that same empathy and love.

I've worked the twelfth step by chairing meetings, continuing to stay involved at FIRSTEP, by my work at Specialized Outpatient Services and by choosing to share my story on Facebook. Until this weekend, I had never taken a single 12th step call from the Intergroup hotline. Becky (my supervisor/friend/fellow AA'er) was answering the hotline on Saturday night and thought of me. She passed this man's information along to me. It totally made a great day even better. I think I had a positive impact on the man, at least I hope I planted that seed.

Before I go into that story, I've since learned that the hotline comes in two parts. There is the actual part where you are the person answering the hotline. You man the phone one night a month from 6 PM to 7 AM. You answer basic questions and can give the standard AA info. If you come across someone who needs to talk or needs a ride, you have the 12th step list. That is the second part. People who sign up for the 12th step list say that they are available at any time to talk to someone who needs someone to talk to about how to stop drinking. Since Saturday, I've signed up for both. I'm now answering the hotline every 5th Wednesday of the month (which happens like 3 times a year, but oh well) and I'm on the 12th step list to call people when needed.

Back to the main part of the story. I won't really go into the nitty gritty details of the story, but this was a man a lot like me. A part of him wanted the program, but he had never been able to string that much time sober together. He was quite sensitive like I was, where if someone even LOOKED at me the wrong way, that gave me a reason to go out and drink. He managed to get a little bit of time, but found himself in a situation where someone said something that made him want to jump off the beam. We had a really good conversation. It ended with him telling me, "thank you. Because of you, I'll stay sober tonight." That felt really good.

He went on to tell me that he wasn't sure about staying sober the next day, but I told him neither was I. Something could happen tomorrow that could make me want to drink, and I'm sure there are some liquor store owners that would LOVE to see me back. We both chuckled. But it was totally true! He may have been "closer," considering he already had the bottle... but I have that same sickness. I could've gone some wonky news or someone said something to me that could shoot me off the deep end and into the nearest bar. Luckily, it didn't happen.

We talked again some more the next day. Sadly, I think he probably did go out and drink. Maybe he just wasn't ready yet. Maybe he hadn't found that bottom. I pray he finds it soon and it isn't too hard of a bottom. I hope he remembers my name and my number and that I was a compassionate person that didn't judge. I know that I did what I could, my job is to carry the message... not to carry the alcoholic. So I'm ready and willing to take the next call and the one after that.

TRUE Surrender...

A little over a year ago, I wrote a blog on what I thought the difference between "compliance" and "surrender" would be. When it comes to my sobriety, I believe that it is important to know how to wholly surrender rather than just be compliant in some sort of program. I feel that if I'm compliant, I'm some sort of zombie or automaton (ooh! good word!) just doing the bare minimum without putting much thought or feeling into what I'm doing or why. If I'm surrendering, I'm putting my heart into it. I'm giving up and following the advice of someone else because I simply can't do what I've been doing anymore.

It's been about a month or so since a close friend of mine relapsed. After he went back out, it seemed like he came right back and wanted to get the help. That didn't last too long before I think he went right back out again. I'm not exactly sure what's going on at this point, I'm not sure he knows either. I think I did what I could, but now I just feel like I have to step back and let him hit bottom or do SOMETHING on his own. It sucks. I don't want to. I want to help, but I really can't.

This past weekend, I was having a conversation with a current Firstepper who knows many of the guys that I went to Firstep with. As we talked and I asked how these guys were doing, it seemed like more guys were relapsing than were actually making it. Some of these guys were truly surprising because they were guys that I looked up to and thought of them as people who had programs that I wanted to emulate. I know it's not a competition, but I would frequently think of some of these guys as doing this thing "better" than I was. It's definitely disappointing to find out that something stopped working along the way and that these guys thought drinking/using was a better alternative again.

