It’s About Hope and Love

Submitted by: Marta Mrotek

I was first involved in the recovery community as a teenager when my mom got sober. I was in a supportive group for teens who have family members with substance use disorder first. I started having my own problems with drugs and alcohol when I became an older teenager. I was sent to a lot of counselors and started going to some twelve-step meetings with friends.

Recovery groups were just always around. My mom joined in the 12-step fellowship when I was 10 years old, so it was a big part of our family. By the time I turned 18, my own drinking and drug use became increasingly out of hand. I ended up going into rehab shortly after the high school years.

I definitely had those moments when I realized that something had to change. One story, in particular, stands out. It’s sort of the “first step” story that I use. Since I got sober so early in life, I don’t have years and years of trying to stop or control my use. But I did experience one night that I remember, because I recall coming out of a black out. I was at a party, and I was pulling cigarette butts out of the bottom of solo cups and drinking that last dredge of beer from the bottom of them.

I think the gift of remembering something so gross is that I came out of the blackout to at least remember that it happened. I did have a conscious moment when I was aware that what I was doing was not normal. I was full of shame and had that thought of, “What have you become?” And then I slipped back into the blackout and kept drinking.

It didn’t have an impact that was substantial enough to stop me from the path that I was on, but later when I did get sober it was one of those moments that I could look back on and realize the problem. That was me drinking to satisfy a craving. I wasn’t drinking for the party, which was one of the stories that I always like to tell—the story that I was just a party girl, just drinking for the fun of it. That experience went well beyond my “party girl” ideal. Everyone else in that room had passed out; I was the only one that was awake and looking for more.

The other story that I used to tell is that I loved the taste of alcohol. Let’s be clear– there’s no way that what I was drinking out of the cup tasted good. Later, it became an important story for me to hold on to. It helped me to understand that I had that physical allergy and once that is established there’s no way to un-know it.

I have a lot of other stories but that was the big one where I was really able to dispel those lies and see the truth. I eventually had an intervention done on me by my family and friends and I was sent to a 28-day treatment center. I think I went back and forth from that 28-day program to a long-term treatment center in Arizona for the next nine months. But I wasn’t convinced; I definitely could see the unmanageability but I wasn’t convinced of my powerlessness. I still thought that I was going to be able to find a way to control it or find some formula or some new drug that I could take that would allow me to still function. I ended up hitting this bottom in sobriety when I was really brought to a place where life showed me that I couldn’t live with it and I couldn’t live without it. I hit that point of surrender in sobriety where I was convinced of my powerlessness.

I have been sober since July 7, 1992. My life is very different today. My family is in my life. They trust me. That’s where the real beauty of it is.

My biggest dream was to have a VW bus and follow the Grateful Dead around the country and just be checked out. I didn’t want to feel anything and I would do whatever it took to not feel anything. I’m not afraid of feelings today. I know walking through the hard stuff allows me to then feel the beautiful gifts that I have.

I have two gorgeous kids. I have been married to the same man for 22 years. I have the best friends on earth. The 12-step fellowship has provided a family that has followed me everywhere I go. I had the opportunity to live in Istanbul, Turkey as a sober member of my group. I became part of that 12-step community there and also in Northern Ireland. I’ve been able to travel all over the world and have this fellowship that supported me and loved me. Even if you don’t know anybody in the room, you just walk in and you have the support of people that get you and want good things for you.

I think the biggest gift that I have is that I’m of service; I can make a real difference in other people’s lives. I was just a taker until I got sober. Everything was about what I was going to get out of it and at the end of every day that was what constituted a good day. It was just about if I got what I wanted.

My advice is to trust God, clean house, and help others. God really doesn’t make impossible terms with those who earnestly seek. I came in to recovery as an angry agnostic– I had all of my own terms. I was so afraid that everything would be lame and stupid and boring. I do think that when we get into enough pain that eventually strips away from our hearts and minds, that we become willing to do whatever it takes.

Even if God was the lamest thing ever, it would be better than what I was feeling. I’ve never seen anybody work the 12 steps over and over again and not end up with a beautiful life. I mean, it is still life. There are still messes, there’s still pain, there are still sad things that happen, but at the end of the day we have this fellowship that supports us and walks through it with us. It’s all about that connection. It’s about hope and love.

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