Recovery Dharma in Arizona: My own Story

In 2017, my wife and I were going through a rough patch. Really rough. We were both drinking heavily, daily, and I was also using weed on a regular basis to “stay creative.” Both of my step-sons were daily pot smokers, and they would come over to our house to “partake” because it was at least a safe place where they wouldn’t be getting into trouble. A part of me believed that if I smoked with them, it would make us closer. It was at least something we had in common, and I do have some fond memories of smoking on the patio with my boys.

I felt the same way about my wife and drinking alcohol. I didn’t really like how it made me feel, and most times I drank, I didn’t really even enjoy the taste too much, especially if I over-consumed. But she was drinking, so I was too. I became pretty good at it, with frequent practice. It was a very habitual behavior for her, and as our relationship matured, I realized that “self-medicating” with wine was one of her main coping mechanisms – coping with the stress of raising 3 kids from age 16, one of whom had a disability, never having an adulthood to herself, the stress anxiety of her family relationships, the stress created by the drama of trying to pay bills on a single salary, and myriad other things on a weekly basis.

I my mind, I was “using” substances, but I didn’t really feel like I was “abusing” them, even if it led to some extremely difficult situations. I didn’t really consider myself as an alcoholic or drug addict – what I was really addicted to was technology, work, social media, porn, scrolling on my phone and buying the next gadget or software for making electronic music.

In a nutshell, I wasn’t paying that much attention to my wife, and even when I was “present” I wasn’t really “listening.” Sure, I was providing for our material needs and wants – but I wasn’t fully present in the way that I should have been. And I wasn’t mindful, most of the time.

That all changed one night when I made the mistake of doing something physical of a sexual nature to my wife – while she slept. She instantly woke up very startled, and yelled, “What the F are you doing?!” – I lied and said “Nothing!”

She sprang out of bed, ran into the bathroom, slammed the door, and it jolted me out of my intoxication in a way I’ll never forget. That moment triggered a lot of her past relationship traumas, like opening up a box of snakes – and now they were slithering all over the floor and escaping under the bed, into the closet, down the hall, and throughout our home. These would all need to be dealt with, one by one, all over again, and put safely back in the box, but it would take several years to move through it.

At the time I didn’t even realize what trauma was, and in fact, we had several fights where she would say things to me like, “Oh, well how would you know – your life is perfect,” or “I’m glad you had another f***king amazing day,” in a tone that was very far from glad.

Our communication came to a stand-still, and it wasn’t very good to begin with. During that time, there would be days where it felt more like I only had a roommate. I chose to walk on eggshells to avoid a conversation I didn’t want to have in the moment, which was most moments, since I work from home and usually in the middle of some important project.

She would go for several days at a time where she could barely get out of bed. The pressure of living with someone and being married to someone who violated her trust like I did on that night almost broke her – and our marriage.

But we could always manage to “sit together” on the patio and drink. It was one of the few things that we did as a couple for a few years. The trauma that I caused in that moment of stupidity is something I feel so much shame, anger and regret for doing. I know I can never go back in time and undo the damage I caused. I have to just accept it. And so does she. And this takes time.

I was hurting inside with the guilt and self-loathing that comes from doing something you deeply regret to your loved ones, and began trying to find an outlet for me feelings and emotions. That’s when I found Recovery Dharma.

At the time, our group on the west side of Mesa was often up to 30 people. Some came for overeating or undereating. Some came for gambling. Some came for drugs, alcohol and porn. I’m overweight and could connect with the food habits. I dabble in crypto and I’ve been an entrepreneur, so I could connect with the gamblers. I’ve turned to porn countless times, whenever my partner “has a headache.” I could definitely resonate with the other workaholics and technology and social media users.

In that first year of attending those meetings, I shared a lot. Maybe I over-shared. But the sangha (group of wise friends I made through this program) accepted me, and treated me as an equal.

One Sunday, about a year after I started attending my weekly “RD Meeting” of Recovery Dharma, “Refuge in the Desert,” the leader, J.K., handed me the binder and said, “Okay, this is your meeting now.”

When I asked, “What do you mean, my meeting?” he explained that he was moving overseas – and leaving this week. I was a bit shocked, and a bit nervous, but I’ve been the default leader of that same Sunday morning in-person meeting ever since.

And I’m still on the path, learning about myself through meditation, through reading, and through sharing – my own shares and what others share. I’ve set the intention to stay on the path; to be as mindful in every moment as possible; to be a better, more caring and attentive husband; and to focus on my breathing whenever situations get tense around the house instead of fleeing or fighting. And I slowly tapered off and eventually stopped drinking and smoking pot. As of this writing I’ve been sober for about 3 months.

Many people – perhaps 250 or more – have come to our group. Some only come once. Some come a few times. Some come every now and then. Some become regulars. I miss everyone who no longer comes, and wonder what they’re up to and how they’re doing, and whether they know how much I appreciate them for having the courage to even attend one time.

The main thing I can tell you about Recovery Dharma is – learning the four precepts and the 8-fold path have given me a super simple framework for being the best version of myself. Setting the intention to spend one hour per week, at a minimum, and to not give up, and to keep going, and be there rain or shine, has, without a doubt, made me a better person. The person I aspire to be.

I’m on the path.

And if you live near Mesa, AZ, and you’re struggling with any kind of addition, you can come on Sunday morning and tell your story. I will be there.