I thought of one guy in particular. This guy didn't live at Firstep while I was a resident out there, but he was out there when I was teaching the Step Action class. Since I (admittedly) wasn't exactly the BEST teacher in the world, I would rely on him frequently to share his thoughts and explanations on certain steps or readings. It definitely didn't take me long to realize that what he shared wasn't some filler that was meant to take up time, he actually knew his stuff and he shared from the point of view of someone who had been through some shit and was doing what was necessary to stay sober. This guy may have had less sober time than I had, but he could definitely teach me a thing or two.

But something happened... I started looking on his Facebook page and saw posts about "staying true to yourself" or various other self-reliance quotes. I was thinking to myself that, yes, it is important to stay true to who you are... but you have to be careful with that. It's important to not forget who you are and to remember what you bring to the table. Those thoughts of self-reliance, however, can be a double-edged sword. What you're essentially saying is that only you have the answer and only you can fix your problems. Eh. If it was up to me, I'd still be pretty damn broken.

I need to remember that I can't do this alone (as much as the introvert in me would like to) and that I most definitely do not have all the answers. I have made many, many mistakes in my life and I have to be able to forgive myself and ask for the help to know how to live a better life. I have to know how to truly surrender, give up all of my old crap that I'm holding on to and try something new. Surrender doesn't mean losing (at least not in this example), it means that maybe someone else has a better idea of what to do and how to live.

The Parking Lot...

A few nights ago, I was parked in one of the stalls at the Sonic on 19th street and enjoying what would probably be my last Oreo chocolate shake for a while (damn diet). I just happened to glance across Telephone Road over to the Walmart parking lot. It was pretty full, probably the usual for a Friday night. For some reason, instead of having the standard thought of "man I hate Walmart," the parking lot stirred up a totally random memory of a conversation that I had with a friend many years ago.

Let's rewind around 12 or 13 years ago. High school wasn't too distant of a memory. I was in college at the time, but I definitely don't think I had any "adulthood" in me. Life hadn't yet gone downhill, that's for sure. I hadn't moved out of my parents' home yet, but I had a good job and a nice car. A friend of mine, who I'll leave his name out for the sake of privacy, was having a rough go of life. He and his wife had gotten REALLY messed up in drugs and, from what I can remember, she seemed to be ready to clean up her act before he was. This resulted in them going their separate ways. When this happened, she moved to Kansas City and totally disappeared from contact. This was before Facebook or Messenger, so it's like she fell off the face of the earth. The last thing I heard was that she was working for some gas station...so sad, she had such potential. This left my friend here in Oklahoma, with pretty much nowhere to go. He had burned plenty of his bridges, which is definitely not an uncommon thing to do for us alcoholics or addicts. His home had become the back of his beat up old Saturn, which was parked in the parking lot of a Walmart.

I don't really remember the conversation. I was still super young, so I doubt I had anything useful or helpful to bring to the table. I do remember having this annoying feeling of moral or ethical superiority. I felt sad for him and scared that something would happen to him, but I was also unwilling to put myself out to do anything about it. I was leaning against my nice car as he sat on the trunk of his beige Saturn. I remember thinking "here you have this bright, young man. He may not have been a Rhodes scholar or anything, but he had potential." I believed in him. This jerk is throwing it all away because he chooses drugs over his family, friends and future. Long before I knew about the disease of addiction, I judged this young man for making these horrible choices, as if he had any choice to begin with. When we started high school together, he was probably a few rungs higher on the social ladder than I was. A "jock" type who came from a wealthier family. I probably never would've interacted with the guy had it not been for his wife, who was actually a good friend of mine when they started dating. Somehow, he and I clicked. We became friends. When his wife completely and totally vanished from the picture, he and I (gladly) kept in touch... at least for a while.

From what I remember, he continued to struggle for quite some time. My life continued to get better and better. As he declined and I made my way up the social ladder, he disappeared. He would pop onto my radar every once and a while, and I would TRY to maintain some sort of constant contact with him, but it would never last long. The years passed and from what I understood he kept trying to improve, but would face setbacks. We all know that, eventually,  my climb up that ladder abruptly stopped and I took a steep nose dive. Call it karma or whatever, but I soon became the same person that I judged him for being. I was "choosing" alcohol over my family, friends and future. I threw away all potential I had.

