CNF: Basic Recovery
by Amanda Vineyard
Everyone in this room seems angry. They get up and pace or make coffee with an absurd amount of sugar. The lights are dim, and every couple minutes someone new from the “audience” adjusts the temperature. The speakers are shaking, nervous, and unsure. We all have the same problem. Addiction. But I feel so out of place. Some days it’s hard for me to reconcile who I was with who I am today, in this room.
I’ve always wanted to be FBI. I thought the military would be a great avenue. My plans were to retire and apply to the FBI academy. In my head, I knew exactly where I was going in life. I was sworn into the United States Air Force shortly after high school.
It’s one thing to mentally run through a picture-perfect plan over and over. It’s another to live the life. I was nervous about basic training. Dad was Army, and when I was in trouble growing up, I had my own personal drill sergeant. The only thing missing was a hat with the brim that presses against the forehead in times of correction. The yelling didn’t scare me. I think what scared me the most was the thought of failing.
I asked my brother to help prepare me. We worked out together. He’d stop what he was doing and get in my face. He yelled that I was doing everything wrong. I’d get discouraged and slow down. One night he said, “it’s their job to break you down as a civilian and build you up as a solider. Don’t take it personally. Push harder. Don’t let them see you get discouraged.” Those words followed me beyond basic training.
Basic training came and went. During my time there, I pushed as hard as I could. I was chosen to become an element leader. Four out of sixty girls are chosen for this position. On graduation day, I marched in the front row, with the other chosen three. Perfect uniforms. Crisp movements. When we saluted the flag, I felt this overwhelming sense of pride. I puffed my chest out. We made it. We were Airman.
So, how did I get in this room? How did I fall into addiction? Some of the people in this room feel negative. They feel like they have lost hope altogether. There are people here that are cautiously optimistic. I am not cautiously optimistic. I haven’t lost hope. I absolutely refuse to let this be the death of me. I may not be military anymore, but I’m a solider.
Everyone tells me what to do. I’m under court orders and being monitored by a probation officer. My sponsor has guidelines to follow. My husband’s stipulations to see the kids are daunting. I am exhausted by all the rules. This mission feels impossible. Overwhelmed, I can see why people relapse. I understand the caution in the optimism.
My brother’s words ring in my ears, “it’s their job to break you down as a civilian and build you up as a solider”. Except, my heart puts it into context. In my brother’s voice, I hear the words, “the people giving you these guidelines and rules, it’s their job to break you down as an addict, and build you up as the woman I know you are…” Every year, like my graduation, I puff out my chest and hold my head high. Almost six years later and there is nothing basic about this recovery.
Today, Amanda is a wife, mother, and student at Missouri State University. Many years ago, she graduated high school with honors and enlisted into the United States Air Force. After she was discharged she lost her way in a world of intravenous drugs. The drug world cost her everything, except her life. August 9, 2014 was the last day she used. Since that day, Amanda has found peace in writing about her experiences. It gives purpose to an otherwise horrific time. She longs to raise awareness and spread hope to addicts and their families. We can recover!
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What surprising, fascinating stuff can you tell us about the origin, drafting, and/or final version of “Basic Recovery”? I often have people ask me, “How did you get clean?”, which is a very difficult question to answer. The truth is, there were many contributing factors. “Basic Recovery” simply covers one of those factors. I drew inspiration and motivation from everything available to me, including my memories. I believe that the way we think makes a huge impact on the outcome of any situation. Changing the way I thought about addiction, recovery, and the people that I once thought were against me, was my first and most important step.
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