Work Text:
Today, 10:47 PM
> Hey. It's Cassie. From work. I don't know if you have my number in your phone. Just checking in.
>I was thinking about what you were saying earlier today. I don't know what you were going through last year. Not anymore than we were told. And, honestly, the rest is none of my business. I don't need details. But I do know what recovery can be like. And I was thinking there was just some stuff that I wished someone had told me when I was going through it. But anyway. Take it or leave it.
>So.
> I don't want to get into it… I'm not going to get into it…but like I said today I was an addict. And still am, I guess, even though I've been sober 10 years. It sort of sticks with you in a lot of ways forever. Not to freak you out or anything. But anyway. I made a lot of bad decisions and they came back to bite me hard. When I was around your age, actually.
>That's not the point.
>I'm just trying to say that I get it.
>I hope you have an easier time being sober. I still don't find it easy. It's always sort of in the back of my mind, like it's waiting to ambush me on a bad day. You can go a long time without slipping and then out of nowhere it will come up again. Like your brain is a haunted house.
>At least that's what I find it's like for me. I don't know what it's like for you. I can't guess at that.
>But if you do slip you can always start again. There's always that. Always, always, always.
>I think the most important thing is to be kind to yourself. Honest with yourself, definitely, but also kind.
> I wasn't trying to be nosy but I did see you cornering people all day to talk to them. I've done programs. I know it's what you're told to do, to take accountability, so I won't tell you not to do it. Do what you need to do, but once you've gone through everyone once, stop. Don't come back into work tomorrow and try to apologize to everyone all over again. I promise no one wants that.Everyone just wants to move on. You should, too.
> Self-pity can be its own kind of addiction. Every time you say i'm sorry is a chance that someone might tell you it's okay. And people will tell you it's okay. Enough that it might make you think that maybe it wasn't that bad. But it was that bad, even if people didn't know it.
>Especially if people didn't know it.
>You weren't hiding it because it was good.
>In some ways I want to tell you you are lucky in a way because most people didn't know. Addiction makes you into a worse version of yourself. I wasn't any good at hiding it.
>But luck probably isn't the right word. I just mean people didn't notice what was happening to you. Whether that's a good thing or not. I had no idea.
>But I get it. You want people to like you still. You want to hear that they still like you. And you'll want to hear it again and again and again from as many people who will say it to your face, because you probably don't like yourself all that much right now… and you just need to hear someone say to you that you're not fundamentally unlikeable now. You still feel like you're that worse version of yourself even though you're working hard on being better.
>But yeah.
>Some people will say it's okay and forgive you. Some people will say it's okay when it definitely isn't and you'll just have to figure out the difference over time. Sometimes it will really blindside you.
>Don't chase the people who don't forgive you.
>Say what you need to if you really need to say it, but then give them space. If they want to come back they will. But if they don't, then they don't. And, yes, it's probably your fault. Some things are straight-up just your fault and there's no coming back from that. But I guess the way I've thought about it is that back is not where I ever want to go. Try to think about how to go forward instead, and how to be good for the people who come with you. And the people you meet when you get there. That sort of thing.
>Another thing: trust is earned and you've broken it. It doesn't matter that no one was really hurt. You will have to work harder to prove to the people around you that you can be trusted. That takes time and jumping through a whole lot of hoops that you've probably never had to jump through before. People will look at you sideways and question you on things that you always took for granted before. Especially at work. But also everywhere else, too. And it will make you feel like pure shit. It'll make you wish you were numbed out, so be prepared for that.
> Okay, last thing: your kiddos. You're not failing them. You're not a failure because you're still here for them. Repeat that to yourself as often as you need to. Until it feels true. I wish someone had told me that more often. Staying in recovery is the best thing you could do for them. I promise.
> Again. If you want to talk about it, I'm happy to listen. I thought I'd text you because these kinds of conversations are sometimes harder face-to-face. If you don't want to talk to me about it, that's fine, too. But you should probably talk to someone. Definitely keep going to therapy if you're doing that, but also talk to someone you're not actively trying to apologize to. It doesn't have to be me. I think you have more people in your corner than you realize.
Read 11:02 PM