This awesome guy reached out to me a few weeks ago and seems to be totally on the right track. Surprisingly, he and I are on the same track. He found those 12 steps and is working towards long term sobriety. From what it sounds like, life is good for him. I look forward to sharing our stories of where our addictions took us. However, I know ONE thing has definitely changed. I don't look down on him. He and I are definitely equals. I try to not look down on anyone. I'm no better or no worse. We're all on our own journeys.

The Missing Time...

Recently, I was re-watching season 2 of "Stranger Things" on Netflix. I wanted to make sure that I was caught up on all of the action that was going to happen in season 3, so I needed a little refresher. Usually, when I've done this in the past, I find myself saying things like "oooh yeah! I remember this part!" or "Man! I remember hating this episode when I first saw it!" But I didn't really think/feel any of that when I was watching over the last few days. It was as if I was watching them for the first time. I had some basic vague ideas about certain bigger events, plot twists and character deaths. When it came to some of the smaller details, character-driven conversations and hidden Easter eggs, it was like I was watching it all for the first time. "Why?" I asked myself. I dug a little deeper and saw that the second season was released on October 27, 2017. It all made so much sense then. At that time, I was circling the drain. I was in a pretty dark spot. A little over two weeks later, I'd hit my bottom. Nineteen days later, I  admitted myself to TRC for detox from alcohol addiction. A month later (November 27), I would begin my six month journey at Firstep.

I started this temporary thought process of "well, shit, what ELSE did I miss in that time period? What else did I miss out on over the 8+ years of dangerously heavy drinking?" Without wallowing in morbid reflection, the answer is a lot. There were several big "events" during those years that I should've been there for, but I wasn't. I was either drunk, occupied with drinking, recovering from the effects of drinking/withdrawal symptoms, or consumed by the thoughts of when/where I was going to get my next drink. Throw that on top of the other things that alcohol cost me, and it just becomes so astronomically clear how devastating this illness is when it's not taken seriously. Relationships, friendships, job opportunities... all down the tubes because I simply couldn't put the bottle down.

I have to warn myself, and I DEFINITELY share this warning with other people new into the program... do not get stuck in these thoughts for two long. Yeah, it's important to not forgot this type of information, but it can devolve into self-hatred/loathing SUPER quick. I speak from experience. Instead, if you feel yourself sinking back into these old thoughts, use it as a quick reminder and then turn it around to the present. I remind myself to stay super mindful of interactions of those around me, certain job experiences, those little curveballs life throws at me, failures and successes.  That way, in the future, the only thing I might forget would be a certain important conversation between Mike and Will that happened in season two of "Stranger Things."

Working With Others...

It definitely didn't take long for me to figure out, and admit to myself, that I had a problem with alcohol. With a little help from various court systems (and a pricey attorney), I did learn that Alcoholics Anonymous was a great resource and could definitely help me get on top of this problem. However, I had a gross misunderstanding about what I needed to invest and the steps I needed to take to stay on top of the problem. Starting off, I'd go to the meetings and do the bare minimum when it came to interacting with other alcoholics. After a few weeks, I'd get to that point where I thought I had a good handle on the whole sobriety thing and I would cut back on the meetings or even stop going altogether. My favorite was excuse was somehow blaming Alcoholics Anonymous for my failings and telling those who would listen that I think I could do it better on my own. I stopped listening to those who had come before me and I DEFINITELY didn't help those who were trying to get sober after me. There was a very small group of people that I met through the rooms of AA that I could say that I actually liked. However, I don't think that necessarily meant that I cared for them. It sounds cold and calloused to say, but I don't think I ever lost any sleep when I heard one of them would "go back out" or relapse. It just became another blip on my radar... "Oh, so and so relapsed? THAT'S a big surprise." *insert sarcastic eyeroll here*

That's where the program at Firstep was a real Godsend for me. It basically forced me into the middle of the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous. The tasks that we were given to do to progress and "phase up" through the program required that we get involved with the other "brothers." At first, we worked with our "big brothers" (Firstep's version of a sponsor). If the higher-up's saw that you were someone that was doing what they were supposed to, eventually you were given a "little brother" to help along. Working with others was especially crammed down my throat because I worked in the office. I had to help the new people get established in the program, just like people helped me. I had to help the guys who had been there a while meet their everyday needs, whether it was helping them fill out a pass or making sure their time cards were correct.

