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Queen of recovery

Dear Friends,

Our addict starts the day out decidedly happy, donning 70 days of recovery ain’t no small feat so our addict crowns herself queen of her recovery. In her kingdom, the wicked witch is the previous mistress of her misery, drugs and witch’s terrible minions, the multiple dealers that beckon at every corner. But there is peace in her kingdom. The wicked witch’s wand has been snapped in half and her minions deemed helpless. The power the witch had before can only be restored by the queen herself – but the constant reminder of the insanity that reigned the queen’s life before is the most powerful – and the witch is just well, not an option.

That doesn’t mean recovery is easy. It doesn’t mean that the queen can become complacent. Rather, the queen is conscious of her previous pain but restored through peace, daily little gifts such as no hangovers, sunshine and joy that transcend any kind of numbness she could have sought before. Our addict queen is adorned with these and other jewels and looking out on her kingdom she is satisfied. There is place in her kingdom for all others like her – citizens who choose peace over pain. The kingdom awaits!


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Bittersweet victory

Dear friends,

Today our recovering addict celebrates two months of sobriety – her bittersweet victory. Recovery ain’t for sussies she’s learned. The daily challenges ranging from snot reversing commuters to buzzing bosses can no longer be brushed onto a chemical canvass but now instead need to be dealt with head on. And she revels in the mundane. She revels in the mindfulness of staying in each day because she can. No longer taunted by the mistress of her misery our addict has the chance to just BE. Something she has not known in the longest time.

There are moments however, where dark harry potter like wafting dementors claw at her young clean being and she courageously or quietly has to ward them off. Sometimes our addict has the skills and sometimes she does not but she always tries. With matrix fighting like madness she dodges their claws, bends beneath their banchee like screeches and reminds herself that its the sweet end on the side of this bitter she more resolutely craves. Not everything can be calm, she aspires to balance, but knows that life is sometimes just sometimes, wobbling gracefully down the road of recovery, staying on it is what matters most.

Join me in my bittersweet recovery.


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Bittersweet victory

Dear friends,

Today our recovering addict celebrates two months of sobriety – her bittersweet victory. Recovery ain’t for sussies she’s learned. The daily challenges ranging from snot reversing commuters to buzzing bosses can no longer be brushed onto a chemical canvass but now instead need to be dealt with head on. And she revels in the mundane. She revels in the mindfulness of staying in each day because she can. No longer taunted by the mistress of her misery our addict has the chance to just BE. Something she has not known in the longest time.

There are moments however, where dark harry potter like wafting dementors claw at her young clean being and she courageously or quietly has to ward them off. Sometimes our addict has the skills and sometimes she does not but she always tries. With matrix fighting like madness she dodges their claws, bends beneath their banchee like screeches and reminds herself that its the sweet end on the side of this bitter she more resolutely craves. Not everything can be calm, she aspires to balance, but knows that life is sometimes just sometimes, wobbling gracefully down the road of recovery, staying on it is what matters most.

Join me in my bittersweet recovery.


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Idiot approaching – how to jam on a train station platform and look hot

Dear Friends,

Today our dear addict decides to jam on the train station platform much to the dismay of her fellow commuters. She doesn’t really care as her tunes are decidedly jam worthy. She smiles at their bemused faces, many of them rather glum, and she thinks to herself that is very much the point no? If you can’t  dance like no-one is watching, smile like you’ ve heard the funniest joke, whatever is appropriate, how much do we live? Recovery is very much about learning to live a new way and for this recovering addict it’s about joy in every step.

No, it’s not living without consequences, but more about an attitude of gratitude, about smiling inside and out. Our addict remembers the lonely place she came from and if, just if, her morning train jam does that for her or someone else watching her girating, she is quiet prepared to be that. The chick without medication doing the moonwalk on the train platform because this addict knows what truly, truly matters. No surprises here but it ain’t the perception of others, no, it starts with singing and celebrating YOU. Because that’s always where any kind of sustainable recovery will come from. Doing the moonwalk for me. Jumping and jammin to the joy of being a new me. This addict is very happily jamming recovery. Join me.


