Birthdays have never meant much to me. I grew up with a sister whose birthday was two days before mine. Ours was a childhood of shared birthday parties and identical cakes. Then when I got older they never seemed very special. Maybe that’s because I was born at the end of the January when the bills for Christmas presents have just started coming in. No matter the cause I always felt like celebrating a birthday was celebrating something I had nothing to do with.

Here in California they celebrate birthdays in the 12-step rooms. A 45-year old man blows out a cake with a fifteen on top of it. A woman in her sixties turns twenty. The room is filled with people of all ages, races and sexes. They sing, a little off key and sometimes out of sync, “Happy Birthday”. Then ask, also a little out of sync, “How’d you do it?” There are tears and laughter in the responses. They all have one thing in common. They have spent the year sober.

These are the birthdays that make sense to me. They are earned. The people celebrating fought for them. They showed up on the first day of at least 365. They sat down, shaky and sweating. They are depressed and anxious. More than anything they are scared. Everything is about to change. Everything.

Then they come back. Day after day. The sweats and shakes disappear. The depression and anxiety lessens. They know what to expect and are no longer scared to walk in the rooms. They begin to celebrate milestones. First comes 30 days, then 60, then 90, and 6 months. Finally a year.

With the passage of time the world gets less hazy. Emotions come back. Relationships begin to be repaired. I heard someone say in a meeting once “It’s called recovery because you are getting something you lost back, and that something is you.” I love that. To me it’s the core of the 12-step program.

The other thing I always hated about being “belly-button” birthdays is being the center of attention. I hated being singled out. Cards, flowers, balloons: No thank you. In the rooms celebrating birthdays isn’t about you, it’s about the other people. It’s about showing the person with less time it can be done. It’s hard but it can be done.

So next year on January 31^st I turn 36. I don’t think I’m going to celebrate much. Then on April 30^th I turn 1, god willing. That’s the birthday I will have earned.

What does it mean to be an addict or alcoholic? I’m not talking about the medical definition but at the core who are these people?

Here’s what I learned in my 10 years in and out of the rooms of a 12-step program.

Addicts and Alcoholics are resourceful. They’ve had to be. When your life revolves around obtaining a drug of choice, you have to be able to figure out how to get it no matter what. The last three words of that sentence almost becomes a motto.

They are smart. Both book smart and street smart. You want to learn something new, go to rehab. Most love to learn and are extremely teachable.

They are funny. Addicts and alcoholics have seen some stuff. They’ve had experiences, and they are a little twisted. They have a unique way of looking at the world. They can tell a story. I’ve never laughed harder and louder than I did in rehab.

Boredom, lack of sleep, hunger, being angry and being alone is really dangerous for alcoholics and addicts. Seriously, they talk about HALT (hungry, angry, lonely, tired) all the time in 12-step meetings. Those four things, plus boredom are some of the reason addicts started using in the first place. They are also the things that will bring them back to their DOC.

They take care of one another, fiercely. When someone is hurting or needs help they come together, often regardless of their personal feelings toward the person needing help. They are always good for a hug.

They’ve learned to pretend to be tough. They’ve learned how to pretend to be okay. They want you to think nothing is ever wrong. They wear a mask that hides the true person. A person who is sensitive. A person who loves and hates with their whole being.

They are forgiving and want to be forgiven. Such a huge part of getting sober is giving up the resentments, the hurts. To let go of the anger they have towards others, but mostly themselves. They also know that forgiving is not forgetting. They know about learning from mistakes.

Above all, they are survivors. They have been through hell and back and are still standing. They’ve cheated death. They’ve seen terrible things. They’ve had awful things happen to them, and done awful things to others. Yet, still they stand. Still they fight. They aren’t going anywhere.

It’s about 7 p.m. on a Wednesday night. It’s still over a hundred degrees outside in the desert. The air conditioning is blasting. You can hear laughter in the air.

In this nondescript building, in a nondescript neighborhood lives about 20 women. They come from all over the country. Some are older. Some still in their teens. They have a single thing in common. They are all fighting to stay sober.

The journey to get here hasn’t been easy for any of them. In the battle against drugs and alcohol these women were on the frontlines. Most are scarred, emotionally and physically. They lost friends and family to the disease. They are the survivors.

Surviving doesn’t mean winning. And these women want to see a victory. They want to see the scars fade, the hurt go away. That’s why they are here. But the thing about scars is you always know they are there, even after they disappear.

These women get up every morning. Brush their teeth and get dressed. Some head to therapy, some to work. It doesn’t matter, they are out of bed. They come in and out of each other’s lives all day every day. An absence never goes unnoticed. They fall asleep every night next to a fellow soldier.

There are injuries along the way, women who couldn’t take it anymore. But those women came back, more knowledgeable about the enemy and more determined to fight it than ever. They saw what happened if they gave up. There are also casualties. At least it feels that way. They leave a hole behind, even if they don’t mean to.

