Recovery52 – Week 43 – Pick Up The Shovel

“If one is estranged from oneself, then one is estranged from others too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others.”

— Anne Morrow Lindbergh

In preparing to write this week’s post—and following last week’s intention to dig deeper into the roots of my substance abuse and long-standing patterns—I reread every post I’ve written so far. I’m proud of the progress I’ve made: the sobriety I’ve held, the growth I’ve earned, and the consistency of this photography project.

But rereading also made something unmistakably clear: I’ve been staying safe.

I’ve written about meaningful topics, but often in ways that circle the edges rather than dive into the center. Each week I’ve hinted that deeper work is needed, but I’ve also kept my distance from the very places that need exploring. I’ve mentioned fear, trust issues, and old wounds many times, but I haven’t truly confronted them. It’s as if I’ve been writing from the doorway—looking inward without stepping inside.

A fear of facing fear itself. Phobophobia, maybe.

I recently finished a recovery book that described four major risk factors for addiction: Genetic, Developmental, Environmental, and Creative Nature. I align with all four. While I’ve resisted the idea that I need to relive my past to move forward, I also recognize that early experiences shaped my beliefs, reactions, and emotional defenses. These long-standing patterns—fear, shame, distrust, self-protection—still influence my life today. I’m tired of their grip. I want better for myself and for the people close to me.

So how do I move forward?

I’m choosing to explore these patterns through the lens of Attachment Theory. Attachment Theory examines how early bonds with caregivers shape our emotional and relational patterns throughout life. Without claiming expertise, the model resonates with what I experienced growing up. Given my history, it’s not surprising that I lean toward a Fearful-Avoidant attachment style—wanting closeness, yet fearing it; desiring connection, yet withdrawing emotionally when things feel uncertain.

Afraid to feel.

Afraid to trust.

Afraid to love.

That’s not the life I want anymore. I’m not looking to blame people who were hurting in their own ways, nor to stay anchored in victimhood. I have autonomy now. I have agency. And I have people who care about me, if I choose to allow that care in.

As a next step, I plan to use the SMART Recovery ABC problem-solving framework to address specific fears and traumas—a tool that has already helped me work through challenges in Posts 38, 39, and 40. A structured approach may help me unpack the beliefs and emotional reactions that still have power over me.

This week isn’t about tackling one specific fear. It’s about laying the groundwork for the deeper work ahead. These are some of the questions I’m ready to explore:

• Why do I lie, even the small “white” ones? What fear sits underneath the avoidance of full honesty?

• Why does my mind default to “Why I can’t” instead of “Why can’t I?” when opportunities arise?

• I’m intensely triggered by violent crime and cruelty. I believe some people choose evil and deserve punishment. Is it wrong to want retributive justice?

• When I’m confronted with anger or threat, I freeze or flee. Why? And how do I change this?

These questions form the shovel I intend to pick up. It’s time to dig.

Recovery52 – Week 42 – My Why

Carefree youth

“Fear is the memory of pain. Addiction is the memory of pleasure. Freedom is beyond both.”

— Deepak Chopra

Here I am at Week 42 of this photography project documenting my recovery from alcohol addiction. Forty-two weeks of steady work—self-analysis, self-awareness, and daily practice of healthier skills and habits. I have changed the way I react to external triggers and how I respond to my internal thoughts and feelings. I’m proud that I have not turned to the false comfort of alcohol this year. And still, I know there is more work to do.

I’ve become more open and honest with family, friends, a trusted therapist, and myself. Yet I also recognize how often I remain guarded—defaulting to self-protection, avoiding confrontation, suppressing difficult feelings, and distracting myself instead of allowing vulnerability. These patterns limit my growth. They can hold me back from forming deeper relationships. And sometimes, unintentionally, they can even cause harm.

I’m reading a book on recovery right now, and a chapter on risk factors underlying addictive behavior struck me with unexpected clarity. Below are those factors and how they relate to my own life:

Genetic: There were drinkers on both sides of my family, along with diagnosed mental health issues.

Developmental: My mother’s multiple marriages—and the trauma brought on by abusive husbands and stepfathers—left deep marks on my early childhood. My ACE (Adverse Childhood Experiences) score is high.

Environmental: Without strong role models, and with the compounding effects of trauma and genetics, I grew up lacking confidence and the skills to stand up for myself. These patterns carried into adulthood.

