Hi, my name is Michelle and I have no idea what's about to happen

It is strongly suggested to all single folks new to recovery to avoid dating for the first year.  This is a suggestion, rather than an order or demand. It has to be that way because when dealing with a bunch of alcoholics and addicts, if you tell us what to do, we will do the exact opposite.  Luckily, I followed this suggestion and did not date in the first year. Nope, I did not go on one date in the first year of my sobriety.  I didn’t need to.

I fell in love at rehab.

Ah, rehab, such a magical time in a women’s life. Birds singing, sun shining, therapists diagnosing, doctors prescribing and me… slowly (but not at all quietly) losing my mind. Rehab, the perfect place to fall in love and take my new Higher Power out for a spin. I mean, all the signs were there that it was meant to be. What were the chances another codependent, drug addicted, self-serving mess of a human being would cross my path, IN REHAB? I mean there were all the men that fit that description I had met when I was still using coke and vodka to heal my wounds, but this one was a doctor for God’s sake! Wouldn’t my mom be proud of me this time? It was fate to be sure.  No way was there anyone else as screwed up as I was in the world that had an ass like his. Nope, this was my new Higher Power doing for me what I could not do for myself. I don’t need to be alone and get to know myself after all. I have beaten the system!!!!!  What a great story we would have for our grandkids. Love was in the air……

Now flash forward 4 months to me at his house, uhaul out front with everything I own in the world inside of it, him at another women’s house he has decided to start dating and me swallowing a handful of pills trying to take my own life when it all did not go the way I wanted it to go. What was it they told me about again? What did they SUGGEST not to do? Oh, NOW I REMEMBER. FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK

I have not forgotten that moment of realization. I can still recall how the carpet felt on my bare knees when I fell to the floor and starting begging for relief from the pain that was hitting me from all sides. A few moments after I took the pills I was in the bathroom making myself sick. Death was not the answer and for the first time neither was a drink or drug. So what was, prayer? You’ve got to be kidding me. Fucking prayer? Wasn’t it my Higher Power that got me into this mess? I mean, who put “Doctor Ass for Days” in my path anyway? Wasn’t it my HP’s fault I had packed up and moved three states away for a man I had known 5 months and met in rehab?  It could not have been my fault. All the signs were there that it was meant to be. All I did was follow the signs (good kisser, good job, sober, seemed to like me and have I mentioned his ass). How in the hell was this happening to ME?

Time is a wonderful thing. With time I get the gift of perspective, with perspective I receive the gift of humility, with humility comes humor and so it goes. On Friday I am going to sit down with this man for the first time since all of this and make an amends for my part of what happened. I am doing this because it has been suggested I cannot stay sober without taking this step.  It has been proven to me that when I follow suggestions I find relief.

There has not been one day since the day I met “Doctor Ass for Days” that I have not thought of him in some way or another. On Friday I will be taking a big step in the right direction to change that. I have not missed him in quite some time and today I know things happened exactly as they were supposed to happen, but I still think of him daily, even if it’s just to remember I need to do an amends with him. My hope for myself is that if I can admit my part in what happened I can finally forgive him for his part.  After all, what are the chances that another codependent, drug addicted, self-serving mess of a human being would do anything to hurt anyone other than themselves intentionally? Pretty slim, right?

 It has gotta be my Higher Power trying to tell me something