Rest in Peace

I just learned that a fellow from one of my regular groups took his own life last weekend.  He is a man who struggled with relapse, and I do mean struggled.  Sober a year here, some months there, another chunk of time in between, but always the relapses.

I didn't know him well at all - we exchanged pleasantries before and after the meeting, and had a couple of brief conversations, but I was always struck by his sincerity.  "This time it feels different." "This time it IS different."  Always the hope, and then too often, the word that he was back drinking or drugging.

I didn't know him well at all, but I've felt like crying all day.  Crying for his mother and his former wife; crying for his sponsors, and those who supported him through ups and downs; crying for all of us who watch the disease take another life.

For all of my somewhat esoteric discussions on the meaning of recovery, the bottom line is this: addiction kills.  Addiction kills via suicide and overdose and homicide and car accidents. Addiction kills via cirrhosis and throat cancer and endocarditis. Addiction kills people and marriages; hopes and dreams.  They say that where there is life, there is hope. Well, for this man, that hope is now gone.

Part of long term recovery, then, is the grieving that comes when one of our brothers or sisters dies related to their addiction or alcoholism.  Part of long term recovery is that on-going question of why one person is able to quit and another doesn't make it.

I am sad today.  I keep picturing this guy's smile, and his earnest declarations that "I'm doing good this time."  God bless you, B.  May you rest in peace.