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SMART Recovery Central Office
7304 Mentor Avenue, Suite F
Mentor, OH 44060 USA
Phone: 440/951-5357
Toll Free: 866/951-5357
Website: www.smartrecovery.org |
"One Person's Story... Or Is it?"
Greetings to all you SMART people!
My name is Kate and I’m happy and grateful to be telling you my story today; in fact, I’m happy and grateful to be doing anything at all today! I had a birthday last week and frankly I probably wouldn’t have without SMART Recovery. You see, after way too many years of drinking way too much (you can insert your dumb-of-choice here, they’re all alike), I'd gone from a splash of brandy in my morning coffee to a splash of coffee in my morning brandy, till I finally gave up the pretense of coffee entirely. (That stuff’s bad for you!) My liver had gotten its own lawyer and my pancreas wanted to make it a class action.
But I could quit anytime I wanted, and did - repeatedly: I'd stop for a few days, weeks, a month, even once several years for someone else’s sake, but something would happen and I always wound up back at the same dismal place, a place I now fondly call Death.
Don’t we all have our complications? Well, I’m unique just like everyone else: I'm a survivor of traumatic child abuse with a particularly virulent form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder; for me drinking seemed a benign (or at least legal) form of numbing self-medication that worked too well to give it up. I sincerely wanted to want to, but I was afraid to quit. What might reality hold (not like I’d been fond of it in the past)? Hey, it wasn’t my fault, I have PTSD! (Insert your excuse here.)
I'd proved to my satisfaction that I couldn't really make it stick by myself. I knew I was committing slow suicide; I believed it was more socially acceptable (and convinced myself it was kinder to my husband) than a quicker and more definitive method, and resigned myself to the inevitable.
Despite my despair, I continued – perhaps from mere curiosity - to seek a solution. Twelve-step programs, for a variety of reasons, are not for me. I know my behavior was a choice (albeit a bad one), and not a disease, but I was at a loss for the skills to make better choices. Until I heard about SMART Recovery. I found the website. Suddenly I had my own 24/7 non-twelve-step support group. What a generosity of spirit I’ve found here!
Within a week of that first encounter, I was happily in SMART’s many kind and capable and mostly volunteer hands. Hours of “homework” with SMART tools opened me up to a new way of thinking. I threw myself into the program with a single-minded determination that surprised even me. Day by day you literally taught me the “ABC's” (and CBA’s) that became the building blocks of my new life. SMART Online quickly became my lifeline because there’s no face-to-face meeting near me.
To my everlasting disgruntlement, y’all were right when you warned me that all of life's challenges and obstacles would not just magically disappear once I quit drinking. I expected euphoria and found reality instead, but guess what? Reality is kind of cool when it's not seen through the bottom of a bottle. And when things get confusing or overwhelming, you are barely a keystroke away.
Instead of my usual self-sabotage, I've continued with my homework, reading, writing and drawing heavily on my new support network. I'm realizing that this is a continuation of a sidetracked journey, not a shortcut to a destination.
I won’t pretend it’s all been smooth sailing – oh no! There have been slips and stumbles along the way and I have the scars to prove it. Just because I’m not drunk doesn’t mean I can’t still be stupid from time to time, but you always help me learn from my mistakes. And the biggest mistake I can make is not to stay close to this program.
What a difference it’s made for me! The last line in Dashiell Hammet's classic novel The Thin Man has Nick Charles announcing, "All this excitement is cutting into my drinking time." Little did I know that all this drinking was cutting into my excitement time! And I’m excited now. I've learned for the first time ever to feel simply content in the moment and comfortable in my own skin. I don't have to plan my activities around drinking. I can run an errand after dinner without risking a DUI or worse. I can remember what I said last night (okay, that’s not always a good thing). I'm not likely to burn down the house with a forgotten candle and I never have to pick up poop because I didn’t let the dogs out. I probably won’t pass out and drown in the bathtub. I can participate fully and voraciously in my life.
I expected to feel a void, like a missing tooth. On the contrary, I finally feel whole, involved, connected. To merely say "thank you" would be damning with faint praise. For once, I lack words to express the myriad of grateful feelings that propel this wonderful invention called life.
Yet: I do thank you, profoundly, as do my husband, my liver and pancreas, my doctor, my lawyer, my family and friends, and (unknowingly) the community of which I am again a contributing member. I'm once again enjoying gardening, cooking, music, exercise, reading (the other day – I swear I’m not making this up - I checked out a copy of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for Dummies! And drove to the library, stone cold sober and loving it. Yo! Hey Liquor Store, this is me not stopping there!) Most important, I am tackling the hard work of trauma recovery, a monumental task I could not even contemplate while drinking.
Now I didn’t write just to say thanks for helping me regain some semblance of sanity. It gets a lot more personal than even that for me.
My brother Tommy survived the same childhood I did and then went to Vietnam. Poor guy never had a chance. He returned to become a professional drunkard, consuming astonishing amounts of alcohol right up to the day I found him with a bullet in his heart.
There was no SMART Recovery for Tommy. He was my best friend and I still miss him every day. That’s why I’m pushing hard for more training for more facilitators, more face-to-face and online meetings, more outreach. For Tommy. My dream is that no more Tommies out there will die without a chance to get SMART.
None of that comes free. Even though we are so very volunteer-driven, there are costs. So here’s my challenge to you - oh c’mon, you knew this was coming!
What did you spend on your last night of drinking? Or drugging or gambling or acting out sexually? Or for bail or lawyer’s fees? ‘Cause I will tell you this much: SMART Recovery saved my life and for me it’s worth one night’s self-destruction budget. I want and NEED this program to survive. So:
I’ll buy a round for SMART. Won’t you?
Even if you’re broke, and many of us are, I’m betting you can squeeze out a couple of hours a week to volunteer. We can sure put you to work and we have a lot of choices. I know from my own volunteer experience that one hour a week can change a life. Even save a life. And one life at a time we can change the world. I want my country’s leaders to be clear-headed (what the heck is a Beer Summit anyway). And I don’t know about you, but I want my kid to be sober and successful so he can afford to put me in a good nursing home!
So I’m coming to you to nag you out of your money and your time. My husband says I’m real good at it because I get so much practice at home. As you know, at this point in a traditional face-to-face meeting we’d pass the hat. Think of this as a meeting, because I am passing a metaphorical hat to you right now. Please give what you can. We have some great ideas in development to raise significant funding, but that takes time and, yes, money too. No one has ever been charged a cent for the life-saving tools this program offers, and we have to keep it that way.
I’m asking you to help make my dream a reality. For Tommy. For all the Tommies.
Thank you,
Kate Thompson
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