You Can Choose Recovery For Someone Other Than Yourself

In my experiences battling opioid use disorder, I have been told, "You cannot stop using for anybody but yourself.” It is widely shared that a person suffering with addiction cannot change their lives for their kids, spouse, or family—recovery MUST be for them to work.

I have heard this in rehabs, psych wards, and N.A. meetings. When those individuals would put limits on my recovery outcome in that way, it would baffle me, as I did not relate or accept that as truth. For me, that was categorically false.

I didn't chose recovery for me

My choosing recovery from opioid use disorder was not at all about me or for me—it began as a journey rooted in duty to my family, especially my beloved brother and daughter. I couldn’t comprehend loving myself enough to begin participating in my own recovery, but I loved them enough to try.

My brother was diagnosed with cancer during the worst of my IV opiate addiction. The only thing he had ever asked of me was to stop using opiates, to not allow our mother to lose us both, and to be a good mom. We were both deteriorating rapidly, suffering from two very different diseases. I chose mine, but he didn’t. The guilt of this reality haunted me.

My brother deserved to live

The last time that he asked this of me was just before he entered hospice, where I visited him. I needed to apologize to him for my absence during this tragic time in his life and promised him that I would change, but I knew I was lying when I said it. My brother departed this Earth July 17, 2017. He was 33.

The following months after his passing became unfathomable. His words, his plea for me to survive in his absence began to play on a loop within my mind. I couldn’t make sense of the fact that I was still here, but he wasn’t. He deserved to be here. He didn’t choose cancer, but I absolutely chose the life with an addiction to IV opiates.

Family became my motive

Guilt is one of the most crushing emotions that I have ever felt. Ironically, that guilt also perpetuated my addictions. Eventually, those feelings of guilt became feelings of duty. I realized that the only way that I could remedy my guilt and deliver on the empty promises that I made to him was to surrender to the process of recovery.

I entered recovery on January 27, 2018. My brother wasn’t here to witness this change, but he was the fundamental factor in how it happened.

Choosing recovery for me, in time

I often think back to being told that my recovery wouldn’t “work” if I wasn’t doing it for myself, and I am disappointed by that narrative being pushed in places where I was seeking help. I've learned that no matter what reason gets you through the first door of recovery, it's something to be grateful for.

I didn’t begin my recovery journey for me. Eventually, my recovery became about me, but it certainly didn’t start that way. Celebrating whatever brings you to the point of surrendering to this process is something that should be widely supported.

It breaks my heart that my brother losing his life is how I saved mine. Recovery isn’t a linear journey, and any reason, purpose, person or circumstance that leads to someone turning their life around is something to appreciate.