Creative Nature: A sensitive nature, low self-confidence, and memories of criticism around creative activities led me to hide or abandon my artistic interests. Today, though, my photography is something I’m genuinely proud of. It proves that my creative voice never disappeared—it just needed space and safety to emerge.

These risk factors will be the focus of upcoming posts. Recently, I’ve used SMART Recovery’s ABC framework to navigate challenges. Moving forward, I want to blend that with other cognitive behavioral tools to better understand how these long-standing factors shape my thoughts, behaviors, and reactions. Greater clarity may help me see what truly needs to change.

I can’t change my past. But I can examine how I respond to triggers today. I can look at which risk factors are influencing me, and acknowledge the impact of old wounds without clinging to them. This isn’t about claiming victimhood or placing blame. It’s about forgiving myself for developing coping strategies that once helped me survive—and recognizing that the beliefs formed in childhood no longer serve me.

“I have the power of choice, and I can choose better.”

Recovery52 – Week 41 – Not This Time

“Learn from the past, prepare for the future, live in the present.”

— Thomas S. Monson

Last week, I wrote about a major shift in my recovery journey—my therapist moving on and the sudden need to continue forward without that familiar pillar of support. At the time, I felt grounded and confident in the strength I’ve built.

This week, though, something quieter surfaced. A small current of apprehension rose up when I was reminded of the upcoming time change—the clocks rolling back, mornings growing colder, evenings stretching darker. The feeling was subtle but persistent. Instead of brushing it aside, I chose to explore it.

Memories returned—not vague impressions, but sharp recollections of where I was last year at this time. In early November 2022, I had a major relapse and binge episode. More memories followed: smaller slips throughout that fall and winter, ending in a final binge as the year turned toward 2023. Each one was painful. Each one hurt me. Each one affected people I cared about. I would get up again, shaky but determined, only to slide back down when the memory of pain faded and old thoughts returned: “I can handle it this time.” Or worse, I stopped thinking altogether and tried to outrun the darkness and overwhelm.

A detailed retelling of one of those relapse episodes might be useful in a future post—for myself and for anyone struggling with alcohol. But for now, I want to return to the quote that opens this week, and to the progress I see in how I approach my thoughts and feelings today.

I felt apprehension about the future—and I confronted it.

I remembered the mistakes I refuse to repeat.

I recognized the strength I’ve earned through honesty, practice, and sustained effort.

I stayed in the present. I didn’t get lost in rumination. And that grounded me.

This clarity doesn’t mean I’m free from worry. I still feel concern about past decisions, finances, relationships, uncertainty about the future, and moments of wavering confidence in my recovery. These areas deserve attention. At the same time, I’m learning to give myself space for activities that bring calm during lonely or challenging stretches—photography, reading for pleasure, jigsaw puzzles, and time in nature. Moments of stillness help me stay centered.

The coming season—with its cold, wet, and dark—will not dim the light of my recovery.

Recovery52 – Week 40 – Transitions

From an early morning contemplative walk at the Japanese Gardens in Portland, OR.

“A man's pride can be his downfall, and he needs to learn when to turn to others for support and guidance.”

— Bear Grylls

This week brought unexpected change in my recovery support network. After more than ten months of consistent, steady work with a therapist who helped me rebuild my life, I received an email letting me know he would be leaving the practice. We would have only one more session together. I sat in my car for a long time after reading the message, letting the weight of it settle.

A few thoughts rose quickly:

• I have not been successful long-term in past recoveries when I convinced myself I could do this alone.

• I have ended counseling relationships too early before—and relapsed.

• I did feel some relief around my tight budget, but I also understood that the cost of relapse is always far greater.

This situation deserved to be examined using the SMART ABC tool.

Activating Event: After ten months of sobriety and growth, much of it supported by the guidance of a skilled therapist, I received the news that he would be moving on, leaving us with one final session together.

Belief: My first thoughts were conflicting. I felt fear because past attempts without strong therapeutic support have not ended well. I also felt relieved at the financial break, while knowing that avoiding relapse matters far more than saving money.

Consequence: I immediately recalled where past recoveries faltered—when I lacked the proper tools and support. But I also felt proud of my therapist and grateful that he offered referrals. I chose not to let anxiety spin out. I let the news settle in the background, knowing it would surface again in writing.

Dispute: Today, I have intrinsic motivation, momentum, and a solid foundation. I trust myself more than I ever have. I have tools, healthy routines, and genuine pride in my creative work. I live more consciously, more intentionally. I am stronger and wiser this time.

