Toby’s story

If, at age 13, you have asked me about sobriety, I would have laughed and said, "What for? Reality is for people who can't handle drugs." Truth was, I always felt out of place until I found drugs. My high school years were filled with good times, bad times, and many times I simply don't remember. I never said no and always used to the extreme. I hung out with a much older crowd, many of whom had dropped out of school or were simply years past school. Somehow, through my daily consumption of drugs and alcohol, I finished high school. Well, on my second try, I am one of only a small handful of folks that actually flunked out of the local vocational school. I was pretty proud of myself at the time.

 

Shortly after my 18th birthday, I became clinically psychotic with hallucinations and paranoid delusions from the use and abuse of drugs. I believed that little four-inch policemen were following me, that beautiful women were really men trying to embarrass me, and that nails were telescopes looking at me. All this may sound funny now, but this seemed very real at the time. I decided to move out of state and stop using drugs. So I moved to New Hampshire to start over, yet I was an addict with an obsessive-compulsive urge to use. Out of shame and misplaced pride, I hid my drug use. I was always planning to get clean next week, but next week never came.

 

Amazingly enough, through all of this insanity, I went to college in an attempt to convince myself that I really was not that bad. Honestly, I can't say which was more painful--hiding and controlling my drug use, or seeing little four-inch policemen. For twelve years of active addiction, I lived in shame and hopelessness. The prison of my mind and the pain of active addiction cannot be explained in words.

 

Eventually, my family, who I believed were all distrusting pains, trapped me in a family intervention. Basically, they forced me into my first detox. Today I thank God they did. I heard the message of recovery, or more accurately I heard someone who used like me but was staying clean. The next year I bounced in and out of detoxes, but I attended 12-step meetings regularly. While there, I often passed out, or found myself nodding off, but at least I was there. I did not know where else to go. A few detox counselors said that I needed a halfway house. Consequently, a family member brought me to the Granada House to meet some recovering addicts. I went along but decided that I would stay clean on my own. The Director was very gracious and simply gave me her phone number and wished me well. I always seemed to take half measures that never seemed to work out. Many months later, I landed in a state-run detox with 40 other guys wearing smiley slippers. But something changed in me and I realized that I really wanted help and was willing to do anything. In desperation, I called the Granada house. What changed in me that I would beg for help and mean it? All can say is that I surrendered.

 

On Christmas Eve 1992, I entered the Granada House. For the first time ever I did what I was told. I welcomed house restrictions. I welcomed meetings. I welcomed chores. Once, I even asked to be drug tested. I no longer said "Yeah, I know" or "you don't understand" or "I am different" or "I have it under control". Every day in the Granada House I wanted to use drugs, but somehow I did not. I did not believe that I could ever stay clean, but I did. I prayed even though I claimed to be an atheist. Going through the Granada House was the simplest, yet hardest, thing I ever did. I just followed the instructions. After graduating, I spent even more time around the house and ended up moving back in as a live-in staff member. I didn't want to be a counselor, I just didn't know how, or maybe I was too scared to try to live on my own and stay clean. I did eventually move on and build my own life, but I still follow the instructions. I go to meetings, I am active in a group, I have a sponsor, and to the best of my ability, I am honest, opened-minded, and willing.

 

To this day I still feel as though Granada House is my home. Over the past decade, I have made many mistakes, except for one, using drugs or alcohol. I have also had many successes. I have been married had a child and gone through a divorce. I have acquired material possessions, earned two graduate degrees, and built an outstanding career with purpose and satisfaction. I enjoy wonderful relationships with my family, friends, and even my ex-wife who is a remarkable mother for our son. A profound gift is the ability to be in the moment. I can enjoy a moment in time where nothing else matters except being present. This is not always easy for me because, for most of my life, I did not even know what that meant. The most extraordinary gift of all is my son, with whom I share many of those moments. I have stood in the pouring rain jumping in puddles with him, have been kicked in the head by him at 3 am, and have had my finger tugged by him to see the ducks. To be part of a young life in a single moment is extraordinary. For the many moments I am present with unconditional love to share with my son, I thank the Granada House.