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Eeny Meeny Miny Me

Dear friends – our recovering addict returns to posting about her daily journey. Our dear addict you see, had a large relapse between her last posts – and is enroute to building up what she now calls “eeny meeny miny me”. Any step toward recovery needs to start out with humility. With child like open mindedness and honesty. Perhaps two months is not that shorter time but… relative to how much she had broken down, she prefers the humility of a baby like me – ready to grow, ready to strengthen in recoveree – a little eeny meeny miny me.

The little toddler that emerges and grows in courage with each toddler like step and fall in recovery. Recovery our addict thinks, is akin to learning your first words, tasting your first foods, taking your first step – but as an adult. You get to live your life anew – you get to feel anew – and most of it is amazing, whilst a lot of it is overwhelming. This living on life’s terms stuff is not for sussies – and she frowns remembering how she had wanted to force herself to grow up when she was little. Grown up she is – and grown up she will have to be.

Our dear addict’s last foray into drugs almost left her lifeless – and it is this painful reminder how of one can be so wrapped up in one’s own pain and do anything to hide it – that strengthens our addict’s resolve to live and let live – to be and let be without the dangerous trappings of mind numbing anything that would further dissolve her eeny meeny miny me. But its not doom and gloom with which our addict approaches her life – oh no – it is the childlike joy of each new dawn where her little me has a chance to experience, be happy, be grateful, be free. She’s hoping you’ll join in her childlike steps – in being clean, in being free, in being serene. Just watch me.


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Recommits

Our Dear Addict has returned to the working class in South Africa. Its now wintery mornings find commuters glove clad and solemnly approaching work as Jack Frost nips at their ears. Having travelled to Mozambique and Malawi for work, our addict marvels at the differences between these countries and her home. For as much as the have nots exist unfortunately widely in her own country, the have definitely nots, are much more in abundance in the M Countries she’s visited.

70 days into recovery our addict’s road has become distinctly harder, challenged by offers to break her sobriety. Active addiction you see, is easier and coated with numbness, our tormented addict often longs for. This easyness is deceitful however – it is easy to loose your life, easy to loose your family, easy to loose your job etc. And ain’t no numbness that can ease those kinds of realities, this addict believes.  So, although tempted, this addict resolutely shakes her head and chooses instead, the numb free newness of life she has come to know. 

Being numb free and living life on life’s terms is much more difficult. It is harder to walk and confront each day “bare chested”. It gets easier with time, but more often than not, you get thrown a curveball, a tidal wave of terror that shows you, nigger please style, that you are but a baby in recovery. It sends you for a loop, but reminds me that each day, sometimes each hour, that our addict needs to tread cautiously. Perhaps this new found humility is precisely what the addict God’s intend – a definitive difference from the previously arrogant stance our addict used to take.

So today our addict is recommitting to her path of recovery. Strengthening her resolve to find herself, drug free.


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Seasons of Serenity

Our addict wakes up this morning to the trees changing their attire for the new season. The dresses they struggle out of are flaming red and gold and flitter slowly to the yellowing grass. A chillier wind and season are approaching and its almost laughable that this is when mother nature strips her children of their leafy adornment. Our addict believes that this is akin to undertaking recovery – we strip ourselves of the heavy armour of drugs and insanity we seemingly clad our vulnerable beings with. We shiver in the cold, aflicted with flu and occasional frost bite from living life on life’s terms. Its hard, its cold and more often than not, we long for the devilishly enticing warmth of our self defeating armour.

Perhaps this is focussing on the wrong side of our soul change of season. Its hard to see the point of being stripped bare while it is happening. This our addict intimately understands and is challenged by on a daily basis. The only way she can fathom why is by playing the movie forward – the positive one – that says blossoms will bloom, rebirth will occur and our addicts previously exhausted being will be embraced by long days of warmth that will help her grow instead of acidically eating through the remaining fragments of her pained being. And so she willingly continues in the proverbial pruning of her being, living and being prepared for her new life.

Gifts of recovery – clarity of mind, health, laughter, family and friends you really spend time with are like potting soil on her changing being, mulching her with renewed hope, love, experience and laughter. And although there are fucking difficult times and hardcore moments – our addict loves it. Loves living, the groups, companionship and the blessing of each new dawn. This is only but the beginning of her season of serenity and at the advent of winter in Johannesburg, our addict is wonderfully warmer than she’s ever been.

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