Effective New Belief: I will continue forward with the skills, insight, and clarity I’ve gained. I will seek new therapeutic support if I even sense the need. My recovery is worth the cost, the energy, and the adjustment. I have agency in my choices. I will not relapse.

I am deeply grateful for the support my counselor provided over the past year. His guidance helped me build the stability I now stand on. I will continue my recovery with the same honesty, curiosity, and commitment that have carried me this far.

Recovery52 – Week 39 – Trash Talking

“To leave the world better than you found it, sometimes you have to pick up other people’s trash.”

— Bill Nye

Last week, I wrote about the need to go deeper in my recovery. I’m confident and comfortable in my sobriety and in the healthy habits that support it. But I also know that I continue to react to events with old thought patterns—beliefs and emotional imprints formed long ago. These often lead to unhelpful or unhealthy reactions, what can fairly be called maladaptive behaviors.

This week, I’m using the SMART Recovery ABC tool, based in cognitive behavioral therapy, to examine and adjust my thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. It helps uncover the beliefs behind emotional reactions and guides healthier responses. This ABC activity is very useful as a post-mortem to examine past events, learn from them, and be prepared for future events.

Here is this week’s ABC example:

Activating Event: A few months ago, during a group hike near Portland, we came across a pile of garbage dumped along a rural road at the trailhead—the scene captured in the above photograph. I felt immediate anger, and that anger spoiled my walk that morning.

Belief: I despise purposeful littering and illegal dumping. I want those responsible to be held accountable—or at least receive a strong dose of karma.

Consequence: The anger I felt lingered. In the past, this kind of unresolved upset would add to a mental pile of frustrations that could eventually push me toward numbing behaviors. Not this time.

Dispute: Malicious behavior by a small number of people is rare. Harboring general anger at specific instances won’t solve the problem, nor will it help my emotional health.

Effective New Belief: I cannot control others. But I can control how I react. Rather than let anger poison my day, I can acknowledge it, accept it, diffuse it—and then pick up the trash, when possible, making the place better than I found it.

I can’t control others or the world, but I can control myself and my reactions. I can choose to make a positive difference.

Recovery52 – Week 38 – Boarded Up

From a recent activist’s party in Portland, OR.

“Character isn't inherited. One builds it daily by the way one thinks and acts, thought by thought, action by action. If one lets fear or hate or anger take possession of the mind, they become self-forged chains.”

— Helen Gahagan Douglas

Last week, I wrote about the need to go deeper in my recovery. I’m confident in my sobriety and in the healthy habits that support it, but I also know that I still react to life with old beliefs and emotional patterns formed long ago. Those patterns often lead to unhealthy, unhelpful reactions—maladaptive behaviors that no longer serve me. The photo I chose this week, with its boarded-up windows, is a metaphor for how I sometimes shut out the world.

Many of my recent posts have been soft and safe, avoiding deeper honesty. I often hold back thoughts if I worry someone may take offense or feel hurt. In conversations with my therapist and trusted friends, I’ve realized that my recovery will stall if I don’t work directly with my emotional “stuff.” This project began as a tool for my own healing, and I reminded myself that even if no one else ever read these posts, they would still matter. They still help me. And if they help others, that’s a bonus.

Now it’s time to continue my healing work. For that, I’m leaning into a tool I learned through SMART Recovery—an exercise based in cognitive behavioral therapy called the ABC model. It helps uncover the thoughts and beliefs behind emotional reactions and guides healthier responses.

Here is an example from today:

Activating Event: While walking in nature this morning, I visited a well-known arboretum and forestry center. I saw multiple windows shattered and boarded with plywood—serious, recent vandalism. Transit workers told me it was caused by climate activists protesting forest policy. I felt immediate anger.

Belief: I despise vandalism and destruction. My instinct is toward retributive justice—I want those responsible to face consequences.

Consequence: I recognized quickly that this anger would not push me toward drinking, as it once might have. But I still carried the anger with me for much of the day.

Dispute: This is where I’m meant to question whether my belief is true or helpful. I know it needs refinement, but I’m not ready to abandon it.

Effective New Belief: Much vandalism is out of my control. I can acknowledge my anger, accept it, and then release it through mindful breathing and grounding techniques rather than letting it poison the day.

This was just one example, but I plan to continue using the ABC model to work through deeper triggers, old wounds, and long-standing beliefs. Pushing these feelings down out of fear of upsetting others is dishonest—to them and to myself. It’s time to break the chains.

Recovery52 – Week 37 – Moving Forward

“No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.”

