Beautiful Acceptance



Because of the voice of the enemy, because of the oppression of the wicked: for they cast iniquity upon me, and in wrath they hate me.

My heart is sore pained within me; and the terrors of death are fallen upon me.

Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me and horror has overwhelmed me.

And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove! For them I would fly away and be at rest.

Lo, then I would wander far off and remain in the wilderness. Selah.

I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest.


I read this and felt like it was a perfect description of how I feel when anxiety has latched on to my soul.

The hand of a king that had physical enemies penned the above words. It was written thousands of years ago but I can relate to it today.


Of course my enemies are not necessarily of the physical sort; they are the lies that float around in my head. The irrational thoughts that come from misinterpreting someone’s words or intentions

They can cause me to be impulsive, thinking I need to have or do something right NOW or I will miss out or lose a friend/relationship/opportunity.


I have left jobs, careers, relationships, parties, and gatherings.

I have allowed myself to be immobilized out of fear caused by anxiety.

I have turned my anger inward and punished myself and called myself pathetic.

I have allowed people to define me-giving away my power and letting others chart my course.


This is all part of the unraveling of my dark and mostly unhappy life.

I don’t think that most people would think that about me.

I try to put on the mask of “I have it all together with a good life”


My counselor told me it wasn’t necessary to find the source of my problems; it’s more important to learn to do things differently.

In talking to her it is happening, not because she is revealing it to me, but because the little breadcrumbs I have found in my journey are leading me to the joy and freedom I have been seeking for SO long.


I have not started taking any medications. I am trying my various essential oils until I land on the one that brings a calm to my storms. I am starting an essential oils business and my first venture brought on over 20 VERY negative comments on a neighborhood post. A month ago I would have spiraled into an anxious immobilized state and stopped pursuing this business. When I read the posts I was actually very calm and responded by apologizing to anyone that was offended. I am using it as a learning opportunity.


Instead of listening to the condemning voices that use to immobilize me, I am listening to the words of other business people that went before me saying it is a hard road. I have accepted that and am prepared.


I have accepted that I have anxiety and I am reading about it. A LOT.

I am not going to use it as an excuse anymore.

I have read that we can increase our serotonin levels by what we think about and by exercising. (I knew there was something magical about Zumba)


I still have my triggers but actually found myself not responding to one of the biggest ones the other day. It’s a kind of calm that feels a bit like I’m floating. (No, I promise I’m not on drugs and no alcohol).


I’m trying to recognize the irrational thoughts and replace them with the truth.

I still feel weird, like the odd one out.

I still often feel like the king that said, Oh that I had wings like a dove! For them I would fly away and be at rest.

Lo, then I would wander far off and remain in the wilderness. Selah.

I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest.


I know I am getting closer to freedom and finding the ever so elusive answers.

I’m firing the committee members one by one that have lived in my head and lied to me for over 40 years.


I have found acceptance is a beautiful thing that comes with the promise of freedom!

Here we go

This picture is of the inside of a little chapel I saw on the side of the road on the way home from the Grand Canyon.

As grand as the Canyon was, this little chapel is what remains as the gem of the trip that will forever live in my heart.

As my husband was concentrating on getting home as quickly as possible, I was basking in the amazement of the Grand Canyon experience when  I looked out the window. and caught a glimpse of a random little building along the side of the road.  As tiny as this little little building was and in comparison to the speed we were going it was amazing that I saw it. So in my usual vain of curiosity I said to my husband, “we have to go back and see that, what was that”. In his usual vain of wanting to get back home as quickly as possible and being totally focused on that he replied, “Why? You saw the outside, I’m sure it’s locked anyway.” To give you a time frame this was back in 2002. I said in my usual persistent impulsive anxious tone, “No, we must go back let’s just see.” So, he gave in and we turned around. He said he would wait in the car. I walked up to the door and to my amazement it just had a bungee cord holding it shut. I was in love- a naive, unassuming little building. The bungee cord was sort of a quiet little message that was saying c’mon in if you’d like. My law abiding black and white personality of a husband said, “you can’t just open it and go in”. My respectful but adventurous side said, “of course I can, that’s why there is only a bungee cord holding it shut”. So, in we went. I was in utter awe as I stepped through the doors. The window looked out to the most amazing view, beautifully framing the wilderness behind it. But what captured my heart and brought tears to my eyes were all the notes written in pencil  on the wooden walls and benches. Oh my gosh, There were words of hope and prayers and people just letting you know they passed through there. Wow! And not only was it allowed but it was welcomed.

