“Fucking drug addict…” my husband mutters under his breath. I sense his sarcasm, I see him wink with a stupid grin on his face. I know he is joking, but one of these days I will punch him right in his balls.
He thinks it’s funny to taunt me about having to take p.m. medication to sleep every night. I have, ever since I got sober and entered recovery.
Anytime I take any kind of medication, for anything, I imagine he assumes I will soon be shamefully gulping the rest of whatever on the floor of our bedroom closet or something. You know, because that’s what drug addicts do.
And even though I smile along with this playful banter, I know this kind of thinking is an actual problem for some.
What if someone else (who I didn’t love so much) tried to shame me for “relying” on a medication? What if someone tried to make me feel like I wasn’t the hard-working, (obviously humble), bad-ass recovery princess I feel like most days (even when I am covered in ground-up crackers and baby snot)? I’m not sure I would find it as cute and funny.
This is a serious issue and hits close to home for me.
When I began my recovery, I was a dedicated, active member of a 12-step program that I still respect, love and attend (like once a year).
Back then, I believed in a certain set of rules. I knew my way of recovery worked, and that is all I could see or entertain. Anything else was rubbish; bullshit recovery. Mine was legit.
That’s not what the pamphlets said or what the group specifically taught me to think or feel, but it’s how I felt.
As I grew into my own skin and continued to shed layers of my former self — as I walked farther away from that old shell of self — I began to see things differently. The more confident I got, the more people I met. The more people I met, the more that I began to see that maybe – just maybe – there were other ways to practice recovery that *gasp* weren’t exactly like mine.
Holy Baby J. Really? Yes, really.
Perspective depends on where we are. The more I traveled and experienced, the more I could open up and appreciate different pieces of people and their worlds. I became aware that we are all on personal journeys. That is what a recovery is. The program is just a blue print that can be used as a tool; a guide if-you-will, until we can find our footing.
So, the suggestion that I am not sober because I take certain medications is completely ridiculous. I rely on them, but they do not define my recovery or my journey.
…I’m forwarding this to my husband.