Recovery Inspiration

I can hold my head up high, be proud of who I am, and be open about my recovery

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I have been battling addiction since the age of 12 and I’ve had years of sobriety followed by years of relapses. My best time high doesn’t come close to my worse time sober. I am no longer a slave to addiction. I don’t have to be the person I once was. It’s a freeing feeling not waking up sick worrying about the next high. I have hope and faith and real friends. I can hold my head up high, be proud of who I am, and be open about my recovery. It’s a battle but a battle I’m not willing to lose. I wake up with faith and joy! One day at a time I get stronger! The struggle is real. My name is Raeanne and #THISISRECOVERY.

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The Healing Truth of a Stranger

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Our family suffered a terrible tragedy, the death of our son and Henry’s brother, David. David died of a drug overdose on 12/20/15. David was well into rehab at a very well regarded treatment center. By all accounts he was doing well. We had planned a visit to David two weeks after he died. Henry has been mourning the loss of his brother ever since. Only yesterday (10/27/16) Henry told me (his mother) about the following as we were driving home from school. He had never mentioned any of this until yesterday. The day after David died, Henry was understandably in search of meaning regarding losing David. He was browsing on Instagram and saw a post written by a young woman who was struggling with heroin addiction. Henry responded to her post with the following message, which he did not want me to share with others, but I can’t help…

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COR: A Tenderloin Tale of Hope

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I no longer drink alcohol. It’s something I need to explain, because it’s something I don’t fully understand. This is a relatively recent thing, I should add. I have been dry for sixteen months, after nearly 50 years of… not being dry. My earliest exposure to alcohol came in a religious context. At my parents’ Passover table one year – I must have been five or six – I discovered that the sweet wine used in the service produced a dizzying sensation that was at once both frightening and funny. After that, I looked forward to the sips and small cups that punctuated Sabbath and festival observance, and which, with the benefit of hindsight, served as the nursery slopes of (much) more copious drinking as an adult. In my first career, as a peripatetic double-bass player, alcohol was the sea in which we all swam. From my decade of small-time…

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