I tried to take my boys back there and of course it just wasn’t meaningful enough until one of their friends wanted to go. So I took my one son and his friend. He brought his guitar and we sat together, the 3 of us, and wrote notes and we sang together. He played quietly and we sang together quietly. We sang songs that glorified our creator God. It felt like He was there with us. It was like we were in a house enveloped with the most amazing sense of peace and Love. It was, well there just aren’t any words to explain it.

I can recapture that feeling when I look at this picture and think about the moment. I felt safe, peace and I felt loved.

For anyone that has never dealt with anxiety, I want you to know that those are 3 things that people with anxiety don’t experience very often.

I went to a psychiatric nurse to get medication for ADD. She asked me a forever list of questions and when she was done asking, she said to me that my attention issues were not due to ADD but were due to anxiety. Excuse me, I’m pretty sure I need more help focusing then with anxiety. I left feeling depressed. I was really looking forward to getting meds for ADD, I knew I had self diagnosed correctly. Instead she suggested Lexapro or Zoloft. Nope, not happening.

So home I went so upset with a whole new set of thoughts to roam around in my already filled to capacity brain. I knew I had anxiety but again I fought against having that as a diagnosis. I had talked to my counselor about having anxiety but I only had it with certain triggers. I struggled with accepting that I could be labeled as having anxiety. The warrior princess inside of me fought it HARD.  It was hard enough accepting that I had co-dependency tendencies.  Now anxiety?

The analytical side of me kicked in and I checked with some family members that experienced some anxiety. I was trying to compare and explain it away, Didn’t happen. Ok, so I have some compulsive behaviors and yes I have some unusual triggers. Yes, I have let fear change the course of my life. Ok, ok yes I guess I do struggle with anxiety ALOT.

I now sort of have a mental excel spreadsheet in my head where I assign past experiences to a column sorted by age, location, friend, family, acquaintance, anxiety, co-dependency and believe it or not ( I ask myself) I am finding most of the experiences are landing in the anxiety column. It’s bringing another layer of clarity which is bringing answers to unanswered questions. Shame, regret, and humiliation are trying to drag me down but my warrior princess keeps telling me we’ve got this.

I can definitely see how anxiety was a BIG factor in my decision to continue using drugs and drinking when I started at the 13.5 years of age.

I think anxiety may play a big part in addictions. I think I will write about my experiences with anxiety because I think many people that have it don’t realize it and can become hopeless as a result. If we can understand it is an ailment then we can understand and have hope that there is a cure. I’m not saying it will go away but the more understanding we have about in regards to ourselves the more we can identify when it is anxiety and that the thought s we are thinking are irrational and we don’t need to pay attention to them.

One Step

It’s just around the corner, 5 more seconds, you’re so close, you’re almost there, let’s go up to the next landing, we’ve already come this far…

These are the words that kept me going. The first I can remember was when I was in 3rd grade and I was hanging straight armed on the pull up bar trying to hang on long enough to qualify for the Presidential Physical Fitness award. I told the person in charge of monitoring that I was too weak and wouldn’t be able to last. She was a heavy set woman and her smile was life giving. This was my 2nd try. There I was hanging and said I have to let go. I looked at her and she smiled that smile and told me I could do it and that I only had 5 more seconds to go. Her next words: she told me I did it- I could let go. What I found out later is that I really only had 2 seconds to go. I let go and she swooped me up into her big smushy hug. It felt like I was being wrapped in a pillow of love. I will never forget that hug and her encouragement. I was also the proud recipient of the Presidential Physical Fitness Award.

The picture you see here was the, “let’s just make it to the next landing”. Well about 15 more “just to the next landings” we arrived at what we thought would be the top. It was a long steep climb that offered bits of relief as the path leveled out along the way. What you can’t see and what we didn’t know about was after we arrived at the supposed top it appeared that just around the bend we would arrive at the top.  It was about another 15 “just around the bends” and several steep climbs Later that we finally arrived at the top. Oh my goodness-the reward was so amazing. I was so captivated that I forgot to take pictures.

Another journey was to a waterfall. I LOVE anything that involves water so off we went. Ok, so I’m going to be very transparent here. I love nature but I have a very healthy respect for it. We got a bit of a late start and it was around 4pm. As we got deeper into the woods and farther from the safety of a shelter I began to think it must be about feeding time for the critters. I figured I probably looked like a good meal since I had too much meat on my bones. So just as I was thinking about giving my husband the alert that we better head back because “it is going to be getting dark soon” a spry smiling couple walked by and told us we were almost there. We kept going and the “almost there” was like 2 and a half miles away. I learned that day that “almost there” is a relative term. But…when we got to the waterfall, I was so grateful for the words they spoke that kept me going to the beauty I beheld at the waterfall. Of course I did pick up a pretty good sized “walking stick”for the walk back to protect me from the hungry critters.

I’m so grateful for these experiences and others like it because for the most part it is myself  and my faith that keeps me taking that “one more step”. The people in my life tend to be very black and white, very logical, very “got it all together” people and they really don’t understand what it’s like to live with anxiety. How that what appears to be life or death for me is just a mere blink for them.

I am here at my “one more step” moment in life and will keep taking that one more step, make it to one more landing, go around the next bend, walking for the “almost there” and hang on for 5 more seconds because it has always brought reward and beauty beyond anything I could comprehend. That is my hope and my prayer today.


This picture  is obviously a picture of a man  at the beach.

I went to California on a vacation with my husband and one of my dogs, the only dog we had left. We were planning to have both of our dogs with us but our beautiful Daisy girl passed just weeks before. She had liver problems and while we were waiting for our vet to come to our house and let her go peacefully, she passed with her head on my husbands lap. She wanted it to be a private passing. It was as if she knew and she wanted only family around.

Sadly we drove to California with our other dog Precious. She was definitely in mourning along with us. She was normally a very active dog in the car but this time she sat quietly in the back on the little bed we put there for her.

We got to our rental; it was a nice place with  french doors that opened on to a patio where we could sit or brush the sand off our feet before going inside. Precious would sit here and stare out the window. Almost like she was waiting for Daisy to appear.

There was a larger patio about 30 yards away that we could sit at and watch the surf. I sat there quite often and stared out into the ocean looking for answers.

I also did a lot of walking. That’s what I do-that’s who I am, I am a walker. I walk when I am anxious, angry, happy, sad. I walk to get into my space; away.

So, I am walking one day with my husband and our dog Precious. I see a man in a long black trench coat with black pants and black shoes. It appears he is standing on a ledge that drops in to the ocean. He is standing there and letting the waves break against him and drench him from head to toe. It appears he is going to let the waves pull him into the ocean and carry him out to the sea. He just keeps staring, looking out into the endless horizon. Wave after wave keeps crashing over him and drenching him. He doesn’t even lift his hand to wipe the droplets off his face. I stared at him as he stared at the ocean. At first I thought he was attempting to end his life  I realized he was just in his world of whatever created the need to be washed by the ocean. He was there again the next day and the next day. I was alone the last day that I was walking and I stopped behind him. I didn’t want to interrupt him so I just stood and watched the waves with him, behind him, as I looked out into the ocean for answers. He turned to me and asked me if I was enjoying the surf. I said, “yes, I really am”.  I turned around and a mother and her son were stopped in a car staring at the man in the long black trench coat. She mouthed the words. “is he ok?”  I mouthed back, “yes, I believe he is.” This was the 3rd day I saw him out there in the same long black trench coat, with the black pants and the black shoes. This was his daily ritual. The next morning my husband, myself, and our dog Precious went down to the beach by our rental and allowed the wind to carry some of our wonderful Daisy out into the salty sea air and into the ocean. That was three years ago but I think about this man often. I have pictures of him in the room I call our beach room; it is a guest room. I’m not sure why but I do think about him. I try not to imagine who he is or what his story is but I do. What intrigues me most is that normally I would have gone up to a person like this and asked if he was okay. For some odd reason I knew that that would be a violation of some sort of unwritten rule.

I  envy his ability to stand out there like that and not care about what anyone might think about it. I want to go back and stand in his spot and let the waves drench me from head to toe and wash away my weaknesses, my sorrows, my hurts, and my past that tries to make me believe I am worthless.

Today, I am focusing on trying to find an answer for a problem that does not belong to me but is creating so much anxiety and fear that I feel like I am trapped with no way out.

