Post 32 – Growth Begins with One Choice

The last couple of weeks have been full of change. I started a new job, stepped into a new chapter, and found myself adjusting to a different routine. As exciting as it has been, it also reminded me of something important: recovery isn't something we practice only when life is hard. We practice it just as much when life is good.

Let's talk about growth.

Sometimes we don't even realize we need to grow. Whether you have one day clean or twenty years, growth never stops. It simply looks different depending on where you are in your journey.

Early in recovery, growth might mean admitting you need help.

Later, it might mean facing difficult truths, making amends, changing old behaviors, repairing relationships, or learning how to live life without running from your emotions.

Growth isn't always comfortable, but it is always necessary.

One of the greatest lessons we learn, often before we ever walk into a meeting, begins with a whisper:

"I can't do this anymore."

That whisper is where recovery begins.

Soon after comes another truth we cannot ignore:

Addiction is a life-or-death disease.

There are only two paths. Recovery...or death.

That sounds harsh, but it is the reality so many of us have lived.

If we never fully understand the seriousness of our addiction, it becomes much harder to surrender and stay clean.

I remember exactly when that truth became real for me.

I had what would become my last relapse, although I didn't know it at the time. I was running and gunning with a guy I met in treatment named Grumpy.

Over the course of just a few weeks, I watched him overdose several times.

That was the first time I realized meth could pull someone out of an opioid overdose. More than once, I found myself slapping him across the face, praying he would wake up.

Those moments changed something inside me.

For the first time, I truly believed I was going to die if I didn't stop.

But addiction is cunning.

As quickly as the thought came into my mind that I needed help, another thought followed:

"Let's go get more dope."

That's the insanity of addiction.

Thankfully, God had a different plan for my life.

He used Grumpy to help push me toward the most important decision I have ever made.

Grumpy was one of those people who would cheer everyone else on, even as he struggled to find his own recovery.

Before I met him, he had overdosed so severely that doctors told his family he probably wouldn't survive.

By the grace of God, he did.

He eventually ended up at the same treatment center I attended in Santa Monica.

He fought.

He wanted recovery.

But addiction had already taken such a tremendous toll on his body.

Years of overdoses and methadone left his heart and lungs failing. He spent countless days in and out of hospitals.

Then one day, I received the phone call every recovering addict fears.

Grumpy had been found dead in his apartment.

My heart broke.

It was 2020, during COVID, when so many families couldn't even gather to say goodbye to the people they loved.

His story is one of thousands.

This is why we have to tell the truth about addiction.

It kills.

When I was using, I used to tell myself,

"I'm only hurting myself."

That was one of the biggest lies addiction ever told me.

We aren't just hurting ourselves.

We're hurting our children.

Our parents.

Our spouses.

Our brothers and sisters.

Our friends.

They're praying every night that we'll make it home.

They're driving roads, wondering if they'll find us.

They're calling hospitals, hoping we're there because at least we're alive.

They're calling jails, hoping we are there because maybe we'll be safer there than we are on the streets.

That's what addiction does.

Last night, I had the privilege of speaking on a panel at a treatment center alongside four other people in recovery.

As I looked around the room, I saw every kind of person imaginable.

Young and old.

Men and women.

Different backgrounds.

Different stories.

Some had hope shining through their eyes.

Some looked terrified.

Some quietly slipped into the room late.

Then I noticed one man sitting with his back turned toward all of us.

He didn't want to be there.

I recognized that look immediately.

Many of us have worn it ourselves.

So, I silently prayed.

Not that he would magically understand everything we were saying.

Just that one small seed would be planted.

Because that's how recovery often begins.

Not with certainty.

Not with excitement.

Just with one tiny seed of hope.

If you're reading this and you're thinking,

"The next time I use might be like playing Russian Roulette..."

or maybe you're the person sitting with your back turned because you don't believe recovery is possible...

Please reach out.

Go to a meeting.

Call someone you trust.

Send me a message here, or on Facebook, Instagram, or TikTok.

You don't have to believe you'll stay clean forever.

You only have to make one decision today.

One choice.

That one choice could become the beginning of a life you never thought was possible.

Because I promise you this:

Recovery isn't just about surviving addiction.

It's about discovering a life worth living.

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