Heroin And The Grim Reaper

Thank God, I never did heroin when I was active in my alcohol and drug addiction. It’s probably a good thing too because I’m continuing to watch how it’s becoming the grim reaper of the new millennium. Sadly, the latest victim to fall prey to that hooded man with the scythe was my sponsee Derek B., who was only 22 years old.

Derek had an amazing heart with an incredible amount of desire to be free from his heroin addiction. I’ve worked with many so sponsees throughout the years, but no one was ever as dedicated to the recovery homework assignments as he was. Derek was also consistently a go-getter, meeting every single one of my sponsor requirements, day in and day out. I was always amazed at the fire I saw in his eyes for recovery. He truly wanted to lick his disease. Unfortunately, the disease got the best of him and won, like so many other tragic souls have already experienced in this world.

The day that Derek overdosed began in a way I never thought would end for him as it did. We met at my favorite local coffee shop, Bigby, to go over his 12-step work and discuss his progress on the 4th Step. He had already come up with close to 200 names of people he had resentments with and was completely willing to work through each of them. I was incredibly surprised at how Derek had such a passion to do this specific step given that most newcomers always seem to despise it, like I once did. But Derek was different; he had the willingness to do whatever was necessary to overcome his drug addiction.

As the two of us sat there talking about his step work and recovery, I asked Derek what heroin was like for him. When he started describing it, I could feel the disease still working within him beckoning him to come back to it’s deathly grip. He asked me if I missed the taste of any of the beers or drugs I once consumed with great regularity. My response to him was a resounding “no”, and I explained the reason why was due to the damage and destruction all of it did in my life. I could see the pain in his eyes as he listened and I desperately wanted to take his disease away right then and there.

By the time we finished our weekly get together, the two of us departed for our home group that meets every day at noon. During the meeting, I chuckled as Derek had to remind me of my own cardinal rule of no cell phones in meetings when I had taken mine out for a brief moment. The fact is, the furthest thing from my mind at that point in time was thinking Derek was on the verge of a deadly relapse.

That’s how crafty and lethal this disease truly is, especially when it comes to heroin. How it works in the brain to convince a person to return to it I honestly can’t say. I just know it does all too often these days like it did with Derek. I also don’t know much about what took place in Derek’s life after the meeting ended that day. The last words we shared were over the phone as I thanked him for reminding me of my own cell phone rule. He told me he would call me back later, but that call never came.

At 1:30am the next morning, Derek was pronounced dead after he was found with a belt around his arm and all attempts to resuscitate him were of no avail.

I think back to all the moments I told Derek that he might not have another recovery story to tell if he has another relapse. After two stints in an in-patient drug abuse program, I thought he had really hit his bottom. Little did I know that he hadn’t or that his next relapse was one that was going to take his life?

I loved Derek greatly like a little brother and only wanted him to find a future where his Higher Power could lead the way to full recovery from his alcohol and drug addiction. I’m sad to say that didn’t happen, at least on this plane of existence, but I’m sure it’s happening now on another.

So Derek, wherever you are, I just want you to know, I love you greatly, and am grateful for the brief time I got to spend with you in recovery. Hopefully heroin and the grim reaper no longer have their icy grips on you and you are finally free and feeling the serenity you tried so hard to find. I will truly miss you bro, and my only prayer is that God is guiding your recovery now…

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson

Getting Over My Summertime Blues

I have been experiencing some summertime blues lately and I know it deals with the current state of my physical health. It’s been over four years now since I began this path of serious healing from all the damage I did from a life of addictions. Prior to that, I used to really love the summer, as it was the time I did many physical activities outdoors. Hiking, biking, long walks, tennis, golf, basketball, and going to amusement parks were only some of them. Sadly, my physical health hasn’t reached a state yet to do any of them. So as the summer of 2014 begins, I feel as if I’m still on the sidelines watching everyone else have fun. Ironically, there are three traits this is forcing me to learn in not only this situation, but in many others throughout my life as well.

