My Choice: Recovery

When I entered treatment in December 2022, recovery was the last thing on my mind. I was there because I had nowhere else to go, I wanted to get my family off my back, and deep down, I feared that if I kept living the way I was, I might not survive. I wasn’t even sure I wanted sobriety at all.

I was 40 years old and had spent half of my life addicted to opioids. I wholeheartedly believed that any attempt at sobriety would be futile and kept asking myself how I could possibly start my life over after so much of it had been wasted. My inner voice was my biggest and loudest enemy, but I became willing to give myself a chance.

 

Quieting the Inner Critic

That questioning critic in my head got quieter, and I slowly began to realize the difference between sobriety and recovery. Sobriety was finding ways to manage not using drugs to escape the pain I had inside, while recovery was allowing that pain to heal. Being able to get through a difficult day without getting high was staying sober, but getting through that same day without wanting to get high was recovery. I found myself wanting to rebuild my life rather than just live it without drugs. I wanted to be in recovery.

Within days of completing residential treatment, I was involved in a hit-and-run while riding a scooter. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my first true “recovery moment” was being given to me by the universe. At the hospital, they told me I had broken five ribs and my sternum. My hand was also so badly fractured that it was going to require surgery. The emergency room doctor also told me he wanted to admit me to manage my pain, which meant pain medication. The opiate addict in me silently screamed, “Yes, please!,” while at the same moment, I heard myself ask the doctor to be discharged, as long as nothing else was medically wrong.

Even I was dumbfounded in the minutes that followed. I was in total disbelief that I had just turned down pain medication, especially in a scenario where it was being legitimately offered. In the days that followed, I was extremely uncomfortable and in physical pain. The pain was accompanied by uncertainty, fear, and frustration.

 

At the time, I couldn’t have explained it, but some part of me knew that this was a make it or break it moment. And it wasn’t about staying sober or not; I was determined not to turn back down the road I had just traveled. Would it have been easier to feel sorry for myself? Or ruminate over how, of course, something like this happens now that I am sober? Yes, it would have been easier. But everything I had just been taught told me that recovery wasn’t about taking the easy path.

I reached out for help and accountability from the people who truly loved me. I focused on taking suggestions and trying to stay open-minded. Instead of snapping back with defensiveness when my family questioned my version of the car accident (and my sobriety), I listened. And when the physical pain and discomfort from my injuries hit, I reminded myself—I could be just as uncomfortable sitting in a meeting as I was lying in bed doing nothing. So I went to meetings, got a sponsor, and stayed connected to the community that had started to surround me.

I discovered that I could face whatever life threw at me—not just without drugs, but with humility and acceptance. Looking back, I’m grateful that such a difficult experience came so early in my journey. It gave me the chance to prove to myself that even in the hardest moments, no matter how tempting the easier path looks, I can always choose recovery.

 

I completed programming at Scottsdale Recovery Center in April of 2023, and in November began to work at SRC as a peer support specialist. Recently, I became a case manager. I am currently pursuing my BS in Counseling from GCU. My purpose and passion in life is to help people on their recovery journeys! Amanda’s sobriety date is December 22, 2022.