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I just had a conversation that fills me with pain. Somebody in the depths of addiction and bereavement can see no way out and wants to end it all. It’s sometimes hard to not seem glib when you tell someone that recovery is possible; there is a path for them. Those words often need action, advice, signposting and support to follow. We need to acknowledge the pain and suffering too.
At our lowest points, recovery can seem so far fetched. Something this person said to me really struck a nerve. They looked up, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Hope is a dangerous thing.”
I understand what they mean.
And yet I have to believe in hope – because I believe in recovery. I’m privileged to see it everyday, in the people I’m fortunate enough to work with in Cardiff and on this site. Hope is real because recovery is real. It may not be easy to find and there may be many different ways of ‘finding it’ and some of which we don’t always understand.
What we’re all doing here is important – supporting recovery and being a part of the recovery movement.
I know that sometimes it’s all too easy to become numb to the stories we hear of addiction and despair – it can become, ‘another day in the office’. People can come to believe that recovery is a myth. But, we mustn’t let this happen – not to ourselves, other workers, or more importantly, those seeking, as well as their families and loved ones.
This feels all the more timely in light of some of the blogs and discussions we have had on the site recently. We need to share recovery and help people to find their path.
Thank you to you all for being there for me to share this with and for showing me that although hope can be dangerous, it is wonderful too!
Hard, hard, hard. I know that when I was about as low as I could go it seemed impossible that I could ever have a ‘normal’ life. I used to look at people in the street and long to be like them. Nothing special, just ordinary.
So many things that I do as a matter of course these days seemed insurmountable barriers just a short time ago. There are no magic wands but the more there is available in the darkest of times the better. And at the moment there is simply not enough. A good reason for us all to keep plugging away…
There is a saying amongst football fans that is something along the lines if “it’s the hope that kills you”. This is particularly prevalent amongst teams who are in a relegation battle, you’ve begun to accept that your team are doomed, then they win a game and maybe, just maybe….but hope is short lived.
There is a point to this analogy, well 2 actually
1: Unlike football fans, we have control over our own destiny. As long as we maintain hope and belief in ourselves then we have something to build on.
2: Hope is only dangerous if it is short-lived. There needs to be a continuum in hope and optimism in order for it to be worthwhile. Hope shouldn’t be followed by despair.
Matt
Thanks both. You know when you have those days that what we’re dealing with here smacks you in the face. I needed to get it out!
Pucker sarah in blog – sorry missed this one! (typical) Hope and miracles are the same for me, i was in a gorup yesterday (17) and could see the pain in the room.
Heared the pain and saw the pain with many, yet I stayed positive – and let them all know how i coped with my past and feelings, this i hope! gave then something to look forward and outwards to relieve a little pain.
Pucker blog again.
ello sug
yeah it’s absolute bobbins hey?
I recently blogged how much I still get affected to see folk in their own unique flavour of hell.
I must say it hurts a dam sight more to watch on helplessly as people, who have become friends go down once they’ve experienced some clean/sober time.
To watch them sheepishly come through our doors really nervous, not wanting to talk to anyone, not wanting to be on camera, in the recording studio on the mic’s, just wanting to be invisible and then 3 weeks later not being able to crowbar them off the stage!!
To see the spark ignite, the kindling that eventually consumes them and to witness a long forgotten creative passion engulf them… and everything is right with the world and so, so, grateful to be back in the land of the living and maybe, just maybe a future is ahead.. a life…… then… well then suddenly you don’t see that person anymore and instead of call’s, text messages… then nothing…. so that’s when we all, in our extended family live in hope for our missing member.
I have a tool box, full of tools that I use in my recovery daily. I keep them well oiled and in Bristol fashion…. but I also have a jewellery box. I have a few jewels that are very private to me and that I owe much of my recovery to….. one of my most infinitely precious gems that I value as much as life itself is….. hope. A simple word that is the foundation for the human race… hope… and it’s a treasure and we need to give it away freely as it was once given to us.
Hope is only a dangerous thing when it’s taken away never when it’s given.
See you Thursady in the Newport Hilton.
You do know it’s suited and booted right? Best frock Sarah!!
Love and hugs
mx
Lovely blog Sar. I continue to marvel about what we are seeing in this community, and the power of the writing. A long way from where we were those years ago when we first started working together! You’ve been a great partner in crime!?
I love that Marcellos – ‘Hope is only a dangerous thing when it’s taken away never when it’s given’. I’ll be remembering that one. You, Martin and many others are living proof of that hope. It’s special (and pucker!!). See you Tomorrow!
Thanks Dave – wow eh :-)
