It was 20 years ago today...
Celebrating 20 Years of Recovery!
It was 20 years ago--on March 3, 1990--that I hit my bottom with shoplifting and with life as it was. I was in the middle of law school--just shy of 25--and I'd been shoplifting and stealing from work for nearly 10 years. My relationship with my girlfriend was on the rocks--mostly because of me. My father was in a wheelchair from a stroke and had begun drinking again. I was anxious about accumulating more student debt with just-passing grades and no real desire to be an attorney. My shoplifting and stealing were out of control. I was stressed, depressed and at my wit's end. I actually began to think of suicide as the only way to end my pain, the only way to escape. And, worst of all, nobody really knew how I felt and nobody knew I'd been stealing all this time. I was lost. I was alone...
"My world was crumbling. I knew I needed help. It was at this point that I told my Mom and Dad I needed to see a counselor. I told them I was depressed. I told them I had been shoplifting for the last several years. They were shocked but both were
supportive. My Mom said she had a feeling something was going on. She thought it was drugs. My Dad was clueless because of his condition. They knew I was a good person and believed it must be more of an emotional problem. I started seeing a psychologist. There was a ray of hope.
"But a week later, my Mom went out of town. I'd seen my new counselor once but was still unstable. I was feeling down and all alone. I got this idea to try to get back with (my girlfriend). I felt desperate, restless. My thoughts took over...
"I can't stand it! What have I done? I hate my life! Pain... there's only pain! Nothing's fair. I didn't mean to hurt her... I can't believe my life has come to this. I can't sit still. I can't stay here. I've gotta do something... I could go to the supermarket and get something... maybe a bottle of champagne, like the one I took before... That'll show her I love her... Just do it! Grab your trench coat, the long one. Saturday mornings are pretty busy there, no one will notice... I'll just go, get it, and come home...
"Okay, we're here... Just act calm. You know the trick. Walking... through... the doors... Okay, I'm in. Look around... Everything looks okay. Act normal... act friendly. Smile... Don't browse too long. Just go to the champagne aisle... Okay, we're here... Nobody's watching... Which one should I get? This one'll do... wait! Look around... Act normal... Okay, looks clear... Take the bottle and slip it under your coat... Act like you're looking for something... Okay... get out of here...
"Okay, now stay calm, just walk out... Who are those two guys at the door? I'm screwed! Keep calm...
"Excuse me, sir. Could you come with us?
"Somebody shoot me... I want to die..."
(Excerpted from "Something for Nothing: Shoplifting Addiction and Recovery," 2003, pages 20-21)
How many of us have had a "just shoot me" moment? How many of us can relate to the feeling of "hitting a bottom"?
When I re-read these lines from my story, from my life, it feels like that was only yesterday yet, at the same time, it feels like it was a dream, like it wasn't even me. But I know it was me: I was arrested (my second time) I did go to court, I did plead guilty, and I did continue in counseling. I did begin my recovery journey. And I can only imagine where I'd be--who I'd be--had I not taken that first big step... and kept on the path.
Twenty years later my life still feels like a dream sometimes. I could never have guessed that things would have evolved as they had. I never would have guessed that I'd start a support group, C.A.S.A. (Cleptomaniacs And Shoplifters Anonymous) in 1992. I never would have guessed that I'd go back to school and earn a Masters in social work in 1997. I never would have dreamed that I'd meet a woman as wonderful as my future wife, Tina. I never would have imagined I'd write and publish a book about shoplifting in 2003 and--less than a year later--be on The Oprah Winfrey Show. I never would have imagined that I'd be counseling shoplifters and others who steal. I am grateful for my addiction.
I guess it only goes to show: you never know what life will bring and what we can create as we put one step in front of the other and just keep moving forward, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.
And who knows what tomorrow will bring? I certainly don't. Of course, there's been many ups and downs over the last two decades in my life and I'm pretty sure there's still some ups and downs ahead. Still, I'm continuing to learn to be grateful for the journey in all its ragged, meandering splendor. It's sure the heck got to be better than how I was living in my addiction.
Today, at least, I know I have choices--and when I forget that, I have plenty of good people around me to remind me! Today, at least, I know I am a co-creator of my life, for better or for worse. Today, at least, I know, I feel less lost and more found. Today, I know, I am not alone.
Thank you all who have supported me in so many ways over these last 20 years of my recovery. I hope I may stay grounded, humble, and passionate about life and about serving life and others in a healthy way.
