I’ve never completely lost everything I own, but I’ve come close twice in my life because I was always running away from my problems. It’s hard to run and hold on to things at the same time.
The first time was when my marriage fell apart due to my return to addiction. Cocaine and alcohol became my daily crutches, leading to wild mood swings—from deep despair to party animal to rage—almost overnight. This chaos affected my family profoundly, and eventually, my ex-wife no longer wanted me around. I left that day, losing my house and most of my belongings, taking only a bag of clothes and a few items I thought were valuable.
I managed to rebuild my life a bit afterward. I stopped using drugs but continued drinking. I stayed involved in my children’s lives, driven by guilt over the damage I had caused them. I thought I was being a great single dad, doing fun things with them, but I was often drunk.
Eventually, I met someone new, and we got married. My drinking became more controlled but still present, often hidden when I was around family. It escalated again, leading me to neglect my wife and children, putting me on the brink of losing everything once more. However, this time my family hadn’t completely given up on me. I discovered Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and found strength in the program and in other recovering alcoholics.
After several months of sobriety, I reflected on my life and realised something profound: my possessions never really mattered. The true “everything” I almost lost was the love and care of my family. I knew I wouldn’t get a third chance, and without them, I’d be truly alone in a world I’d created for myself.
Today, I’m not alone. By following the AA program and staying sober one day at a time, I feel incredibly lucky. What I have now isn’t about physical items; it’s about my family and their love.
Lost and Found
Twice have I teetered on the precipice,
A man adrift, a soul in disarray.
My problems, like a tide, would ceaselessly
Wash over me, eroding what I’d saved.
A marriage shattered, love turned into dust,
As substances ensnared me, mind and soul.
My world, once vibrant, turned into a rust,
A barren wasteland, where my demons strolled.
I fled, a ghost, devoid of hope and grace,
With only shadows as my constant guide.
Yet, in the wreckage, I found a fragile space
To rebuild what had been torn aside.
Though I escaped the clutches of despair,
The chains of habit still held me fast.
A single dad, consumed by guilt and care,
I stumbled through the days, a tragic cast.
Again, I stood upon the brink of fall,
My family’s love, a fading, distant light.
But in the depths, I heard a desperate call,
A beacon guiding me through darkest night.
In AA’s halls, I found a kindred band,
Who shared my struggles, understood my pain.
Together, we would rise, hand in hand,
And claim the victory over vice again.
Through sobriety, a clarity emerged,
A newfound understanding, deep and true.
My possessions, once so dearly cherished,
Were mere illusions, fleeting, false, untrue.
The "everything" I’d nearly lost was love,
The bond of family, strong and deep and true.
A third chance, a gift from heaven above,
I vowed to cherish, honour, see it through.
Today, I stand, a man transformed and free,
No longer haunted by the ghosts of past.
The love I’ve found, a treasure to me,
A gift of grace that will forever last.