Others leave to resume the fight somewhere else. Back at home maybe. They are missed too, just in a different way. They call, say Hi. Check-in.

Strength comes in numbers and while about 20 doesn’t seem like a lot, for this group, it’s everything. For some of these women its more people then they interacted with in a month. There is always someone around to talk to, cry with, and laugh with.

It’s by no means perfect. No one wants to have a chore or a curfew at 30. That’s the tradeoff though. A few simple rules, in exchange for support in the fight. It’s better than the days of being hopelessly, helplessly alone.

In this nondescript building in a nondescript neighborhood sits a sober living. Inside sits some of the fiercest, funniest, smartest women fighting to save their lives.

What do you think when someone says tell me a story? Does it conjure up images of beasts and princesses? Maybe it’s a little more personal. A time when you laughed so hard you cried, or cried so hard you laughed. Chances are it’s a moment. Just a moment, that made an impression in your brain.
But what do you say when someone asks you to tell them your story. Where would you start? And how do you want it to end?
In 12-step programs you’ll hear people’s stories a lot. Where they were born, what their families were like, and most importantly about their addiction. How it started, where it took them, and the struggle to get and stay sober.
In the rooms nothing is taboo. All of the things you can’t tell anyone come out. Suicide attempts, child abuse, sex, and mental health. Nothing is off the table. No story is too dark, scary, or painful to tell. As they say, secrets make you sick.
I’ve heard a woman share the story of running over a child while drunk, a man who spent years in jail for a crime he can’t even remember committing, and multiple people sharing about living on the streets.
Sound bleak? It isn’t. Those stories all come with a message of hope. And often, believe it or not, laughter. The people telling them are no longer in deep, dark places. Recovery has helped them see a light. They keep talking about it and it just gets brighter. They keep telling their story.
It’s not easy. It gets easier. As cliché as it sounds telling your story just takes practice. It’s important. Words have power. Keep them inside and the words own you. Speak your truth and you get the power back. Again: YOU get the power back. Letting other people see that could change their life. It will change yours.
The nice thing about a recovery meeting is you get to start slow. No one is going to walk up to at your first meeting demanding to know everything, down to your social security number. They will ask your name and maybe where you’re from. After the meeting starts you may have to introduce yourself “Hi my name is and I’m an alcoholic.” That’s it.

Simple.

The start to a story.

It’s been called a weaponized form of marijuana by the police commissioner of New York City. On the street it’s known as Spice, K2, or Black Mamba depending on where you are in the country. The headlines say “synthetic marijuana”. No matter its name it’s killing people across America, most of them young.

Just take a look at the numbers. According to the Centers of Disease Control in just the first four months of 2015, 15 people lost their lives because of this drug. While that might not sound like a lot, it’s 3 times the number who died during 2014. During the same period, calls to poison control centers around the United States went up 229%. The median age of people making those calls, 26 years-old.

On a Facebook page titled Fake Pot Horror Stories-The Dangers of Synthetic Marijuana you’ll find picture after picture of people, most who haven’t even seen 20, hooked to machines, fighting for their lives. Not all made it.

The Government has tried to step in and do what it could. When Spice first appeared it was legal. That changed in 2012 when five of the main compounds were reclassified to a more controlled drug class. The drug came off the shelves and hit the streets.

Synthetic marijuana was considered relatively harmless by its users, a natural drug because at least part of it was made from plants. Sold in drug stores, head shops, and over the Internet it was easy to get. Users experience some of the same effects of marijuana like relaxation, elevated mood, and altered perception. Others reported psychotic effects, extreme anxiety, paranoia and hallucinations. In some cases users said the effects were even stronger than regular marijuana.

Scientist say that makes sense because they know Spice products act on the same receptors as THC, found in marijuana. It’s what else that goes into the drug compound that concerns them. Because the chemical composition of many products is unknown it’s hard to tell what they will do to the brain. And it just hasn’t been around that long to know what the long term effects are.

If scientists don’t know exactly what the drug does to the brain they are learning more about the impact on the body. According to the National Institute on Drug Abuse spice users who have been taken to Poison Control Center have reported rapid heart rates, vomiting, agitation, confusion and hallucinations. The drug can also raise blood pressure, causes reduced blood supply to the heart, and has even been associated with heart attacks.

Besides the high, Spice has another big draw. It doesn’t show up on most drug tests. To test positive the sample has to be sent to a laboratory and that can be expensive. However as most people in recovery will tell you it is hard to hide an addiction for long.

This two-day workshop  was a great success and a lot of fun. It gave everyone the opportunity to reach out to fellow colleagues, to meet, dine and socialize with like-minded professionals, to learn from each other, and to grow our outreach.

For information on how to attend our next event, please see our training schedule here.

Group Shot of the Recovery Resources Workshop attendees.

Group shot of attendees during the panel .

Steven Henke, Marketing Manager of Desert Sun speaking to the group.

The producer of the TV show “Intervention” speaking, with Eric the CEO of Intervention911.

Workshop attendees having fun.