UNICORN HERO

Dreams of relapse. I personally experience these dreams at least 4-5 times a month, and they're unlike any other other dreams I have because they're so vivid and lifelike that I wake from them completely convinced for a moment that I did, in fact, relapse. These dreams do NOT mean you want to relapse. In fact, they are often a sign of extreme fear of relapse. The possibility of it is so nightmarish that your mind can only translate it into a literal night terror.

Adding to the previous point, the fear of relapse is seriously underestimated. Some people assume recovered addicts are always thinking about relapsing in a tempting way, but lots of these thoughts stem from the absolute, paralyzing terror of the past repeating itself—not an alluring urge to return to it.

Paranoia that everyone is looking at you thinking "they know the truth about my past. They know I was an addict." These beliefs are, of course, unfounded.

Constantly categorizing everything as "before addiction," "during addiction," and "after addiction." Even something as simple as looking at photographs can elicit thoughts like, "I was so happy in this picture. I had no idea what was coming for me in six months."

Counting recovery days nonstop to the point that it can even become debilitating. Your sense of time is forever altered because you're always trying to "catch up" on all the time you "wasted."

If people know, they will constantly make snide or condescending remarks, no matter how far along in recovery you are. "An addict is always an addict." "Well, I can see you're doing better than you used to be!" "I would never do something like that."

People will relentlessly assume you are less intelligent and talk to you like you're a child, especially if you're in the early stages of recovery.

Everyone knows addicts lose friends and/or family, and sometimes for good reasons, but the sheer number of people who leave for no apparent reason when you're actively trying to get better is surprising. The stigma surrounding addiction is so intensely negative that most people don't even want to be tangentially associated with it.

Addicts and recovered addicts are fetishized in unexpected ways— sometimes because of the obviously sickly appearance, the assumption that they will do anything to feed their addiction, the false belief that they are "fun" or "exciting," or maybe even that they just seem pathetic. Random people in public will approach you and straight-up ask for the most disrespectful sexual acts you can imagine. (After my addiction became common knowledge, people I thought were good people suddenly started trying like mad to sleep with me and then ditched me entirely. That's probably one of the most painful learning moments I had).

Physical symptoms can appear months, even years, after recovery starts. I know some who have noticed their hands suddenly becoming shakier, their hair thinner, and unusual chest pains.

You often become so angry and guilty with your past self that it prevents you from seeing how extraordinary your progress really is.

You start to realize how far you've come and how liberated you are in the smallest of moments. One of the greatest accomplishments of mine was realizing one morning when I woke up that the last thought I'd had before going to bed had not been about my addiction. Throughout my entire years of addiction, it was literally always the first thing on my mind when I woke up, even if it was just getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. It was the last thing I thought of every single night before I fell asleep.

Speaking of sleep, a full night's sleep! Full meals! Not feeling sick 100% of the time. At first, it's almost like growing into a new body.

Your memory is not the same as before, whether you remember too much or there are big dark patches in your mind.

The appreciation. As difficult and painful as it is, a world in recovery is also so often a world of supreme beauty. You pay attention to life's details in ways you never could have imagined before. Things assume a gentle sincerity and sensitivity they never had previously.

Relapse does not always even happen. Some people quit and never look back. I decided to change my life in every way in February 2021 and spent all of that March relapsing. By April 1, I was ready and never went back once.

Addicts are always deemed selfish and narcissistic, even recovered addicts. Sometimes, ironically, recovery leads to increased empathy. It can take reaching a low point to understand another person's low point.

Recovery can be quiet. It's not always over-the-top constant relapses, breakdowns, etc. Sometimes it's just very private and silent attempts to make your life better.

Finally, a point I would like to emphasize is that addiction is a lonely, isolating experience, but often recovery is too. Yes, you can have rehab (if you're lucky to get into a good one), and, yes ,you might have a group or loved ones who help you (I hope). But every reason behind addiction and what you're actually addicted to is so individualized that no one will ever wholly share your experience. Finding a community can be challenging.

But, despite it all, recovery is a unique, beautiful, enlightening experience. If I were given the choice to go back and make it so I'd never had any of it happen, I would choose that option in a heartbeat. Still, I know in the depths of my soul, I'd be trading away some of the most raw, vulnerable, and profound lessons of my life in favor of blissful ignorance.