Elizabeth F., Renascent Alumni
They say the hardest part is walking up those steps. She stood outside taking, what she knew would soon be the last haul off of her cigarette.
“This is stupid, I should run while I have the chance” She mumbled to herself, looking around for the best way to slip away.
35 days and 35 nights, have never felt longer. She thought to herself as she waited patiently for her turn to collect her coin, gold and shining like a medallion of hope. The tangible token that would put meaning into this entire experience. She realized now, standing before the group of twenty-plus women she had grown to call friends; that this was just the beginning. No group session, one or one, or late-night conversation could prepare her fully for what awaited her outside these doors. She sighed, said her peace and grabbed her bags. Knowing that the pin to pop her bubble waited on the other side of that door. The one that was at the top of those dreaded stairs. She thought to herself, ‘They lied’ going over that initial moment in her mind. The hardest part isn’t coming up the stairs, the hardest part is the descent back into reality.
35 days turned into 60, and meeting after meeting against all odds she remained true. Despite many a sleepless night told through teary eyes as she wept knowing the only reason she was sober in that moment was the fact the stores which held her vices behind counters were closed. Yet she went to bed, waking in the morning holding a bottle filled with only water. A pen filled with only ink, and cash traded in for true necessities. It didn’t feel any easier, she thought to herself ‘They lied’ going over it all in her mind playing back the tape. The hardest part was never walking up those steps.
60 turned into 90, and she wept when she stood to collect her chip because on day one she didn’t think she’d make it to day 7. On day 30, she was planning to go back to day 1. On day 60, she was crying to her fellows wishing she’d never done this and yet she remained true. Day 90 and here she stood in a room of her peers, the longest she’d go without what she once called vices.
But rest assured while she did it, never once was it easy. She lost the cravings for one and felt called by another. Clinging to avoidance, she craved escape. She learned to find shelter in safer things. She would blast songs through her tears, she would strum the guitar through her fear, and she would talk to her higher power when she lost all hope. She remained true.
Before she knew it those 90 days turned into a year, and her life started falling together. Her defects and insecurities weighed less, they were never gone. She’d just learned to go there less frequently and to stay for shorter periods. But that’s humility and that’s the program baby. Cling to cliches it works if you work it. Work it she did because she remained true.
A life she never thought she’d get to know, returning to school, advancing in her life and making moves. Doing all the things she’d never thought she’d do, she’d grown. Watered her garden long enough to see the flowers bloom, and with each day she felt better.
She couldn’t help but think ‘they lied’ the hardest part was never walking up the steps. It was fighting the demons that lay dormant inside, waiting for their time to strike. But she was a warrior, unafraid of a battle she rose to the challenge. Brave and armed with her 12 strategies, she came ready to fight for her life. She remained true, long enough to see her garden bloom, and with 2 years under her belt. She sat, spinning that tangible token reminding herself of those first 35 days.
Recounting her journey and what she once believed was unachievable but here she sat, proof that hope existed. Proof that recovery was possible, but she knew it was a battle that never ended. One you cannot win, but proudly she sat there, feeling for the first time truly happy in her decision. “They were right, the hardest part truly was embarking up those steps”.