It was 20 years ago--on March 3, 1990--that I hit my bottom with shoplifting and with life as it was. I was in the middle of law school--just shy of 25--and I'd been shoplifting and stealing from work for nearly 10 years. My relationship with my girlfriend was on the rocks--mostly because of me. My father was in a wheelchair from a stroke and had begun drinking again. I was anxious about accumulating more student debt with just-passing grades and no real desire to be an attorney. My shoplifting and stealing were out of control. I was stressed, depressed and at my wit's end. I actually began to think of suicide as the only way to end my pain, the only way to escape. And, worst of all, nobody really knew how I felt and nobody knew I'd been stealing all this time. I was lost. I was alone...
"My world was crumbling. I knew I needed help. It was at this point that I told my Mom and Dad I needed to see a counselor. I told them I was depressed. I told them I had been shoplifting for the last several years. They were shocked but both were
supportive. My Mom said she had a feeling something was going on. She thought it was drugs. My Dad was clueless because of his condition. They knew I was a good person and believed it must be more of an emotional problem. I started seeing a psychologist. There was a ray of hope.
"But a week later, my Mom went out of town. I'd seen my new counselor once but was still unstable. I was feeling down and all alone. I got this idea to try to get back with (my girlfriend). I felt desperate, restless. My thoughts took over...
"I can't stand it! What have I done? I hate my life! Pain... there's only pain! Nothing's fair. I didn't mean to hurt her... I can't believe my life has come to this. I can't sit still. I can't stay here. I've gotta do something... I could go to the supermarket and get something... maybe a bottle of champagne, like the one I took before... That'll show her I love her... Just do it! Grab your trench coat, the long one. Saturday mornings are pretty busy there, no one will notice... I'll just go, get it, and come home...
"Okay, we're here... Just act calm. You know the trick. Walking... through... the doors... Okay, I'm in. Look around... Everything looks okay. Act normal... act friendly. Smile... Don't browse too long. Just go to the champagne aisle... Okay, we're here... Nobody's watching... Which one should I get? This one'll do... wait! Look around... Act normal... Okay, looks clear... Take the bottle and slip it under your coat... Act like you're looking for something... Okay... get out of here...
"Okay, now stay calm, just walk out... Who are those two guys at the door? I'm screwed! Keep calm...
"Excuse me, sir. Could you come with us?
"Somebody shoot me... I want to die..."
(Excerpted from "Something for Nothing: Shoplifting Addiction and Recovery," 2003, pages 20-21)
How many of us have had a "just shoot me" moment? How many of us can relate to the feeling of "hitting a bottom"?
When I re-read these lines from my story, from my life, it feels like that was only yesterday yet, at the same time, it feels like it was a dream, like it wasn't even me. But I know it was me: I was arrested (my second time) I did go to court, I did plead guilty, and I did continue in counseling. I did begin my recovery journey. And I can only imagine where I'd be--who I'd be--had I not taken that first big step... and kept on the path.
Twenty years later my life still feels like a dream sometimes. I could never have guessed that things would have evolved as they had. I never would have guessed that I'd start a support group, C.A.S.A. (Cleptomaniacs And Shoplifters Anonymous) in 1992. I never would have guessed that I'd go back to school and earn a Masters in social work in 1997. I never would have dreamed that I'd meet a woman as wonderful as my future wife, Tina. I never would have imagined I'd write and publish a book about shoplifting in 2003 and--less than a year later--be on The Oprah Winfrey Show. I never would have imagined that I'd be counseling shoplifters and others who steal. I am grateful for my addiction.
I guess it only goes to show: you never know what life will bring and what we can create as we put one step in front of the other and just keep moving forward, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.
And who knows what tomorrow will bring? I certainly don't. Of course, there's been many ups and downs over the last two decades in my life and I'm pretty sure there's still some ups and downs ahead. Still, I'm continuing to learn to be grateful for the journey in all its ragged, meandering splendor. It's sure the heck got to be better than how I was living in my addiction.
Today, at least, I know I have choices--and when I forget that, I have plenty of good people around me to remind me! Today, at least, I know I am a co-creator of my life, for better or for worse. Today, at least, I know, I feel less lost and more found. Today, I know, I am not alone.
Thank you all who have supported me in so many ways over these last 20 years of my recovery. I hope I may stay grounded, humble, and passionate about life and about serving life and others in a healthy way.
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