This is my favorite line from any type of recovery literature. I discharged from the treatment facility August 26 1998. I had obtained a small job, a little bit of clean time. I had no clue how to live in society.
I applied to move into a transitional house run by the Salvation Army. The place was exactly where I did not want to live. It was on the same street where I used drugs. It was in the same area. The difference- I had changed. I was willing to do anything necessary to stop using drugs. The problem was that I was scared of everything. Waves of dread would pour over me when I would stand near the door of my tiny room. The walls were bare. My shoes were lined in perfect order. My bed was made. Every item in the room was tidy but I was a mess inside.
Some days I would stand at my door and hold there. My heart was beating so fast the blood rose over me. I was weak with thought. I was never afraid to stick a needle in my arm but I was afraid to have a conversation. Frozen. I had no masks. I was stripped down to the core of insecurity. There were no drugs to stand between me and you. I was thrown into the world, reborn and alone. Frozen at the door.