I used to be so afraid of talking about my addiction.
For years I'd only disclose it in the confines of recovery meetings, one on one conversations, and if I thought it would help someone struggling.
It could have stayed like that.
Not everyone needs to speak publicly about their life's valleys, about the worst things they've done to others, or done to themselves. There are still many stories about my own addiction I have yet to tell publicly, even twelve years past the actuality of it, and that's okay.
But part of my work in the world is sharing through story - metabolizing my own humanity in order to allow others to say "me too." Largely because that's what's helped me - recognizing myself in another, feeling less shame or blame, and moving forward in the world a bit lighter.
And though getting sober involved a lot of inner work and outer tools, a big reason why I was successful was because of other people's stories: I'd hear someone speak about doing the worst thing I could imagine, something I was sure could ruin a life (or possibly ended someone else's) but then I'd see the person telling the story: often someone honest, earnest, doing so much good.
Bad things, but not bad people.
Maybe there's hope for me too.
Some of these people are still in my life, but most aren't - many have taken diverging paths, decided that sobriety wasn't necessary after all, while others have ended up in jail, some sort of institution, or dead.
Addiction is a cruel beast.
And yet, those people who "didn't make it" sober, didn't have the "successful" story arc we all hope for, or just didn't live long enough to realize many dreams, were still integral to my story.
I am here, because they were - however things ended for them.
There are so many examples of this, in and out of sobriety...we have no idea the impact we are having on others, or how the ripple effects of our kindness will linger in the world.
As we all mourn the loss of Mathew Perry, someone who was candid about his own struggles with addiction, there is also this feeling in the air around his passing... the possibility that it was his addiction that finally got him in the end.
It may have been, even if indirectly.
But.
Regardless of what ended his life, whether he was sober or not, or the circumstances surrounding his death, these words of his have stood out to me:
"The best thing about me, bar none, is if somebody comes up to me and says: ‘I can’t stop drinking. Can you help me?’ I can say yes and follow up and do it."
He went on to say:
"...when I die, I don't want Friends to be the first thing that's mentioned — I want that to be the first thing that's mentioned. And I'm going to live the rest of my life proving that."
So many people who were helped by him over the years have been speaking out - people helped directly, or because his story made them feel less alone with theirs.
Those people showed up differently in their families, in their creative work, and in the world...because he helped them. It kept spreading from there, and it still is.
This legacy will outlive him.
I think I spent years "inhaling" and understanding my own story of addiction before I felt ready to "exhale" and tell my own story. I had to sift through so much of my own shame, worries, awareness that some people DO treat you differently once they know you've been an addict. I had to work through the fact that none of us can actually control the narrative of our legacy - and that's not our job.
We can only show up and tell the truth, doing so publicly if we're so moved: and so I share my story. I got the chance to do so recently when I was interviewed by Kenny at Recovery Hill treatment services.
We discuss addiction as a family disease, the link between highly sensitive people and drugs, and the gifts of finding a path of sobriety - which revolve around having an antenna tuned to the universe, not bent and befuddled like it was back when I was using.
I hope you get something from watching, and if you know someone for whom it might help, please share it.
May my story, and all those shared by Kenny Hill, be a reminder that there is hope on the other side for anyone you might know struggling with addiction.
xoxoxox
Melissa
PS: I heard this song last week and I can't stop listening to it. Like a warm hug for my inner child... the reassurance I need when things are hard. It's not even on Spotify or Apple Music yet, but take a listen here on Soundcloud and tell me that it doesn't change you. Maybe message the artist and tell her how you feel. Those comments to creatives matter so much.
Want to understand yourself and your family better, while healing intergenerational stories and patterns too?
Come to my next virtual journaling session - it's on Sunday November 12th from 10-11:30am. This month's theme is Your Family: understanding our intergenerational stories, recognizing and healing unresolved patterns, and mining our inheritance for gifts.
Learn more about the class here.
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The Questions You'll Wish You Asked Time Capsule journals are a time machine disguised as a journal. Within it are prompts for parents and grandparents to tell their story, leave valuable wisdom, and create a legacy of love that will outlast all of us. Are you asking the questions you'll wish you had?
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