Letting go, acceptance, and patience are those very traits and they’re probably the hardest ones I’ve struggled to learn throughout these past four years. I grew up in a dysfunctional family where none of these traits were demonstrated well at all. In fact it was just the opposite, as my parents taught me how to control things to get my way and be impatient until they got done. Until just a few years ago, that’s how I lived my life almost 100% of the time. Thankfully, I’ve made a lot of changes to counteract that and I’ve gotten much better. But there are still several areas of my life I’ve been resisting those changes, the largest of which deals with the current state of my physical health.

I have gone to great extremes over the past few years to accelerate my healing to the maximum possible speed. The person I am now is leaps and bounds so much healthier than who I was when I began this process because of it. Unfortunately, I’ve hit a wall though because I’ve done everything I can do to heal. My spiritual teacher continues to tell me that the rest is up to my Higher Power, time, and my body’s own healing processes. For a person who is so used to control and impatience, this hasn’t sat well within me and that’s precisely the reason why I’ve been feeling those summertime blues.

So as this summer begins, I realize there’s only one real solution to this. I just need to continue making the best of what I still have. In doing so, I’ll actually be practicing those three traits of letting go, acceptance, and patience on a daily basis.

I know there will come a day soon when I can return to more physical based activities. Whether that happens sometime during this summer or not, I’m going to do my absolute best to not let any summertime blues ruin it.

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson

Is My Birthday Truly That Important?

Is my birthday truly that important? This is the question I’ve been asking myself since I turned 42 a few days ago.

As a kid, I always loved my birthdays because my parents usually gave me tons of presents and lots of surprises. Each year my birthday cake was also quite unique and special too. (FYI, my favorite was definitely some type of an ice cream cake!) By the time I turned 21 my birthdays began to change. There weren’t any big parties being held for me anymore, and presents were becoming less and less, until the only thing I was getting from most people who remembered was a card.

When I reached that 30th milestone, my partner at the time threw me a big celebration where I was the center of attention again just like I had been as a kid on each of my birthdays. For the next nine years, I did everything I could to make each of my birthdays all about me just like my 30th had been. Unfortunately, nothing really ever came close to meeting any of those expectations. This consistently led me to feeling down on most of those birthdays.

I tried to recapture the glory of my 30th birthday once again when I hit the next milestone, my 40th. Instead of allowing someone else to plan that day though, I controlled much of the process and invited as many people as I knew to come to my party. When only a handful of them showed up, with most of them bringing nothing more than a hungry stomach, I became very dejected and even somewhat angry.

Zoom forward to two years later, and it’s now the morning of my 42nd birthday. It’s then I discover my partner has completely forgotten about it, which leads me to totally unraveling at the seams. I then proceed to berate him about being self-absorbed and self-centered, but that sits so uncomfortably within me after doing so, it leads me to ask the question I began with, is my birthday truly that important?

The irony I discovered when that answer came is one that was pretty hard to swallow. I realized that I was the one who has actually been self-absorbed and self-centered for years, not only on all of my birthdays, but on most other days as well. Until just a few years ago, I was living almost my entire life in this way. But through my work in 12 Step recoveries, I started seeing the root of all my problems was this selfishness. That became the catalyst that started my shift in life to one of selflessness, but with one exception. I continued to allow myself to believe that the day of my birthday should be the one exception where I’m still allowed to be fully selfish. What I wasn’t seeing was how that belief was the exact reason why I rarely enjoyed most of my birthdays since the age of 21.

That selfishness blinded me from truly seeing the love I did receive on any of my birthdays. Instead, the only thing I generally saw was what I wasn’t receiving, and all that did was make me miserable and complain about most of them. Looking back on each of them now with this realization, I can see how there were many wonderful things I received each year. Whether it was a phone call, a warm embrace, a card, a small gift, or some other loving gesture, I always did have something positive happen every single birthday and my 42nd was one of them. Between a dozen phone calls, several e-mails, a few text messages, some song singing voicemails, a couple of incredibly special gifts, a round of applause at a recovery meeting, many warm embraces and handshakes, and two great meals, I genuinely had a pretty awesome birthday.

So is my birthday truly that important? The more I step out of my own way and remove more selfishness out of my life, the more I see probably thinking so is being selfish itself. But the more I let go of that unwanted trait, the more I’m able to see the real truth such as this…There have always been others who felt I was important enough to them, to show me their love on each of my birthdays, including my partner who did so later that night…

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson