•
Experiences

Being kind is something I find really challenging at times.
For some people it comes naturally. For me, it does not.
I am not cruel on purpose anymore, but that does not mean I am incapable of it. It simply means I try not to be. And I do try, very hard.
I wanted to write this as a clear reminder that no matter how much you turn your life around and try to be honest, decent, loving and kind, you will still have moments where you think the only way to deal with someone is with violence.
It is okay to think it. It is not okay to act on it.
I am working through the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and I attend Narcotics Anonymous meetings every week. The program asks me to look closely at myself and take responsibility for my own behaviour, regardless of what anyone else has done.
I can only control how I act and react. I am not particularly fond of this.
No one enjoys being told they are part of the problem. As it turns out, I often am. That realisation is humbling when I can put my ego aside and not let pride take over my thoughts and actions.
With or without drugs and alcohol, I still need reminders from my sponsor, friends and family that violence is not acceptable.
Being kind is something I find really challenging at times.
For some people it comes naturally. For me, it does not.
I am not cruel on purpose anymore, but that does not mean I am incapable of it. It simply means I try not to be. And I do try, very hard.
I wanted to write this as a clear reminder that no matter how much you turn your life around and try to be honest, decent, loving and kind, you will still have moments where you think the only way to deal with someone is with violence.
It is okay to think it. It is not okay to act on it.
I am working through the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and I attend Narcotics Anonymous meetings every week. The program asks me to look closely at myself and take responsibility for my own behaviour, regardless of what anyone else has done.
I can only control how I act and react. I am not particularly fond of this.
No one enjoys being told they are part of the problem. As it turns out, I often am. That realisation is humbling when I can put my ego aside and not let pride take over my thoughts and actions.
With or without drugs and alcohol, I still need reminders from my sponsor, friends and family that violence is not acceptable.
Sometimes I say to my sponsor, “Yes, but this person did…”. She simply looks at me and says nothing, just holds my gaze. In those moments I might even think, “Now I want to punch you in the throat as well”.
Then I stop, breathe and recognise what is happening. That is the old Kelly talking. That is not how the sober Kelly wants to show up in the world today.
My sponsor loves me, and I know that. I am still human, though, and humans make mistakes.
I make them often. But showing up as a sober woman and taking ownership of those mistakes is progress. I can accept that I am not perfect. I allow myself to sit with uncomfortable feelings,whether that is anger, sadness or genuine hurt.
The feelings pass, and in time they no longer feel so overwhelming. That is life in sobriety. I can honestly say my worst day sober is better than any day I lived in active addiction.
Do not be mistaken, though. I still walk past the pub on a hot summer’s day and feel the pull of going in, ordering a pint and lining up a shot at the pool table.
I do not know if that feeling will ever completely disappear. What I do know is that it no longer controls my life. And today, I am proud to be a sober woman.
I speak about this often. For those of you who have just entered prison, or who have not heard me share my story before, go to an AA or NA meeting while you are inside.
You have nothing to lose. Find a sponsor and start working the steps. It could save your life. It saved mine.
One of the sayings in the program is that you can only keep what you have by giving it away to the addict who is still suffering. That is why I write this.
Sometimes I say to my sponsor, “Yes, but this person did…”. She simply looks at me and says nothing, just holds my gaze. In those moments I might even think, “Now I want to punch you in the throat as well”.
Then I stop, breathe and recognise what is happening. That is the old Kelly talking. That is not how the sober Kelly wants to show up in the world today.
My sponsor loves me, and I know that. I am still human, though, and humans make mistakes.
I make them often. But showing up as a sober woman and taking ownership of those mistakes is progress. I can accept that I am not perfect. I allow myself to sit with uncomfortable feelings,whether that is anger, sadness or genuine hurt.
The feelings pass, and in time they no longer feel so overwhelming. That is life in sobriety. I can honestly say my worst day sober is better than any day I lived in active addiction.
Do not be mistaken, though. I still walk past the pub on a hot summer’s day and feel the pull of going in, ordering a pint and lining up a shot at the pool table.
I do not know if that feeling will ever completely disappear. What I do know is that it no longer controls my life. And today, I am proud to be a sober woman.
I speak about this often. For those of you who have just entered prison, or who have not heard me share my story before, go to an AA or NA meeting while you are inside.
You have nothing to lose. Find a sponsor and start working the steps. It could save your life. It saved mine.
One of the sayings in the program is that you can only keep what you have by giving it away to the addict who is still suffering. That is why I write this.
My name is David. I am a proud Yorta Yorta man currently locked up in Victoria.
It was mid-afternoon in the Port Campbell area, with a southerly wind blowing, and Henry and I were just about to leave the Boggy Creek Café.
Father’s Day can bring pride, guilt, sadness, hope, or all of them at once, and being in jail doesn’t stop that.
It’s 7:45 AM. That annoying intercom announces 10 minutes to unlock count.