He is my addict… in recovery.

He was born in the 60s, the 2nd in a family of 3. Looking at the pictures of him baby, toddler and then teenager I find it really hard to believe all the things he did from the age of… 12. He is the proper description of an ADDICT. I would say he is an addict through and through.
Those who knew him when he was still using as he sometime says, won’t believe he has stopped and those who like me can’t even imagine him holding someone’s cigarette won’t believe he ever did use.
He started drinking when he was still a kid. Yes at 12 we are still children whether we like it or not or whether society acknowledges it or doesn’t, either way drinking and getting drunk at that age is outrageous to me.
It went from drinking to self harming and eventually to the serious stuff.
It’s funny but writing about it now makes me sad for him. I have known the story for a long time now, but it never had that effect on me. I used to have mixed feelings about the whole thing. Anger towards both him and his parents as I thought somehow they failed him. For me he was just a kid that needed a good beating (well I would have beaten the addiction out of his system!).shame of him, above all when he talks about the things that happened with no shame whatsoever not even a tiny bit regrets.

It is over 20 years now since he last held a glass of alcohol, smoked a joint, swallowed any kind of dodgy pills and snorted a line of coke. I was not around when this happened but I can assure you I would have probably dumped him… if this had happened when we met I don’t think I would have stayed anyway.

Him, my favourite addict in the whole wide world is Robin my husband.

The very first time I heard those words I was I must admit quite amazed. I am a born and raised catholic but in all those years going to church every sunday morning (or saturday night when we couldn’t to do so the next day) I had never heard anything that beautiful.

This is not how I was planning on starting to write “My Life With An Addict”, at least not with the Serenity Prayer…

The Serenity Prayer to the catholics I guess, represent the complete denial of one self in a certain way. Whoever pronounces it, does it probably thinking “Lord, I can’t take it any longer, I beg You to take them away and deal with them” just like a magic trick. L’addict will say it with the same fervor but definitely with no hope whatsoever inside of himself.

The Serenity Prayer is said at the beginning of some meetings by the addicts in recovery or not whether they believe in God or not, this actually does not matter. I say does not matter as I am quite sure it doesn’t really. You do not have to believe in God or a god to let beautiful words and phrases come out of your mouth. However, I must admit that when I heard it for the first time, in a place where many addicts where all hanging together a part of me thought about a “strange ritual”, a kind of secte. Hearing any prayer starting with God one automatically thinks about religion. I know the prayer (the word God for instance) has put plenty of people off obviously because like me they thought straight away that the whole Serenity Prayer was only meant to be said and only said in a religious way.

This prayer is beautiful, deep and so easy to understand that I think everyone, addicts or not, believers or not should at least read it and appreciate it for what it is: beautiful hopes and thoughts put together.

I think somewhere somehow it was meant for everyone whether we are believers or not.

I nearly did a runner when I saw him coming towards me. He was not what I was really expecting but I stayed, don’t ask me why but I did.
Each time we were going out I was most of the time having the usual glass of wine, he was only having orange juice, coca-cola or a glass of water. At first it didn’t bother me. .I told myself that the man simply didn’t like wine and nothing else.
After a while I started to think that something was definitely not right and I asked him: “Why don’t you ever have a glass of wine?” He smiled and said, I don’t drink alcohol” Ok fair enough, some people don’t like alcohol, some like me do. It still hadn’t rung a bell in my head.

He was/is one of the most charming person on earth, with his baby face, his gentle manners and that silly grin on his face.
I of course asked him what his job was (I was a student freshly arrived from Côte D’Ivoire. This was back in February 2003) and he told me he was a therapist. A thera-what? Never heard the word before… aaaah un thérapeute (the name in french). Oh ok. Well what do they do people called thera-thingy. No idea! At that period of my life I wasn’t really into technology if not at all. The internet for me was only to check my emails or look for a job but not more than that, not even Msn Messenger. However nowadays, someone spits out a word I don’t know I google it straight away ^_^ I am one of those who will be completely LOST and I mean LOST without Google.

I was imaging him going to work dressed up in jeans and a polo shirt even a simple t-shirt or something quite similar but boy was I surprised the first time I saw him going to work. The man was wearing a suit, a black suit with a tie! I obviously asked him where he was going dressed like this on a Saturday. Work was what he said simply. “You work on a Saturday?? Yes I do, I work everyday.” What is that therapist job then? He left and I saw his business card on the bed. His name was written under a logo which had 2 arrows and a name which I assume was the company’s name and right under was his title. He was not a therapist he was a Managing Director. The MD of the thera-thingy place.

Of course I had never heard of it.

He also used (and still does!) to leave me in bed very early every Tuesday morning dressed in his suit going God knew where. I thought it was for work but I had to ask him one day what this was all about. Was he meeting another woman, if yes why so early? Is that an english thing? He told me he was going to his meeting. Your meeting? At this time? What kind of meeting is this? I know the English start work for most of them at 9am not before. I can’t remember what he said and I obviously didn’t care/listen as I don’t recall a thing. I should have, it would have saved me a lot of time trying to understand him.

Every Tuesday morning he goes to a Self Help Group in Sydney Street in Chelsea. The meeting is held at St Lukes Church. I have never been to his meeting and hope to go there one day.