— Buddha

I’m a couple of days late with this week’s post, missing my self-imposed Thursday deadline. And I’m completely at peace with that. I chose instead to enjoy a road trip through central Washington, traveling part of the Cascade Loop with a good friend. We drove long miles on rural roads, photographed landscapes, and embraced a sense of adventure. A missed deadline was a small price for time well spent.

Recently, both my own reflections and a friend’s observation made me aware that my posts have been leaning toward the “safe” end of the emotional spectrum. Topics like mindfulness practice, healthy routines, stable sobriety, and passion for photography are all true—and all important. But they aren’t the whole story.

There are deeper and darker chapters in my past that I avoid writing about—topics tied to shame, guilt, resentment, or anger. Experiences painful enough that I’ve hesitated to confront them, let alone share them. Some of these memories could upset others or even risk judgment or rejection. And although I’m not ready to detail those experiences publicly, I recognize they are threads woven through my thoughts, emotions, and behaviors—even now.

But ignoring it hasn’t freed me from its influence on my life.

I’m beginning to see that part of moving forward means turning toward those moments with honesty and curiosity. I plan to focus upcoming journaling on the critical events that led me toward escape, numbing, and self-limiting beliefs. Through self-reflection, awareness, and conversations with my therapist and trusted loved ones, I hope to find whatever resolution or understanding is needed.

This work will require vulnerability, courage, and emotional openness. I may walk it with the support of others—but ultimately the path is mine to travel.

Recovery52 – Week 36 – Recipe for Recovery

“A joyful life is an individual creation that cannot be copied from a recipe.”

— Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

This has been a good week, with no internal challenges to my sobriety. I’ve been consistent with healthy routines—daily planning and journaling, meditation, and regular workouts at the gym for both mental and physical well-being. I’ve enjoyed beginning each morning with coffee and time spent creatively editing photographs.

Today, I improvised a chicken–vegetable–rice soup, enjoying the quiet of the kitchen and the anticipation of a warm, comforting meal.

I’ve listened to audio streams about recovery, addiction, and science, and even found enjoyment in YouTube videos about the history of my favorite video game franchises. I have a couple of books in progress that help me unwind before sleep. Yes, I allow myself moments of escape—intentional, healthy escape.

Of course, not everything is easy. Loved ones are facing illness and loss. I try to offer support and encouragement where I can. I continue to feel concern about finances and the future, but I’m addressing these areas steadily. I know that if I weren’t sober, I couldn’t be of service to myself or to anyone else.

The quote above resonates deeply with me: my life is mine to create, not to force into a prefabricated mold. Over the years, I’ve explored other recovery paths—AA, SMART Recovery, Dharma Recovery—and studied psychology and addiction to understand my own patterns. But no single program provided the final “one-size-fits-all” answer. Instead, each offered something useful.

What works for me now is a combination of ideas, tools, and insight—supported by the most essential ingredient: my intrinsic motivation to live a meaningful and joyful life. This, more than anything else, fuels my recovery.

Recovery52 – Week 35 – Passion Over Addiction

“Passion creates, addiction consumes.”

— Gabor Maté, In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts

This has been a good week for me, relatively speaking. At thirty-five weeks alcohol-free, having moved beyond routine urges and practicing healthier habits in both thought and behavior, I feel my sobriety is solid. But I also know—through hard experience—that sobriety is never guaranteed.

I’ve abstained before. I can recall three serious attempts at sobriety after drinking became a problem in my life, only to return to the false comfort of numbness or altered awareness. Those attempts were what I now think of as “white-knuckle recovery”—efforts held together by fear, willpower, and desperation, but without the deeper internal work needed to sustain change.

The difference this time is that I have changed. I’ve worked to understand myself through self-awareness, with support from loved ones and a good therapist. I’ve recognized how my old ways of thinking kept me on a path that was slowly destroying me. I’ve practiced mindfulness, learned to accept reality instead of hiding from it, and begun choosing wise responses instead of blind reactions.

Most importantly, I’m excited about sobriety this time—truly excited. And I feel passionate about creating—creating a better version of myself, creating more meaningful relationships, creating art with my photography, and creating my future. Creativity restores meaning to my life in ways alcohol never could.

Recovery52 – Week 34 – Gratitude for Today

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.”

— John F. Kennedy

Last week, I wrote that I must guard against the two thieves of my present moment: past regrets and future worries. Today became a living reminder of that truth.

