The first real steps in recovery started with death. Any addict will tell you that you can't start recovery until you've hit the bottom; until the pain of the addiction is worse than the pain of reality.
I was feeling pretty impressed with myself. I hadn't given in to my addiction since I started attending the meetings. And believe me, life had only gotten harder.
My mother, who I loved dearly, passed away suddenly. I was barely able to get to where she lived two hours before she died and she wasn't aware I was there. To top it off, I have been a little abrupt the last time we had spoken - not mean - just wishing she weren't being such a mom and worrying about my finances so much. As a family we agreed that, although she had never signed her living will, we would abide by the intent within it and not keep her alive on life support. Unfortunately, while going through her papers later, I found a power of attorney that she had signed sometime before giving me her medical power of attorney and stating she knew I would make the right decisions if she wasn't able to. I was crushed beyond belief because suddenly I felt like I had killed my mother.
The stress only got worse as I had to leave after the funeral for a research trip, keeping me away from the comfort of friends. I was blessed - I had my supportive family calling me and IMing me on the computer.
Still I held it together - and I got cocky.
It wasn't until it seemed like the trials were over that depression set in and I sank into the worst bout of depression and addiction that I had suffered in years. And nothing seemed to be able to pull me out.
I finally went to my bishop, broken hearted and almost hoping that he would have me excommunicated. I guess I felt like I wanted it to be over and to just be damned. Luckily, Heavenly Father used him to reach out to me instead.
He got me started back with my therapist and started meeting with me weekly himself. In my addiction recovery meetings, the facilitator talked about the difference between attending the meeting and "working the steps." I realized that for a year, I'd been using the group as a support group and a social group but I hadn't been doing my part. I hadn't gotten to the point that the pain had forced me to my knees yet.
This scared me to death, because I realized that with all the "faith" I had, I don't trust much at all. That had to change.
So, for the first time in the year that I had been attending the group, I went home, and at the Bishop's recommendation, set aside time every morning to pray, read the scriptures, and WORK THE PROGRAM.
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