Recovery Meetings

I have been attending LDS Addiction Recovery meetings since July of this year. I’ve known about the meetings for a long time. They’re based on the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous but have been adapted to serve as a general addiction recovery program focusing on the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I used to run into people on my mission who swore by Alcoholics Anonymous, saying it had changed their lives. I owned a copy of the manual, but had never read it, and my dad had been encouraging me to attend for a few months.

I didn’t want to go – I was humiliated and prideful (at the same time no less!). The idea of sitting down with complete strangers and spilling my darkest secrets seemed ridiculous. “They’ll probably all be weird people who really need help – I’ll be able to manage without a little self-confidence group.”

It took me a long time to come to the conclusion that I needed more help than I was currently receiving. Strangely, this realization post-dated my first recovery meeting. Attendance was not my idea of a good time! While speaking to my doctor about my clinical depression I was bluntly ordered to attend. In a moment of weakness I conceded. He made me promise to report to him at our next appointment. Ugh.

I found out what time a sexual addiction recovery group met and faithfully arrived about 20 minutes early for my first meeting. I was the first one there. Ugh. I felt like crawling into a corner. I sat there for an awkward 15 minutes or so until other men started to arrive. Surprise of all surprises – these were not weird people! In fact, these guys seemed just like me. Or rather – there were so many different types of men in attendance that I did not feel so strange after all! There were older and younger men, single and married, obvious professionals, and guys like me who seemed to be taking life pretty hard. I didn’t stick out.

It is a paradox that I felt more at home with a collage of people than with those who were just like me. It reminded me that I was not really that different from everyone else.

Funny enough – the meeting was strangely stereotypical. When a person introduced himself, “Hello, my name is Jerry,” everyone replied, “Hello Jerry.” Then Jerry admitted, “I am addicted to pornography and lust. I’m currently working on step three and I have three days of sobriety.” Everyone then clapped! How strange. It was just like the movies.

But as the meeting progressed my desire to crawl into a corner diminished. I began to notice a calm come over me. I began to feel the spirit quite strongly. I started to relax. I felt at peace. When the meeting was over I darted out the door as quickly as possible – but I did not quickly forget the peace that I had felt.

Despite the humiliation I had been spiritually fed by my first recovery meeting.

The second week I attended I still felt humiliated and slightly amused by the oddness of it all – but I didn’t want to implode as badly as I did the week before. The third week was not so bad, and again the fourth.

Slowly I have come to learn that recovery meetings are exactly what I need. For one hour I can take off my mask of happiness and perfection, I can relax, and I can be completely honest with those around me.

The people there don't judge me because we understand one another. We know what everyone else is going through because we have been there. We know the pain, we know the loneliness and the sorrow and we are relieved to be at peace for just one hour.

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Recovery meetings are a glimpse of Zion. To me, they are what sacrament meetings are supposed to be – a group of sinners gathered together to support one another and to feel at home – at peace. In Zion we will not judge one another because we will all have gone through Babylon to get there. We will understand one another. We will see eye to eye.

Now, in my periods of sadness and despair, when I cry in prayer, “Father, I’m having a hard time,” I can look forward to the next recovery meeting. I can look forward to the whisperings of the spirit calming my troubled soul and teaching me line upon line how to change. I can look forward to the peace of the Savior and the hope of the Gospel that I feel as I gather with my fellow sinners.

I can’t imagine recovery without these meetings.