Today, I walked a bridge—literally and metaphorically—moving from one shore to another, from yesterday into tomorrow, grounded in the present. Today.

Today, I climbed a mountain. Today, I sat beside a waterfall. Today, I moved through nature with awareness. Today, I traveled familiar roads and saw familiar places through fresh eyes. Today.

Today, I felt gratitude. Gratitude for nature’s beauty. Gratitude for my capacity to move, breathe, notice, and explore. Gratitude for the chance to strengthen body, mind, and spirit. Today.

Today, I felt grateful for my sobriety—grateful for my own determination, and grateful for every person in my circle who supports me. Today.

Today, I am sober. Today.

(For context: I hiked Saddle Mountain in Clatsop County, Oregon, and visited Fishhawk Falls. Much of the time on the trail was mindful and grounding. The drive was peaceful, with calming music. I ended the day with pizza—a small celebration of being fully alive and fully present.)

Recovery52 – Week 33 – Two Thieves

Past & Future

“Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves — regret for the past and fear of the future.”

— Fulton Oursler

With more than eight months in sobriety and thirty-three weeks into this photography project, I continue to find peace and clarity in daily life—peace and clarity I did not have when I was drinking, especially during periods of heavy use. After stumbling out of my last hard binge, carrying the painful memories of prior lapses, the knowledge of how I hurt others, and the growing realization that my life had lost meaning, I resolved to end that way of living.

With my own intention, and with the support of family, friends, and the wealth of resources available for people dealing with alcohol misuse, I’ve developed habits and routines that support ongoing growth. Caring for my body and mind, and strengthening my self-awareness, have become pillars of my recovery. When old thought patterns begin to surface, I can pause, recognize what’s happening, and choose how to respond to any urges that arise.

A major theme in my drinking history was anxiety—being caught between remorse and regret over the past and worry about the future. That split focus often led me toward avoidance and unhealthy coping. Today, my practice of mindfulness helps me catch myself when I drift into those old patterns. I can recognize when my mind begins to wander into what was or what might be, pulling me away from the present moment.

It’s useful, even necessary, to look backward for learning and to look forward for planning. But being consumed with regrets about a past that cannot be changed, or fears about a future that may never unfold, is both exhausting and damaging.

In service to myself and my sobriety, I must continue guarding against these two thieves of the present: past and future.

Recovery52 – Week 32 – Governing the Kingdom

“A little kingdom I possess, where thoughts and feelings dwell; And very hard the task I find of governing it well.”

— Louisa May Alcott

As I enter another week of recovery, I’m reminded how much of this journey is about managing my inner world—my thoughts, feelings, and reactions. This week brought several events that stirred strong emotions and challenged my sense of balance.

Here are the stressors that shaped my week:

⦁ I came down with shingles the same weekend I received the shingles vaccine.

• My son’s wedding celebration was planned, and I was excited to be part of it.

• Loved ones are dealing with serious personal health issues, and I had committed to being available for caregiving, but was unable to.

• I was recently diagnosed as pre-diabetic, and the tinnitus I’ve been dealing with will not be medically evaluated until January.

I realize my stack of issues is small compared to the hardships others face—friends, family, and many people I read about in recovery communities. In truth, my life right now is pretty damn good. I’m grateful for where I am, what I have, and the growth I’m experiencing.

Still, the emotional mix this week felt worth sharing. Shingles brought pain and sleep disruption. The virus’s contagiousness forced me to consider risks and make difficult choices—I ended up missing my son’s wedding ceremony to protect others. I also stepped back from caregiving commitments. Missing workouts and hikes left me feeling physically disconnected from the routines that help keep me centered.

During this self-imposed isolation, I became more aware of the tinnitus, reflected on my diet, evaluated my financial picture, and thought more deeply about long-term goals and plans. My feelings shifted over the week: fear, sadness, regret, uncertainty, and even a shade of depression I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I also noticed subtle moments of relapse risk—those flickers of dangerous thinking. When I felt low, I imagined going out alone into nature, but thought it best not to drive by any beckoning trigger locations. I recognized the familiar self-doubt and remembered past relapses sparked by a single “eff it” moment. I even imagined the risk at the wedding celebration, knowing how easy it would have been to chase positive emotions with “just a glass or two.”

Those memories are vivid and still guide me now. They remind me that I cannot safely handle “just one.”

This week, I watched my thoughts and feelings with awareness. I let them rise and pass without surrendering to them. Old defense mechanisms—denial, numbing, avoidance—had no place here. I stayed present, mindful, and sober.