I can't pinpoint the exact moment where it stopped being a chore, task or something found in my job description. It became something natural, done without asking. It became something I enjoyed to do. The meaning behind the twelfth step finally clicked with me. In my opinion, that is when the BIGGEST puzzle piece in my sobriety fell into place. In order to stay sober, I have to turn around and give it away to the next person. Whether that's helping them with those days where they are white knuckling it, helping them with step work, or helping make sure the new guy has hygiene products... it all helps ME stay sober.

So, at some point during my six months at Firstep, I actually found myself caring about these people. I had been in the program for about three months when I lost two great friends that I had made in recovery. One of them, my Firstep brother Ben, I lost when he went AWOL from Firstep and overdosed on Heroin. It broke my heart. It hurt surprisingly bad. Both men that I had lost were people that I otherwise would not have interacted with, if it weren't for Alcoholics Anonymous. One of them was an aging man who seem to be proud of his "crotchety-ness" and the other was this little skinny kid who loved to run. Firstep, and the program as a whole, are FULL of these guys (and gals) that I usually wouldn't choose to spend any time with... but here I am, becoming friends with them. I rejoice with them in their successes, and I empathize with them and try to pick them back up when they fall. Over the last 19 months, I've seen LOTS of success. Guys getting GOOD jobs, starting families and STAYING sober. I've seen plenty of heartbreaks, relapses, job losses and just the general shit that life can throw at us.

I, of course, am super hard on myself... even when it comes to the idea of working with others. I don't do it so well, or I give the wrong advice or maybe I listened when I should've talked... I can think of a jillion different ways to pick apart my effort. I've watched a few others in this program who I find awe-inspiring. The advice they can give or whatever it is that they do just seems to work and click and it seems like they saves lives. I feel like I stumble over my own words and I can only imagine people hanging up the phone and being like "well, THAT was a waste of 15 minutes." Recently, after a friend relapsed, I was even turning to the Big Book and reading out of "Working With Others" to get some help. In the long run, I think the fact that I'm putting in the effort is what matters. Over time, as I get experience with helping people, I'll learn and remember the things that work and don't work. The point is that I just have to keep doing it. I can't give up, because people have never given up on me...

It's Not You, It's Me...

When we last "talked," nearly TWO months ago (sorry about that), you could probably read through the lines and see that the last post I made was more of a "pep talk" of sorts for myself more than anything. While the Crisis Center is a critically important facility that does AMAZING work with people who are in literal life-or-death situations and is staffed by people who have a special place in their heart for people who are suffering, it just wasn't a right fit for me. It takes a VERY special person to work there. The people I worked with are incredible. They definitely don't do it for the money, that's for certain. Many of them work there because they have been in similar situations and feel empathy and compassion towards these people who don't feel like they deserve to be on this earth. I also felt that empathy and compassion towards the patients, but I didn't feel like I could provide that sense of safety and security that is needed for both the patients AND my fellow employees. I feel for the management, I know it's super difficult to keep people there. Not because of something that management IS or ISN'T doing, it's just the nature of that position. People that are built to work in a facility like that are wonderful but RARE.

If I'm being honest, I think I knew from day one that it just wasn't going to work. I just wanted to make sure that I gave it a fair shot. I thought maybe there would be one day that something might snap or click or whatever... I'd wake up and be like "a-ha! I can do this!" It obviously never came. What made it difficult, though, is I got to the point where I REALLY liked the people I worked with. They were more than just people who were training me to do a job, or even just co-workers. They became friends. I got to know a lot of their stories, and they got to know mine. But I knew that they would understand, and they ultimately did understand. When I finally turned in my two weeks notice, they were sad to see me go. But, more importantly, they were excited to see what was in store for me next.

