Rebel Loss

Before my first addiction recovery meeting, I almost had a meltdown. I had no idea who would be in there (Drug addicts? Alcoholics? Abusers? Sex offenders? Abusees?), and I sat in my car shaking because in my mind: my problem was just food, right? Food addictions weren't that bad, right? I could do it on my own just one more time, right?

Wrong.

So I sat there, feeling like I was walking into a lions' den (Would these people look down on me? Would they hate me? It's just food. It's not like heroin, or alcohol or cocaine. Their addictions are way worse than mine, right?), and as the clock ticked closer to 7 PM, I knew I had to make a choice: go in, or leave.

What I didn't realize was that there are always more than two choices, but I never would have learned that had I not taken that first step into the door.

That first meeting was surprisingly sparse, and I am so thankful it was. There were only two group leaders and two other participants: one man and one woman. The man was a recovering drug addict who had been sober for about six months, and the woman was coping with an alcoholic son along with her own addiction with food.

Food!

I don't remember what was said in that meeting, but I do remember an overwhelming, peaceful feeling wash over me as I learned that I was not alone. There were other people out there who understood my unhealthy relationship with food. They were seeking recovery too!

That night as I drove home, I no longer felt isolated. I no longer felt fearful of admitting that I needed help. It was liberating to know that there were so many other people around the world seeking recovery – for whatever addiction they were overcoming – and that there really was hope for me.

What I didn't know then was that by attending that first meeting, I had stepped through a doorway that lead to a vast network of information, support and - dare I believe it - love from people all over the Las Vegas valley; people from all walks of life and all stages of recovery were there to help me through mine. To this day, three years later, it still blows my mind.

And guess what? There were drug addicts. There were alcoholics. There were sex offenders, abusers and abusees sitting in these meetings. There were also food addicts, shopping addicts, and people trying to overcome anger issues, depression, and trauma. There were genealogy addicts, co-dependents and those who lost family members, friends, acquaintances, and coworkers to addiction, disease and accidents.

We were all seeking help to overcome these issues, and we found a place where we could share our burdens, fears, and pain with others who were also seeking help. We were all there to rise above our pasts and gain more tools to keep us in recovery - and to help others in theirs. We were all there to find peace and hope for sinners, co-dependents and addicts like us.

And we're finding them. Boy, are we finding them.

I have never learned most of these men and women's last names; but these wonderful, amazing and courageous people have become my best and most trusted friends I have ever had.

And that was well worth taking that first step into the (supposed) lions' den.