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We hear about how addiction tears apart entire families, cause things like codependency, enabling, and trust issues, however, all that pain can often produce a great opportunity to rebuild. To start fresh. To foster those relationships those of us who have battled addiction never really had the opportunity to have. Recovery isn’t just about abstinence – it’s about having a second chance at life and a second chance to be the person we always wanted to be.
A huge part of my recovery was becoming the daughter that my parents deserve.
Shutting my Father Out
Even before I started abusing drugs I pushed my father away. I was an extremely insecure child and my dad is an emotional guy. He has no problem getting vulnerable and using his weaknesses and his strengths. He’s humble, loving, forgiving, and empathetic. I, on the other hand, was reserved. Despite my dad being the example of what a healthy individual is like, I shoved my emotions deep down inside. I isolated myself from everyone – but especially from him.
He was and is the best father a girl could ask for. He loves me deeply and unconditionally. As a young girl, he never missed a dance recital or soccer game. Throughout my teen years, he never missed a single basketball game. When I was applying to colleges he continuously offered his emotional support. Regardless of his attempts, for some reason, I couldn’t accept his love. I couldn’t tell you exactly why that was – maybe I didn’t love myself to feel worthy enough of a man’s love that was so transparent and so unwavering.
When he would try to spend time with me, I made a million excuses as to why I couldn’t make time for my dad. When he would ask me how my day was, my response would be cold and short. Perhaps I was incapable of being as vulnerable as he was, so his vulnerability made me feel uncomfortable. Whatever the case may be, I never allowed him in.
I went off to college and drugs came into the picture. My dad stopped calling because it was too painful to watch his intelligent, beautiful daughter slowly destroy her life. I didn’t make the effort to visit home because drugs were more important. The only time I called him after I left for college was from a jail cell, asking for bail money. It’s selfish and manipulative, but, unfortunately, that’s where my addiction took me.
I wish I could say I got sober after that moment and began to heal the relationship with my father, but I had to reach a much darker place first. I spent the next two years ruining friendships, getting fired from jobs, getting kicked out of school, and bouncing from couch to couch just to keep a roof over my head. I had no contact with my father until June 2016.
I intentionally overdosed and found myself in the hospital refusing treatment. I was deeply depressed, hopeless, and utterly convinced that I would die with a needle in my arm. I was spending every last penny on drugs to the point where I couldn’t even afford contact lenses – making myself unable to see clearly five feet in front of me.
Suddenly, I heard a voice, shaking with fear, say my name followed by a sigh of relief. I didn’t recognize the voice, and I couldn’t clearly see the face. He stepped closer, and I immediately knew it was my dad.
It was the night before fathers day, and he was standing by his daughter’s hospital bed, terrified that he would never see his daughter alive again. He held me as he cried, begging me to get help. Never once did he criticize, judge, or condemn me. Instead, he encouraged me. He told me that I was strong and worthy of recovery.
The following day is my sobriety date.
Rebuilding in Sobriety
I completed three months in treatment and took the suggestions of my peers to become involved in a 12 step fellowship. Fortunately, I threw myself into the steps with the same urgency that I chased my drugs with. I had a taste of sobriety and I wanted more.
One of the steps involves making amends with people I harmed. I was eager to do my father’s amends, but I was told to wait. After all, I didn’t yet know the severity of how badly my addiction affected him. In addition, I had muttered the words, “I’m sorry” more times than I can count without changing my behaviors. To really make honest amends to him, I had to first show him that I was a different person. I had to be a daughter for the first time in my life. I had to let him in.
In the beginning, it was too terrifying to visit home. Instead, I took my time setting the foundation for my recovery while living in a halfway house thousands of miles away from home. I needed the separation from old people, places, and things in order to discover the woman I could grow to be. I needed to shed my old identity completely and recreate myself, my beliefs, and my morals.
Instead, I started small – with regular phone calls. After all, relationships don’t happen overnight. I had to put in some effort to develop a relationship with my dad. Each time he answered the phone, I could sense the relief in his voice that I was still sober and that I was still okay. I slowly began to grasp the true weight that my addiction had placed on him. Our conversations were initially surface level but quickly became deeper as I got to know my dad for the first time in my life. Little by little, I worked on an amends letter that I would later read to him.
At a year and a half sober, I finally felt like my recovery was solid enough and that I was emotionally ready to spend the holidays with my parents. I was ready to make my amends with them and show them that I had changed. During the amends with my dad, I showed my regret for shutting him out of my life in years prior. I explained to him how I would call more often, visit home, and put effort into having a relationship with him. Lastly, I promised him that I would do everything in my ability to ensure my sobriety. As expected, he received my amends with an open, forgiving heart. His eyes were filled with tears as he gave me a hug. He showed me that it’s okay to get vulnerable, it’s necessary to forgive, and most of all, it’s acceptable to start over.
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