Humbling commitment...

I spoke tonight at a nearby treatment center. Cornerstone is a pretty hardcore place. It is pretty much the last hope for many people. Most of the residents are African-American, right off the streets. Old, young, male, female--they are all there. It must be a culture shock to be suddenly transplanted in the middle of Dutchess county with no street noise or lights, or any other urban aspect to cling to while they sober up. In some ways it was very intimidating, but that's good for me. It helps keep me sober by sharing my story with these folks, and in the end we are all the same, just a bunch of ex-junkies and alcoholics in recovery working on our programs and trying to live with our new sanities.

I sometimes feel out of place in facilities like these. My story doesn't include abject poverty, multiple trips to jails and rehabs, narcotics, racial prejudice, and so forth. It does include trying to fit in and doing anything to do so, feeling empty and alone, arrogant and terrified, helpless and hopeless, and crying for help with an empty voice. These are things we all can share.

They thanked me for sharing...shook my hand. All I could say was 'thank you'.

I left feeling grateful, sober, sane and humble.

Johnnyboy