I have always been able to find a way but this time it seems impossible and I don’t feel like I can handle the outcome by letting it happen. The emotional pain is excruciating. I am praying for answers and a solution. You see the problem is not mine but is so closely related to me that the fallout will affect me.

And here I sit at what feels like rock bottom again but this time it’s not because of a chemical addiction and again I feel very alone.

Blurred Vision

I once read about an underground cave called the Lava River Cave in Flagstaff AZ . I decided it sounded like it could be a fun trip. Within the description of the site there were recommendations to bring a flashlight and extra batteries because it is dark inside. That sounded like a great adventure so off we went. When we got there all I could see was a rather large hole in the ground but people were being birthed out of it so I knew this was the place. I climbed in and down and walked a couple of steps and it was dark, rather, pitch black. I could see other people’s lights but they were of no use to me so I turned on my flashlight and carefully made my way through the cave. The terrain was very uneven with occasional cracks. We made our way through the cave and then something started to happen and I didn’t understand. My vision became dim and it was getting harder for me to see. I was getting quite anxious and my heart started to race. I didn’t know where I was in the cave and I didn’t know how or where to plant my next step because I couldn’t see the ground. It was no longer a fun adventure-I needed to get out NOW. I tried to navigate with the other lights I saw but it just kept getting darker. I could see the shape of my husband and all I could say was “babe, I can’t see, I don’t know where to go. I can see other lights but it isn’t bright enough for me.” It was getting so dark that I could barely see my hands. It was like my brain was shutting down. Then the logic half of me (my husband) casually said, (didn’t he know I thought I was dying) “Maybe your flashlight needs a new battery” Oh yeah the information about the cave did say to bring extra batteries. That was it, I wasn’t dying and I just needed to put new batteries in my flashlight.

The fear, the panic, and the illogical thinking of a codependent; it is paralyzing. So we learn how to control to avoid pain at all costs. The way it mostly plays out is by trying to control the people around us so that their lives don’t cause us any pain.

Now, as I try to navigate away from the disease of codependency my vision has become blurry, very blurry and it is getting dark and I am having trouble seeing.

My heart is having trouble navigating through the dark cave of the anxiety brought on by worry; worry caused mostly by my imagination. My present is constantly making up stories based on my past and it causes me to worry. Up to this day I actually thought I was worrying about others but it was about me. If they…will they…should I do something so they don’t…I can’t leave home so I can prevent the fights, do their laundry, find their equipment, stop them from using, preventing them from being alone, being there if they need me or something.

How do I figure out when it’s healthy to help or be there?

Am I enabling the homeless person on the corner with a sign if I give them money?

Maybe if we all stop giving them money and providing them with shelter and clothes and food then they will hit rock bottom and get real help to get out of their situation.

Am I enabling the person walking along the road with a gas can if I give them a ride? Maybe if I let them walk they won’t go as long before they put gas in their tank.

Am I enabling the person running to the next bus stop if I give them a ride to their next stop so they don’t miss the connection?

Some things are obvious. Don’t give an addict drugs or money. After that, my hearts vision is dim. Other people’s lights don’t help because how do I know if they are right. Maybe they are just tough ragged souls that don’t like people and don’t want to help anyone at any time. They would never understand my dilemma or my heart so how can I trust them.

Maybe they had a hard life and no one ever helped them so they think that is how life is.

I don’t have extra batteries to put in the lantern of my heart.

Back in the day I would just drown myself in whatever would take me away from the pain but I know I can’t do that now. I know it’s time to face the dark beast that brought me to using as an adolescent. It’s been 31 years since I have used but euphoric recall is beckoning…. bringing me more and more reasons that it is ok to just have one, do one.

It is so hard to say no to the eyes that are filled with sorrow, so hard. Instead of using I have learned how to come up with excuses which in reality is lying. The excuses are valid but it’s not the reason I would say no. The real reason is because I don’t trust; I pretty much don’t trust anyone. So I use the excuse and say no but if you keep looking at me with those sad eyes and heavy heart then I will eventually say yes. And yes, now you have learned how to puppet my heart and make me do things I don’t want to do. That is my current way of avoiding the pain. I try to prevent you from experiencing pain. What is interesting is that I am learning that it is my imagination that makes me believe you are in pain most of the time.

My hearts vision is so blurred

But damn, man I am going after the beast even if I do have to fall through a few cracks here and there.

Me-make amends-I’m the victim here


I love the story of the metamorphosis a butterfly goes through. The fact that they survive the caterpillar stage amazes me. They go through so many different stages before they break through their chrysalis, exercise their new body part and finally find the freedom to fly and grace the world with their beauty.

I remember taking a trip one time and I saw up ahead on the highway what looked to be paint splattered all over the road. When I got closer I saw that it was a MASSIVE amount of caterpillars wriggling across the road. Do you know what that does to a codependent? Let me share the twisted unhealthy thought process. My first thought was that I needed to turn around and find another route. My second thought was about how I could stop all the cars and scoot all the caterpillars across the road so they don’t get smashed, (Yes, I really thought that)

Logic does not take hold in a situation where it looks like someone or something might possibly suffer pain. We must prevent pain at all costs.

The driver (my husband) was not in agreement with me (imagine that). So, I closed my eyes and ears so that I would not see or hear them get smushed.

Another situation. We were walking up to a visitor center at the base of a mountain and the sidewalks were covered with caterpillars trying to get to their destination. I tried to step over them and scooted some over to the dirt. I even put one up in a tree by a leaf.(Here I was “helping them and they had the nerve to wiggle back to the sidewalk heading right back to their potential demise) Don’t they realize I took time away from what I was doing to help them?

I have to admit that I never helped one out of their chrysalis. It’s probably because I never saw one struggling to get out.

So, I got me arse kicked the other day. Not physically but mentally. I was at my mother’s house helping her and the Dr. Phil show came on. It grabbed my attention because it was about a family struggling with their daughter’s heroin addiction. The daughter had almost lost her life and had to have open-heart surgery and have a pacemaker. It scared her but when she got out of the hospital she went right back to using. I wanted to hear the story, no; I needed to hear the story. I wanted to wait until the end of the show to hear the “happily ever after”.

Instead, I got me arse kicked.

I listened and heard the heart of the mother as she spoke and I heard myself.

She got her arse kicked too. She would have been in intensive care and on life support if it had been a physical beating. But she needed to hear it and I did too.

Dr. Phil asked her why she keeps “rescuing her daughter” Her Mom and this Mom here-you see, we can’t stand to see people in pain. As a result, we will do whatever it takes to alleviate or prevent the pain in others.; especially our children. Dr. Phil said, (big and bold,) something to the effect of, “It’s not your daughter’s pain you are trying to take care of, it is you-you don’t want to feel pain.” Ouch-that hurt-right in the stomach went that punch, followed by a knife right through the heart. He got in “our “ faces and said it is partially our fault that they continue in their unhealthy lifestyle. Why, because we make it easier for them. We don’t let them suffer the consequences of their addictive lifestyle.

Melanie Beatty, author of “Codependent No More” says, “We can think of nothing but keeping a lid on things, controlling the problem, and making it go away, it is the stuff codependency is made of”

It’s us codependents that need the open-heart surgery. We have to learn how to detach from others and begin to deal with our own pain; take care of our own hearts, fix our own problems, stop making their problems our problems.

We codependents are the chrysalis breakers. It is too painful to witness the wriggling and writhing of others so we break open the chrysalis thinking that we are helping and protecting. We think we are helping others but we are weakening them. We suffer heartbreak because those we think we are helping have learned how to manipulate us and hurt us into giving in to their demands. We are crippling them. We are not allowing them to be strengthened while they struggle and transform in the chrysalis, We are not allowing them to struggle so that they may break through and come out beautiful with wings to fly with and grace the world with their beauty.

For so many years, I viewed myself as the victim; first as an addict and then as a wife and mother of an addict.

For this I must make amends and say I am sorry.

I am sorry for the times you told me it was an emergency and I gave you money for “gas”.

I am sorry for the times I backed down as you raged at me and I cowered in the corner of my heart and gave in to your demands.

I am sorry for the times I gave you a ride to your “job interview”

I am sorry for the time I drove you around to all the different emergency rooms because you “left your prescription drugs on the bus” and needed them refilled; if you don’t have your next dose it could cause life threatening issues. (In the back of my mind I knew you were selling them to get your illegal drugs)

I am sorry for picking you up because you missed getting off the bus (due to nodding off) to catch the next bus to get home.

