Celebrating 3 Years Sober: Saved By Grace

One day at a time can feel like an eternity when you are in the moment. Especially early on in recovery when some days you have to grind just to make it 24 hours without taking a drug or a sip of alcohol.

When you stack a few of those days together, however, and reflect on recovery time later on, it feels like time moves TOO fast. So here I am, in May 2023, looking back on a bunch of 24 hours stacked together to equal a number I am very proud of. As of May 12th, I have stayed sober for 1096 days in a row, which is exactly three years.

In a way, it almost doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I think about pinching myself, just wondering how I got to this point. I mean, I haven’t touched a mind-altering substance in three years, and if you knew me from the 15-plus-years I spent using drugs, you might understand how big of a deal that is.

Truthfully, though, I don’t feel like I played as big of a part in this as God did. Something happened three years ago that I cannot explain or comprehend. Call it a spiritual awakening, a miracle, or maybe it was just me FINALLY maturing. Label it how you want, but what happened was a complete change in personality and attitude, and an understanding of how my actions hurt other people. It is like a switch just flipped in my soul.

I have to be honest. I have been a little reluctant to talk about God in this setting, but not because I am ashamed of my faith. Rather, part of me doesn’t feel right boasting about God performing a miracle in my life, because what makes my life more valuable than others? I know so many people who have died from drug overdoses, including one of my best friends, Andrew. How would it make me look if I wrote about God saving me, while parents of loved ones who died from addiction wonder, “how could God save him but not my child?” I am not above any of them, so I hesitate to make it seem like my life was worth more. It wasn’t.

I don’t have the answers to such deep and profound questions. I don’t get into the why. That can drive a person crazy. But there is a feeling inside me that knows none of this happened by my own willpower. The way this all played out was something WAY beyond my doing. Let me try to break it down.

First, when I stopped using on May 12^th, 2020, it was after a drug overdose that almost took my life. It took six Narcan injections at McLaren Hospital to save me, and I was turning blue when I arrived. If I had arrived a couple of minutes later, they said I wouldn’t have made it. I was rushed to the hospital by a drug dealer – of all people – after he rode with me to the store, a trip that almost didn’t happen. Here is how:

I copped drugs from him that day, left his driveway and used the drugs as soon as I got a block down the street, which was a large dose of methadone after I had already taken xanax and cocaine earlier. A couple of minutes later he called me and asked if I would come back to take him to the store. After he got into the car and I started driving, I began to feel funny and pulled over. I then fell out of consciousness and stopped breathing. Thankfully instead of ditching me like many dealers would, he hopped in the driver’s seat and rushed me to the hospital, which without a doubt saved my life.

After I recovered in the hospital for a week, I decided to go back to treatment. My probation officer told me to check in to a place called K-Pep, so I set up an intake there. Just two days before I was set to go in, though, Phil Pavona (a local recovery advocate who runs Families Against Narcotics) strongly suggested that I go to Bear River, which I had never heard of. My probation officer was okay with the idea and let me go. I was still unsure of Bear River and at the time had zero hope that I would be able to stay sober. I had given up after countless relapses; I was only going to try to stay out of jail (this was during the beginning of COVID when probation officers were not arresting many people, allowing people to try alternatives to jail).

After I got to Bear River, only intending to stay the minimum of 30 days and just get out as soon as possible, I was sent to detox for five days. When I completed my detox, Bear River switched me over to the residential part of the program. I was nervous, hopeless, and ashamed, and felt emotionally bankrupt on the ride over. “25 more days and I will be out of here,” I told myself.

I was then walked into the group room, and as I sat down, I glanced around the room to see the guys I would be living with for the next few weeks. I immediately noticed James, a friend from my hometown of Mason that I grew up with. I couldn’t believe it. Way up in northern Michigan, three hours from home, in a secluded rehab in the woods, and I was randomly put into the same group as him. What are the chances?

That moment changed my life. James told me he had been there for a month and that he loved the place. “This place has saved my life bro. I am staying here as long as I can,” he said. That joyful and hopeful demeanor recovery had given him inspired me. If James could do it, I could do it. Over the next couple days I decided I could actually do this, and talking with him more, he convinced me to say 90 days instead of the month I was planning.

That 90 days - like it had with James - helped bring about the change I talked about earlier. We had two therapists that led our group who broke us down and built us back up. They saw right through me, and they motivated me to evaluate my morals, belief system, and spirituality. I started looking at life differently. Instead of always thinking about me, I began to see my life through the eyes of my family, and how much I had hurt them. I felt so selfish and resented what kind of father, son, and brother I had been. My personality started changing, and I started to hate the thought of putting drugs into my body again. It was the first time I didn’t want to leave a rehab. Something happened in there that changed the course of my life.

My therapists in Bear River started trying to convince me that I needed to go to sober living after leaving rehab instead of going back home. I had never given sober living a real shot before and didn’t plan on going that route until the last minute. When it got time for me to leave rehab - still intending to go back home - I started to get nervous and made a leap of faith to continue trusting my therapists. So, I called Pinnacle Recovery Services, where James went after leaving Bear River. I had known the owners of Pinnacle – Alina and Teresa - for years, but never thought I would end up in their program. I was unsure at first, but like what happened when I got to Bear River, I had a change of heart and decided to go all in. I stayed at Pinnacle for 9 months, and when it was getting time for me to leave there, Alina and Teresa approached me about working there. I couldn’t believe it. They saw something in me that I still didn’t quite see in myself. Even with that self-doubt, it was a no brainer. I felt like it was the opportunity I had always needed: to be able to work somewhere that allowed me to use my story to help others.

It has been two years since I started working at Pinnacle, and it is the job I was made for. I love it. I hope I work here my whole life. Sometimes, like today, I look back on how everything played out, and I can’t help but think everything happened for a reason. I know in my heart that it was a “God thing.” From the way I was saved by a drug dealer; to having the rehab I was supposed to go to changed at the last minute; to randomly being put in the same group as a childhood friend; to being convinced to attend sober living at Pinnacle; to then ending up working for Pinnacle. None of that was by any of my doing.

If I look at one or two of those life changing events alone, it can feel like a coincidence or lucky break. But when I put them all together and see how it led me here, there is no doubt it was God. That is why I am writing this. Not to boast or convince people, but because I hope it can show others that when all hope seems to be lost, life can change if you give it a chance. Don’t ever give up. Keep on picking yourself up when life knocks you down. Take a leap of faith and listen to your heart. There is a reason you are here on this earth, and you have a story to tell. I still think this is just the beginning of my story. I am not cured; I am not fixed. Three years is a huge accomplishment for me, but it doesn’t mean I can kick my feet back and tell myself I beat addiction. I am just grateful I am still here to be able to use my story. I urge you to dig deep and find your passion. Find what you were made to do, and go all in. It gives me a reason to get up in the morning, and if you find your calling, I promise it will for you, too.