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The Addict Who Still Suffers

 Brothers and Sisters in Recovery πŸ™ Yesterday was sobering — no pun intended. I learned that my very good friend’s stepbrother passed away from an overdose. It hit hard. Real hard. Because every one of us knows the truth deep down… this disease does not play fair. Addiction does not care about age, family, intelligence, kindness, or potential. It steals sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, and friends. It leaves empty chairs at dinner tables and broken hearts that never fully heal. And the hardest part? Most of us know that person could have been us. Some of us have overdosed and somehow made it back. Some of us woke up in hospital beds. Some of us were brought back with Narcan. Some of us buried friends we laughed with just weeks before. We’ve watched addiction turn beautiful souls into statistics. That reality should shake every recovering addict to the core. But here’s what I also know: recovery gives us a responsibility. We are not just staying clean for ourselves anymore. We ar...

Pardon My French Today

Brothers and Sisters in Recovery πŸ™

I apologize in advance for the cussing in this message, but sometimes in recovery, there’s just no better way to say it than this: the fuck-its are real.

In early recovery — and especially in rehab — I dealt with that a lot. Truth is, for most of my life, I lived by “fuck it.” I didn’t care much about what I said, what I did, who I hurt, or what I was throwing away. That same mindset is exactly why I left so many rehabs. I’d get a little uncomfortable, a little challenged, a little too honest with myself… and then I’d say fuck it and walk out.

And I know I’m not the only one.

Matter of fact, I’d bet just about every one of us reading this has had a case of the fuck-its at some point. That voice that says, “This is too hard.” “I’m tired.” “What’s the point?” “One time won’t matter.” That voice has taken a lot of us out before.

Now yes, it can absolutely be a character defect that needs work. But I also believe something else: what used to be a defect can be turned around and become an asset when it’s filtered through recovery, experience, and spiritual growth.

Because there’s a difference between recklessly saying fuck it and making a calculated exit.

There have been times in my life — even recently — where I found myself in situations that looked okay on the surface, but once I got deeper in, I started seeing boundaries being crossed, red flags popping up, and things that just didn’t sit right in my spirit. In those moments, I wasn’t just quitting. I wasn’t running. I was using wisdom. I was protecting my peace. I was protecting my recovery. I made the decision to remove myself because it was the right move.

That’s not giving up.

That’s growth.

That’s discernment.

That’s what happens when experience teaches you the difference between self-destruction and self-preservation.

But let me be very clear about one thing:

When it comes to your sobriety and your clean time, it is never a good idea to say fuck it.

Not ever.

Recovery is where we do not keep an escape route. Recovery is where we do not make backup plans for relapse. Recovery is where we do not leave the door cracked open for the disease to creep back in.

In recovery, the exact opposite is true:

You dig in.
You get stubborn.
You hold the line.
You fight like hell.

When your mind says quit — stay.
When your feelings say run — sit still.
When life gets uncomfortable — lean in.
When the disease whispers “fuck it” — you answer back, “Not today.”

Because we don’t throw away miracles over temporary emotions.

If you’re struggling today, if your head is loud, if your spirit is tired, if life is hitting hard and the fuck-its are knocking at your door — do not entertain them. Call somebody. Pray. Hit a meeting. Read literature. Get honest. Reach out. Do whatever you have to do, but don’t let a temporary feeling make a permanent decision for you.

You’ve come too far. You’ve fought too hard. You’ve survived too much.

So today, if you feel the fuck-its creeping in, tell them this:

Fuck the fuck-its.
Choose recovery.
Keep coming back.
One day at a time.
Easy does it.
Stay in the middle.
This too shall pass.
Progress, not perfection.
It works if you work it — and you’re worth it.

With love and gratitude,
Gary G


Comments

  1. Gary - This is so true! Many of the things we used to consider life’s pleasures were only temporary. Now we begin to establish forever treasures - honesty, truth, trust, faith & belief! We ask forgiveness from those we have hurt during our “fuck-it” moments and hope that those people we’ve injured gift us with forgiveness. We learn that surrender isn’t “I quit”, it’s faith! I’m so grateful for your messages and your friendship!

    Forever grateful,
    Heather

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I am just as blessed as having you as a friend too.

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