It wasn't long after I started the new position in April, that my old supervisor reached out to me and started the talks of what it would take to get me back. I felt for her, because these people were ALSO people that I cared for. They had become my family over the nine months I had worked there. It hurt to leave, but I had to... but it didn't mean I stopped caring for them or even stop caring for the agency as a whole. I still supported their cause and wanted them to succeed. It took some time to work out the boring details, but we FINALLY came to an agreement and I had several good conversations with her and the director that eased any anxiety I had about coming back. My first day back was June 17th.

So, we wrap up my first week back at the "old job" and things seem to be falling into place. Things are back to how they were back before shit really went south at the beginning of the year. I can say that I enjoy my job and I feel like I'm making a difference (hopefully). I've also started working part time for Firstep, helping out in the office. They experienced some drama that has caused them to be really understaffed, so I thought I could help. Plus, it provides a little extra cashola in the pocket. That never hurts.

I'm just over 19 months sober and don't plan on stopping any time soon. There are definitely some big life events on the horizon, I just have to make sure I stay sober and do the next right thing and those things will start happening! :-)

Holding Their Hope...

As my first month as a "consumer recovery specialist" with the Oklahoma Department of Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services come to an end, my thoughts on where I am in life and what exactly I'm supposed to be doing have absolutely been all over the place. I accepted the position thinking that my experience over the last 17 months has given me the ability to empathize and show compassion to the people that seek our services in some of the darkest times of their lives.

It didn't take long for me to start to wonder "am I in over my head?" The patients that come to the Oklahoma County Crisis Intervention Center struggle more with severe mental illness than addiction struggles that I'm used to working with. My experience is more with those who struggle with drug addiction or alcoholism and not so much people who struggle with things like schizophrenia. It has been very easy for me to leave after an eight hour shift at work thinking to myself that I'm not having any sort of positive effect on these patients. It's frustrating. 

I had been working on this post for well over a week, and I thought it was almost done. I stepped away from or it for a day or two and just came back to it... it was way too much and it was just a bad case of word vomit. It was a good representation of what was going on in my head, though. After several good conversations that I've had over the last day or so, not to mention being off for a couple of days, I feel a lot more calm and collected.  So I decided to scratch it and start fresh. 

My mind keeps going back to a presentation that I heard while at the "New Employee Orientation" that was held at the central office two weeks ago. The presenters seemed like they would trade off between talking about the more boring department policies and procedures or talking about the deeper reasons of why we are here or how we're helping the community as a whole. It was pretty easy to see that there is an overwhelming need for mental health services and the resources just aren't there. The services that are needed sometimes make the difference between life and death.

One presenter got up and spoke about how sometimes it is difficult to see that we're making any sort of difference or progress. It is important to remember that these people we work with are carrying so much stress, trauma, illness and other baggage that they can't do it alone. Our job is to walk along side them and carry their hope for them. After they seek services and make that progress, we can hand that hope back to them to carry on their own. That simple, but powerful explanation of what we're doing stuck with me for the rest of the orientation and (luckily) has stuck in the back of my head since then. I think it's made a difference on the fact that I'm still hanging on during this difficult transition. 

So, my current position isn't going to necessarily see people "cured" of their illnesses or I'm not going to be seeing something similar to seeing a patient get their one year sobriety chip. My position is down in the trenches, during those first few days. These people don't see any hope or that it can get much better. My job is to show them that smile, listen to their stories and share mine as well. I'll hold on to that hope until hopefully they can hold on to it themselves.

Ben & Jerry...

No, I really wish that I was referring to "Ben & Jerry's" and that this blog entry was all about ice cream. But it's not. My life rolls on, day in and day out, and I've honestly never been happier. I'm probably the busiest I've been in recent years, but I'm totally okay with that. FIRSTEP has given me plenty of new responsibilities to keep up with, but I'm actually eager and willing to show them that I can do this and I'm willing to do my part to help keep this place up and running. I want them to remember that I'd be a really good candidate for working here once I graduate. So, I've been super busy, but super happy.

