What You Did is Not Who You Are.

Isn't it funny how numbers can earmark memorable events? I remember noticing "4:39" glowing red on my dashboard. I glanced at the time right before I turned my car off one frigid January evening.

I had to be in the office by 9:00 am.

My buddy Harris (name changed) and I had tried all night to find more meth. It was one of those occasions when it wasn't about the supply as much as it was the quest. Crystal will make you hyper-focused on a goal.

Our last resort was a man I typically avoided because he was determined to coax me into participating in his fetishes. That story will be told another time.

Harris and I both stared at the room door of the Knights Inn, number 301 (another number). The sounds of blaring porn from inside made my stomach turn and we both paused in hesitation.

"This isn't going to be good." He said to me and looked back at the car.

"We aren't leaving." I sternly announced to him and forced myself to knock. (continued below)

I heard the 'come in' shout from inside and turned the knob. The scene was worse than I expected.

On one bed of the hotel room, a young man was passed out while another man was taking advantage of the situation. On the second bed, a man had tied off his arm and was trying to inject. Neither of them even looked up at us.

We had to step over an unconscious man on the floor in front of the TV.

And then our dealer. He was sitting naked in the corner of the room, covered in feces. I remember trembling. As daring and fearless as I was as a meth addict, this room scared the living hell out of me.

And the smell in the room was thick and sickening.

The dealer was determined to make us stay. Finally, he gave up and nodded toward the counter where our baggie lay. I dropped the cash, and we literally ran.

Sitting in the car, we were both panting. I stared at the 301 on the door and muttered, "This is who I am now."

Many of us are traumatized by what we did, said, or saw while in active addiction to crystal meth. The drug erodes our boundaries and skews decision-making. It can be quite difficult to overwrite those memories because they are in shocking contrast to our sober personality.

I had convinced myself during my addiction that the man who stole carts full of merchandise from Target and cashed fraudulent checks was the "real me." Meth told me that this bad boy had been trapped inside all of my life.

The truth is that the bad boy had been trapped inside, but he wasn't a thief. He was an angry little boy who was told not to come out. He was made to feel wrong, ugly, sinful, and rejected.

Crystal meth allowed him to feel free. Handsome. Accepted.

That incident at 4:39 am was who I became. But it isn't who I am. And no matter what you did during your addiction, you aren't defined by it.

Recovery is about finding that little boy (or girl) inside who wants to come out and play. It is about helping them to feel safe, seen, and heard. It is about giving yourself what you never received.

You can do this.

I'm here to support you. If you are interested in joining the waitlist for 1:1 coaching or joining my group coaching program (another community for everyone is coming soon) OR if you would like a half-day intensive, reply to this email, and we will get the conversation started.

I love you and pray that you make this a fabulous week.

Dallas 💚