From Trials to Triumph:
A Personal Story of Healing and Hope
My name is **** and I am an addict. I have been in recovery for longer than I used, but it still feels like yesterday that my life spiraled out of control. I come from a long line of alcoholics, and despite abhorring their choices, I found it all too easy to turn to alcohol and drugs every time I felt overwhelmed. And I felt overwhelmed a lot. As a kid, I had the usual adolescent concerns . . . Am I cool enough? Good looking enough? Smart enough? And I discovered at 13 that I could check off at least a few of those boxes with a cigarette. A beer. A pill. Really, whatever was handy that helped me not feel like me. As I got older, I discovered more substances and behaviors that could take me outside of myself, at least for a little while. I partied and thought that's just what people do because I didn't know anything else.
At 18, I met a like-minded individual who introduced me to the first great love of my life: heroin. After my 19th birthday, we moved to California, living out of a car until we could scrape up enough to get a small apartment. We got jobs, but still slept on the floor because we couldn't afford both drugs and furniture. We thought we were fine.
Heroin does that. It takes every worry and fear and turns it into a warm blanket of content indifference. But the habit insists upon itself, and before long, we were homeless again. I ended up kicking a $120/day habit on a bus back to the East coast, to beg my folks to give us a place to stay. I was sicker than I thought someone could be and still live. I swore I would never put myself through that again.
It took about two months before we were back on drugs. We broke any number of laws to support our habit, but it's not a sustainable life. We got kicked out of my parents' house and got ourselves arrested. As soon as we were out on bail, we attempted suicide in a fast food bathroom. I prayed that we would take our last breath together, because I simply saw no way out for us. I had never learned how to deal with life on life's terms, and my partner sure didn't help. What kind of future could we have if all we knew was drugs? We survived, but not before we had ruined every relationship in our lives. Friends, families, jobs, homes . . . Gone. Again and again.
Eventually, several attempts to quit, a stint in rehab, halfway houses, and a very pivotal break-up with a certain bad influence later, I realized that the real problem wasn't the drugs. It was me. At this point, I had somehow managed to luck into an office job and had enrolled myself in community college just so I could say I was working towards something. I still felt like I was somehow less than everyone around me, but I got good grades for the most part and I did well at work. Still, the old habit insists, and the last time I picked up, I couldn't stop. Years had gone by and here I was, addicted and praying for death yet again. Something had to change. I had to learn to ask for help. It's funny . . . they say “ask and ye shall receive” but I had no idea how much I would get. I called my parents, who had long since disowned me, and begged them to help me. For the first time, I was entirely candid about how far down my life had spiraled and how desperate I was for change. And despite everything I had done to
I learned that my life could have some purpose, that I could help people, that I could be worthwhile to have around. I learned that while I may never be cool enough, good looking enough, or smart enough, I am enough, just the way I am. And I always was.
them, they helped me get the treatment that saved my life. I learned how to quiet the habit, so its insistence no longer governed my choices.
I learned that my life could have some purpose, that I could help people, that I could be worthwhile to have around. I learned that while I may never be cool enough, good looking enough, or smart enough, I am enough, just the way I am. And I always was.
My life took off from there. I worked my program, went to meetings, volunteered, worked steps, and slowly but surely rebuilt a far more stable existence. I excelled in school and met my second great love: the law. I loved the idea of figuring out why things are the way they are . . . why the laws say what they do, and how they evolved to say just that and nothing else. So, naturally, I went to law school. I graduated summa cum laude with more than a few accolades and got an amazing job with one of the country's largest groups of practitioners. Think about that. The junky criminal who wanted nothing more than to die is now a practicing attorney. I met my third great love and now I have a family - spouse, kids, mortgage, pets - the whole enchilada. And I help people for a living. With the chemicals gone, I don't need to not feel like me. Because I am and always was a pretty awesome person; I just needed a little help to see that.
Thank you to my parents, my family, AA and NA, and everyone else who believed in me when I couldn't. Thank you to MSBA LAP for getting me through the Character Committee and keeping my recovery fresh in my mind. If I can just remember to ask for help, I need never forget that I am, and always was, enough.
The Lawyer Assistance Program provides free, confidential assistance to all Maryland lawyers, judges, law school students, and support staff by offering assessment, referral, short-term counseling, and continued support to ensure long term success. If you are concerned about another lawyer you can make an anonymous referral to LAP. We offer financial assistance for Mental Health and Addiction Treatment.
Please feel free to reach out to our LAP Committee Members and Volunteers www.msba.org/health-and-wellness/