Thursday was supposed to be a relaxing day off from work, but with how I've been approaching work here lately, that meant I was still in the office. I just so happened to be in the office when I heard that Ben, a FIRSTEP client and a good friend of mine, had apparently walked away from the job site and was AWOL from the program. Sadly this is one of those things that are normal in a rehab type situation, where people up and leave and go back out to use and/or drink. I tried calling and texting Ben numerous times but to no avail. My last voicemail I just asked him to please, whether or not he wanted to come back to the program, to let me know he was okay and I told him that I loved him. In most instances, people never call back, but I've just assumed because it's easier to not have to feel that shame or guilt from leaving.

Yesterday started out like any other. It didn't take too long for it to turn pretty hectic, juggling all the tasks that come with admitting TWO new clients in the morning as well as having THREE clients unexpectedly leave the program. At one point, I was casually browsing Facebook and read a post from a friend that read "I am sad to report that Jerry O., 'aging alcoholic' passed away suddenly of a brain hemorrhage. At Jerry's request, he wished to have no formal service, but just a small family only memorial. If anyone would like to send a condolence card to his family." It was like I had just gotten punched in the gut. Jerry was a very good friend of mine that was a fellow member of LLL. Straight as an arrow, he was an elderly married man that seemed to fit in just perfectly with the rest of our crew. I'm not sure if he first found interest in me or that I found interest in him, but Jerry and I quickly became good friends, whether we were in the program or out of the program. He struggled just like I've struggled. He was SO proud of me when he heard that I was in FIRSTEP and I was happy and content here because I knew that Jerry was doing well, staying sober and attending LLL on a regular basis.
Just because we're sober, doesn't mean that life is all hunky-dory. People pass away from illness or old age. People experience pain, sorrow or loss. The only difference is, we're left without our old defenses of hiding behind the pain with a big bottle. We're left to feel all of those emotions and the waves of sadness. Luckily Bill was here because I had to excuse myself from my desk for a moment.  I cried and I cried. I put myself together for a bit and called Mom and I cried some more. I sent my sponsor a text message and then called him and we cried together. As weird as it sounds, it felt good and okay to just let all of that out. I didn't feel the need to hide or didn't feel like I wanted a drink to make this go away.
I took a deep breath and said a few prayers of thanks for getting to know Jerry and prayed for his family and the fellowship of LLL and then went back to work. A few hours later, I received a phone call from a woman who identified herself as a family friend of Ben (my friend who didn't come home from work on Thursday) and she asked for me by name, I just so happened to be the one that answered the phone. She told me that they had been notified by the police that he had been found dead of an apparent overdose. Not even a full 24-hours after leaving the program and he was already gone. Again, I was punched in the gut. This was a different kind of pain. This was the pain of knowing that a friend of mine had been taken by the disease of addiction, the very disease that I'm fighting here at FIRSTEP. Whether it's alcohol or heroin, this disease wants to kill us all. Sadly, in a lot of cases, it succeeds.

When Ben was new to FIRSTEP, he was one of my very first intakes as a ROD. As I was still trying to come out of my shell, Ben was one of the first guys that I really got comfortable talking with. He wasn't one of those super-tough, butch, big burly guys that talks about trucks and guns. He was a smaller guy, kinda nerdy, well-spoken, smart and funny. He was developing his relationship with God.

He was one of the guys that I could tell was REALLY taking this whole recovery thing seriously. I never would've guessed this was in the cards. The "when, why, where and what" of it all is still a mystery and I'm okay with it staying that way. It wasn't a pleasant way to go, I don't need to know the details of it all. My friend is gone. I'm grateful that I got to know him and he was part of my journey. I just know that I'm going to pray for my brothers here at FIRSTEP who aren't quite as equipped to handle a world-shaking death like this one that hits so close to home as well as his family that definitely wasn't ready for this tragic news. I don't know what Ben has said to his family about me, but they apparently know my name and I actually just got off the phone with his Mom. Gah, that just breaks my heart.

"Let my soul smile through my heart and my heart smile through my eyes, that I may scatter rich smiles in sad hearts." -- Paramahansa Yogananda