By Aaron Emerson
So, where to start? It’s been quite a while since I have written anything on my recovery blog. I have still been writing – mainly in my journal – but unfortunately I haven’t taken the time to post any of my writings on here.
The main reason for that – actually, the only reason – is that I have not had access to a computer or the internet. Jails and inpatient treatment centers don’t usually cater to people looking to log on to a laptop to tell their story.
Enough with the sarcasm. This is serious, after all. Recovery is life or death. Looking back on my behavior that seems inexcusable in my current sober mindset, well, sometimes I have to throw in a little humor to keep me sane. I don’t know. I guess I am just a little ashamed that I relapsed again.
Thankfully, this relapse didn’t take over my life or take me down a road of theft and using everyday. It got cut off right when it started, thanks to me violating my probation. Just a few days after I relapsed, I was put in the Ingham County Jail, where I stayed for three weeks until a bed opened up at Sacred Heart Rehab. I then completed treatment there yesterday after 21 days. All in all, I was gone for roughly 40 days or so.
I am so happy to be back home with my daughter. In treatment, I felt a lot of feelings I have never felt before. I dealt with some trauma that I’ve never truly handled in a healthy way and I came to terms with the fact that I’m a single man for the first time in several years. Lastly, I sat in my room each night awakened to the fact that my addiction has a significant impact on my daughter.
It’s not that I have never realized that a seven year old girl is going to be hurt when her daddy is suddenly behind bars. But I took a cold, hard look at where my life has taken me, and neither me or Melody are getting any younger. While I was gone, I turned 27. I’m not a fucking kid anymore and my daughter is growing up quickly. Beating myself up for relapsing was not good for me, so I did kind of switch my thinking pattern to more of a motivational thought process when it came to my feelings of feeling like an inadequte father.
The bottom line is that I have to get this shit right. I’m looking at this new chapter of recovery like it’s my last chance. First of all, I don’t want my daughter to grow up with a father in active addiction, and second, the thought of dying from this disease has really hit me harder since I buried one of my best friends this year.
So, here I am, back out and in early recovery again. I have 42 days sober and, one day at a time, I am working on myself and my recovery with everything I have. I’m not gonna get into what led to my relapse because at this point there is no fucking excuse. A therapist at Sacred Heart in one of his lectures told us “there are no relapses anymore, you either use or you don’t. You have all the tools to stay sober, so going back out is a decision, not a lapse anymore.” That kind of hit home. Nobody is gonna feel sorry for me anymore and I am not gonna feel sorry for myself. The fact of the matter is I’m pissed at myself for using again, but in a healthy, motivational way to get my shit together.
I am very, very grateful to be alive and sober today. I’ve been through so much at this point in my life that it is almost impossible to not feel gratitude to simply be breathing today. My family came over last night to celebrate my birthday a few days late and it was great being with them. I have an amazing support system and a beautiful daughter. Life is good and I’m going to start appreciating everything God has blessed me with much more than I ever have. This is it, I have to get this. And today, I’m sober. Thank God.