I am sorry that I ignored the needles and the blackened pieces of tin foil and the missing and broken pens.

I am sorry for cleaning up your messes so that no one else would see.

I’m sorry for getting you bus tickets so you could “get around to apply for jobs”

I can come up with a million excuses for why I did what I did but it doesn’t matter.

What matters is that I weakened you and made it harder for you to develop strong wings to fly through the sky and grace us with your beauty.

Thank you for being strong enough to come to me and make amends when you attained sobriety.

One day, hopefully soon, I will be brave and come to you and make amends. Until then I will practice taking care of me so that I can break away from this terrible disease of codependency.

By the way, there was a “happily ever after “ with the Dr. Phil show. The daughter agreed she needed help and wanted to stop and went on to a rehab arranged by Dr. Phil.

Shhhhh-Do you hear that

You have to tune out everything you see to hear it.

It is so faint that you have to turn on the superhero powers of hearing. The superpower that gives you power to hear the cries of the heart.

If you listen, this is what you will hear.


It’s inaudible by the human ear because the evil villain whose name is Addiction puts a filter over the heart.

The filter changes the cries of the heart so that when the words come out they are only to manipulate to get more junk.

So, please, put on your superhero powers and listen beyond what is being said.

Have you ever known an addict that said, “I want to be an addict when I grow up.”

I had an addict in my family.

I watched, I waited, and I tried to prepare for the day when they said they were ready to stop.

They are tired, done with it,

But you haven’t finished preparing because the options are so limited.

They are too old for your insurance, they don’t have their own because they don’t work or they work but not enough hours to get work benefits, but they are just over the income threshold to qualify for government insurance, private pay is too expensive, and the free ones have a waiting list. But wait, the ads on TV, they say to call if you need help finding help for yourself or a loved one. Oh yes, you can call and they will help you find help but you still have to pay; A LOT.

So the Momma has to tell the son that he has to go stand in a line first thing in the morning to get on a waiting list to get into a rehab.

The son goes because he really wants to be done with it.

He goes and he waits in line with others. Time passes and his stomach feels like it is going to explode and splatter the sidewalk with its contents. He needs to go use the bathroom but then he’ll lose his place in line and have to start over.

And the evil villain Addiction and his demons arrive on the scene.

They lie, taunt, and seduce.

Their dialogue goes like this.

“You really need to get one more hit just until you can get in the door. Or better yet just forget the whole rehab thing. They don’t care about your pain. They will laugh at you as they watch you writhe in pain. They will make you relive things you don’t want to go through again and make you listen to others talk about their past. You will be locked up, just like a prison-NO FREEDOM. Besides you know you won’t last long without my loveliness that soothes your soul and takes you away from all the crap in your life. Come back to me, I won’t make you wait in any lines.”

So the son leaves the long line and comes home after I have gone to sleep.

He says to me with his head down and tears traveling to the ground, “I’m sorry Mom, I couldn’t do it.”

Didn’t you hear it world-he was ready. Shall I call him an immigrant or a refugee-maybe that way he can get free healthcare.

And no one answers my cries either. They look at me and say, I’m so sorry.

Maybe if I tell them about my friend whose son was found in a praying position, out of it from overdosing and he later died. Or maybe about my son’s friend whose Mom found her son dead in his closet from a heroin overdose. No, sorry is all they have to offer.


I can hear my son sobbing in his room and then silence. I go in to hold him and tell him we can keep looking but he is gone, lost in the haze of heroin.

It makes me want to use again and get lost in the haze with him-it’s just too much. I want to run and run and run to the ends of the earth and fall into the void.

I want to draw a picture of the drug lords and the crops and the runners and the corner drug dealers and the ones that mix it and package it and sneak it into babies strollers and then I want to erase the picture and have it all be GONE.

And oh if you knew everything that goes on in that vile world, I know you would want to join me.

Doesn’t anyone really hear the cries of the masses? Help me PLEASE, they cry.


Addendum: My son found sobriety. A very wonderful person agreed to pay for his rehab. It was his 4th rehab and he made it through. 7 years sober.

This is a very serious problem in this world.

Please share this and let me know what you have done to get sober or help someone else find sobriety.

I have a thought (hopefully will turn into a plan and eventually become an option to help fight the problem of drug addiction.