The Fight of My Life

By: Marc McMahon

So I don’t even know where to start you all. I can imagine your wondering where the hell I have been these last 6 or so months and as much as I would like to crawl under a rock and never come-out again. Instead I chose to come back here and let you all know what’s been going on since the last time we talked. To come back here and do what I do best and that is share my recovery and my life with any and all who care to listen, in hopes that by doing so I can help them avoid many of the pitfalls that I have encountered.

To hopefully help save them from some of the embarrassment, hurt, and heartache that I have had to feel. To shine a light into my darkness in hopes that it will help make another’s path a little bit brighter. But not only that but also to get my crazy ass back into the middle of this online recovery community thats loved and supported me for the past 3 years despite my shortcomings.

So, what happened? To make a long story short when I left or should I say fled my life long home of W.A. state back in 2015 to make a new start clean and sober down here in Oregon I didn’t let’s say have all my ducks in a row. I had accumulated a handful of arrest warrants from things I had done while in my addiction and instead of taking care of those issues I chose to run in hopes that the changing of my lifestyle would somehow make them disappear.

Well, they didn’t. So on Halloween night as I was walking back to my apartment from the local convenience store across the street I was approached by one of our local policemen and asked if they could see my I.D. because I fit the description of someone they were looking for. I was a little nervous but was hoping since I had switched my driver’s license from W.A. to an Oregon I.D. card that when they ran it for warrants it would come back ok since I had never been in trouble in Oregon.

Photo by Pixabay

Not my luck. Nope, the policeman ran my I.D. and about a minute later three more units arrived and they all informed me I had warrants out of W.A. and that I was going to be arrested and sent back there to take care of them. This definitely was not what I had planned to do on my Halloween this year but something the powers that be decided I needed to take care of. So away I went on Halloween night for a week in the local county jail and then a two-day journey up interstate five to the King County Jail in downtown Seattle W.A. the last place me and my recovery wanted to find ourselves in. I spent the next four months fighting charges for crimes I had been charged with and was finally released on February 15, four and a half months after my arrest.

You know going to jail definitely was a shocking experience. Then to spend the holidays in there and my birthday didn’t help matters any but it was something I needed to quit running from and take care of so to get that all off of my back and not have any more warrants for my arrest is a wonderful thing. It’s what I let happen to me when I got out that kind of screwed me up for a minute.

Theres no easy way to say it so I am just going to tell it like it is. When I got out of jail I relapsed and have spent 6 of the last eight weeks getting high off and on, beating myself over the head, wanting to even harm myself further was another thought I had but I have been down that road before and the only place it leads to is more darkness so I chose not too. Let’s just say I have not been too happy with my damn self for allowing that to happen and am still not sure if I am even going to publish this article and continue to write.

Part of me to be honest with you is probably thinking some of the same thoughts as some of you all. Which is, if this guy cannot stay sober for more than twenty-two months at a time then where the hell does he get off writing about his recovery? And I have to say it is a valid point and one I have pondered extensively, and after careful deliberation here is what I have come up with. This decision was not made lightly either.

I almost threw in the towel, called it quits, hung up my pen, canceled my website and disappeared.

That was my gut instinct at first and it was not until I spent some time in prayer with my God that my attitude began to change. My higher power in His ever so subtle and caring way reminded me that it is not about the relapse I just had, not really. He reminded me of why I started this website in the first place and of the tremendous progress I have made over the past three-plus years and gave me a big invisible hug. Then he showed me just like he did after my last relapse that it is not about the relapse that really matters. No, it is about how we handle it after it happens.

It is about learning from it and pressing forward. It is about staying clean this next time longer than I did this last time. Then he gave me the willingness, courage, and intestinal fortitude it takes to start writing this article telling everybody what happened. Then he let me start this article and I must say I started writing this two weeks ago and it may take me a month before it is finished I do not know. All I know is that every time I sit down to write a little bit on this I write a little more than I did the last time.

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood

I knew this article had the potential to be long and I told myself to keep it under one-thousand words and here we are at almost twelve-hundred so the rest I think I will put into the next one. I just wanted to inform you all of this, apologize sincerely to those I may have let down including myself, and go for it again, continuing to learn and share as I go.

Continuing to share all of me and my many mistakes over the years with anyone who thinks they can possibly benefit from them. To share some of the wisdom it has taught me over the years, and to hide nothing and remain as transparent to the world as one human possibly can. To make damn sure that I have told it exactly like it is despite ridicule, shame, or embarrassment. I knew recovery was going to be one long-ass lifelong war for me with many battles and I knew like any war you cannot win every battle.

But you can for damn sure win more than you lose.

I think that it is my turn to flip the script on the disease of addiction for as long as me and all you soldiers can and give him a big fat black eye this time. Addiction knocked me down again but I am back up and ready to ambush his pathetic ass this next time he tries to come by.

Thank you all for continuing to put up with my many recovery shortcomings, for supporting me, and for holding me up when I could not do it myself. That’s how we do this thing, together. Stay blessed my friends and remember, I love you.

Alone we don’t stand chance, but together, we can change the world!

About The Author: Marc is a 53-year-old Author, Speaker, and Soldier in a war to loosen the grasp that Substance Abuse has on our society. He is a Father, Son, and friend to all those seeking refuge from this incorrigible disease. Marc resides in the beautiful Pacific Northwest where he enjoys, writing, hiking, and kicking the disease of addiction in the teeth, every chance he gets. As Marc always likes to say, “be blessed, my friends!”