My Recovery Journey – By A Twelve Step Agnostic

As a child, I had the common experience of growing up in a home with an alcoholic parent.  My step-father was a daily drinker who was incapable of forming a loving relationship with me or my younger brother. When my stepfather had been drinking he seemed to resent us and was emotionally abusive.

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Three Poems About Love For Valentines Day

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Love and intimacy have taken on new meaning for me these days. My spouse and I, in many ways, are an improbable, imperfectly perfect match. It’s not the first marriage for either of us. We produced no children together, meeting when our children were teenagers. The Brady Bunch we were not. With time, patience and acceptance, our family is one full of love.

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My earliest experiences in recovery started the same way that most of these journeys begin, at a meeting. Going down a short flight of stairs into a very large church basement with smoke thickened air (it was, after all, early 1987 when there were still smoke-filled rooms) and seeing an old DC drinking buddy at the bottom of those stairs who immediately said, “What the fuck took you such a long time to get here?”

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When I returned to a 12 Step recovery group four years ago, 30 years after walking into the fellowship’s rooms for the first time, both the program and I had changed. Phone meetings made up a large proportion of all fellowship meetings, affording me the opportunity for recovery in my new home, a state with no face to face meetings.

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