Recovery Month – Day 17 – 3 LIFE CHANGING WORDS

Three words...' GOD HELP ME,' have changed more lives than any other three-word phrase known to humankind.

— JMeyer —

September is National Recovery Month.

My blogs will focus throughout September on addiction and its life-destroying tendencies. The writings derive from my experiences of battling addiction and living a life of recovery.

These specific writings are focused on the ACT acronym.

ACT leads to sobriety…

A – Acknowledge you have a problem, are powerless over it, and need help.

– Connect with a power greater than you and people with solutions to help you conquer your problem.

T – Take positive, recovery-oriented action every day.

From September 1 through the 7th, I wrote about the importance of Acknowledging there is a problem. For the past several days, I’ve focused on Connection and its role in whipping addiction.

Today’s post is a continuation of yesterday’s post.

As I noted yesterday, by late July of 1987, I had pretty much given up all hope of conquering my problem.

At this point, I began thinking of ways to end my life. I figured my wife and kids would be better off without me. I also knew I wouldn’t have to go to jail if I died.

The craziness gets even crazier as I had almost died from a perforated duodenal ulcer due to my excessive drug use in March of the same year, and I often wished I would have died…yes 1987 was a crazy year.

I need to note that this particular post is harrowing for me to write, but its content is required to give that one reader without hope some hope.  

There is hope because Thirty-five years and two days ago (September 15, 1987), I walked out of a five-week inpatient chemical dependency program, finally free from the bondage of addiction with the tools I needed to help me remain free, one day at a time.

But back to reality.

I wanted to die, and the process began with isolation and becoming disconnected from everyone who tried to help me. My thoughts were growing crazier, the drugs no longer relieved my depression and anxiety, and paranoia had set in. I was taking the drugs to stay out of withdrawal.

I even began running from the police, and they weren’t chasing me…I was at rock bottom without a clue.

Then late at night on August 8, 1987, just before passing out (I no longer fell asleep), the devil again began to “counsel” me on ways to conveniently end my misery by ending my life.

Then God turned my head toward a picture of my two boys. I was overwhelmed with guilt, remorse, and shame at that moment. I thought, “How could I ever leave them and my wife, who was pregnant with our third child? Only a coward would do that.” I thought, “I need to man up and quit running from my problems; my parents did not raise me this way.”

Then in a moment of weakness or strength, however you want to look at it, I threw my hands up in the air and said the most powerful prayer known to mankind: “GOD HELP ME!”

More to follow tomorrow…

Matthew 11:28, ” Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”


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