“My name is Damien, and I’m an alcoholic.” This is the conventional way to introduce oneself at a meeting of the fellowship. It bugs me. The very first time I said these words they were incredibly powerful and liberating — when I finally said them, my surrender was complete. But as my sober time increases,

Well that was one hoopla, roller coaster of a year. Reflecting back over my 2015 was like watching fifteen different movies at the same time and not really having a clue what was going on in any of them. I’ve had some really high highs and some really low lows. However, I made it out

Happy New Year! A changing of the calendar page, turning over a new leaf, the hope of a new beginning. There is hope but there is also the illusion of imagining that a future day could mean more than the embrace of the present in a new or more faithful fashion. I am a rebel.

I learn so much from people at meetings. A month or so ago we were talking about intentions, and a woman said she “found the results of her intentions in her crisper bin.” We all burst out laughing, because we all know that drawer in the fridge—the one with exotic vegetables: celery root, kale, mustard

The illusion of uncertainty masks the depravity of the fear I feel locked in the void of not knowing but not wanting to stop either Looking out at the endless rain and mucky landscape there is always something else to ponder aways a sense of not being there yet And not knowing where the hell

Last night I sat in a circle with 124 other women. The questions were asked. What are you done with? What are you ready to scrub off yourself? What have you processed and cooked and beat to death this year? What are you ready to throw on the compost pile. I stress the word compost

I never planned for any of this to happen. But fuck, who does, I think to myself as I stand outside smoking a cigarette. It’s cold out. Winter approaches. Sky full of stars. Trees are all dead. Car windows frosted. It’s two in the morning. Can’t sleep but that’s nothing new. I like the cold.

The copy of Codependent No More in the attached picture, is my own. It’s evident from the condition of the cover, it’s been well read. On the back cover it reads, “Does someone else’s problem become your own problem? If so you may be codependent – and you may find yourself in this book.” Well,

With the ever increasing demands on us to function in our high pressure world, many of us find we live in a constant state of high alert and anxiety. I myself, spent over a decade in sustained high stress situations and having to deal with the reality of my shattered life in recovery, without anything

Good stress, bad stress – distress finds redress. The word stress comes up over and over again at this time of the year as the seasons change from Gratitude (Thanksgiving) to Shopping (Christmas.)  We move from being grateful for all we have to the sales and promotion influences of needing more.  This can cause pressure.