I don’t beat an addiction, or an obsession, or a compulsion

I ask for help

and I ask for that help only after I’ve been beaten…changed…almost beyond recognition…at my lowest point…my most self-defeated self…

and, somehow, after a sincere call out for help into the vastness of the cosmos

enough help shows up every time I ask and somehow addiction doesn’t beat me 

today…one day at a time…we’ve all heard it…this is what it means…

grace and help and goodness show up whenever I sincerely ask—not demand—and so…I keep asking. (It feels like a no-brainer choice to me…so, what do I know?)

and…somehow the miracle of love, and all the moments of goodness that surround love

show themselves again and again in the most unexpected of ways and personages

So…if someone is before me (I did not seek them out) and they mention in our conversation, as might be expected, that they’re in recovery,  I ask them,

And ask you to ask them…if and when you yourself care and dare…if and when someone who is stating or claiming to be recovering from anything they were addicted to…ask them if they would be so kind as to explain what happened…meaning precisely this: there was the person in addiction and the person now in front of us stating to be in recovery. Don’t doubt them. Simply ask them, “So, what happened?”

If the first three words to come out from them next, and I mean next, as in the first words, aren’t these three: “I don’t know…”

Walk away. Or just listen to be polite. You’ll be listening to fiction. 

True that.                                                                 

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