These final weeks leading up to one of the most thrilling moments of my career have stirred a myriad of emotions for me. I’ve done precious little journal writing, but here is a peek inside my thoughts and feelings:
Sept. 20: Right now I’m asking myself how I feel about the day that is fast approaching–the day that has been little more than a square box on a calendar.
I think about the people I’ve known who are gone too soon because of addiction. We are so often marginalized as bad people who just couldn’t get it together.
Years ago–I wasn’t very far into my own recovery–I stood in front of my aunt’s casket while the family whispered in shamed tones. I gazed at her lifeless body, so small in an enormous satin pillow bed and I thought, how sad that I was probably the only person in the funeral home who truly understood the torture that my aunt experienced.
Much more recently, when my old high-school friend died under circumstances that his family can’t or won’t acknowledge, my heart broke thinking that the measure of his life is forever marked by the tragedy of addiction. Never mind that he was a gifted scientist, devoted father and a funny, funny friend.
Sept. 22: I remind myself about how we’ve changed norms around smoking, HIV/AIDS, breast cancer and other formerly shamed-filled health conditions. It sometimes helps when the feelings of “oh, what’s the use?” creep to the edges of my mind. Doubt is a persistent companion.
Sept. 27: I can barely believe that we are this close. I have this jittery, nervous feeling that probably comes no where close to what Greg and Jim are feeling right about now. Our eyes have been on the prize for so long that the real prize–ending the silence around addiction–seems nebulous.
How many people have suffered endlessly and needlessly because they felt no hope? That they had no options? That no one cared?
In desperation, how many people take their own lives because they can no longer endure the agony of addiction? My heart hopes beyond hope that we’re going to turn this massive ship around. My soul knows the truth of our mission and my whole being breathes gratitude for the part I’ve played.
Sept. 30: Tom Hill writes that a little more than 10 years ago this country was on the brink of passing constitutional amendments that would make same-sex marriage illegal. Today, the opposite is true as gays and lesbians are free to marry whomever they choose in any state.
Our goal is quite lofty as well. Legislative measures that provide insurance coverage on par with other medical conditions. An overhaul of the justice system so that offenders get treatment services mixed with their sentences.
An end to discriminatory workplace, housing and educational practices that keep people with addiction from obtaining entry into those systems.
News coverage that no longer glorifies the horrors of drug use. An elimination of practices in the film, television and entertainment industries that normalizes drug and alcohol use.
Celebrating recovery from addiction just as recovery from cancer or heart disease or AIDS/HIV is celebrated.
Can we do the same in 10 years? I do not know.
Oct. 4: I’ve written 10.04.15 so many times, typed it countless more, never feeling the immense significance of its meaning until today.
It’s here. I’m hopped up on three hours sleep, caffeine and pure, old-fashioned excitement.
Please, God, bring us people today. Keep the rain in the clouds if you would, and let those buses roll into DC.
Open the hearts and minds and wallets of all those present–and watching the livestream online–so they may heed the call to be a part of the journey to End the Silence.