I went with a couple of friends to a recovery house in a rough neighborhood last night. I'm glad for the opportunity to be of service, to perhaps pass the message along to someone who doesn't see much to be hopeful about. That being said - I don't have a very dramatic "getting to recovery" kind of story, one that might resonate with a roomful of guys who are battling addictions to a variety of really nasty drugs, broke, prison stays hanging around their necks like giant anchors. Normally I'm oblivious to this - I talk to keep myself sober, not under any illusion that I'm saving anyone, aware that you never know when your words resonate with someone. Yesterday I didn't have it going on - I felt benumbed by the generalized anxiety tormenting me right now. As I got started I could see a lot of pretty dead-looking eyes staring back at me.
I kind of phoned it in. I didn't talk for very long, my words coming out, to my ear, canned and lifeless. Sigh. Happens to all of us from time to time.
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