I sit on my bunk looking down on a room that resembles a military bunker. I sit, hair a mess, from a night restless, wearing nothing but shorts and tattoos.

I am restless. My mind rules as I try to fast forward through the next 56 days.  I am almost home.

I am ecstatic; joyful…scared to death of being released with nothing.

Yet I am relieved that the worst part of my life to date is just days away from coming to an end.

I have come a long way during my incarceration.  My first year was nothing but utter depression, shame, guilt and regret. Finally, I became acutely aware of the need to begin working on myself.

  

I have flaws in my character that contribute to and are the outcome of being someone who is addicted to drugs.

I’m impulsive, often self-centered, manipulative and I find myself in need of instant gratification.

Just because I am not consuming drugs, if I am acting in ways an addict acts, then it’s only a matter of time before being slung back into the same revolving doors.

Basically, if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck – hang around long enough and betcha it starts smoking quack like a duck.

What I am getting at is recovery is not just about not using.  Recovery is a daily battle waged within your heart and mind.  To remain clean, one must recognize what character flaws they possess that contribute to the addiction

.

Some days it may be damn near impossible to keep that flaw in check, but acknowledging it and addressing it is over half the battle.

I am on my way home.  

I am committed to addressing my character flaws and all my short-comings - every single day.  This road ahead of me is going to be crazy, but I am committed.

I know where I may fall short, but I recognize it and will always continue to reach beyond those weaknesses.

56 days.  I can't wait.

 

#letgracesetthepace in all you do.