Guest Contributor – Christopher Camera
As my eyes slowly open upon the birth of a new morning, I jump out of bed with a feeling of excitement, inner joy, serenity, and a childlike innocence for a new day, a new adventure, a new gift. I have a deep, indescribable sense of gratitude for the life I have today, for the program of Alcoholics Anonymous, the wonderful friends I have met, the true sense of purpose and belonging that I have discovered, and, most importantly, for the unwavering love and guidance I receive from God, one grateful day at a time. It is His presence in my life that has given me a new set of eyes to see all the beauty around me, a new set of ears to listen within the silence, and a new voice to have God speak through me, my experience, strength, and hope—the language of the heart.
My day starts off with a wonderful routine of prayer, meditation, then followed by a morning meeting. Words can never truly describe the gratitude that rests within my heart and soul, because life was NOT always like this. The insidious, baffling, painful, miserably dark disease of alcoholism ripped through my heart and soul, taking me to places that can only be described as hell on Earth, an abyss of true darkness, a seemingly infinite free fall into gloom and terror.
My drinking started around the age of 21, which at the time seemed to be a welcomed release from years of unmanaged emotions such as fear, anger, abandonment, sadness, loneliness, and low self-worth. As time went on, the disease reared its hideous, devilish face, impaling me and dragging me through two-plus decades of a painfully progressive, unfathomable experience of misery, pain, and consequence that only amplified and multiplied the very emotions I tried to escape from. I was like a puppet with strings being controlled by a marionette. I became a slave to alcohol; I was powerless.
The compounded guilt and shame that continued to build up within my heart and soul were like layers of brick, slowly building my invisible, self-made prison that kept me confined for years. Multiple detoxes, rehabs, psych units, arrests, sober homes, homelessness, and suicide attempts became the definition of my life—my dreadful existence—and I believed that’s how I would eventually die.
I recall dragging my disheveled body within the cold, full of fear, time and time again, not knowing where my next drink would come from or where I would sleep that night. I felt so alone, so incredibly scared, but yet the obsession to escape through alcohol and drugs kept me on the dark, hopeless, lonely, painful path of misery. I remember checking out of rehabs and detoxes early, fully aware that I was homeless, only to succumb to the suffocating grip and obsession to drink. This repetitious cycle of doom continued for years. Not only did I hurt myself, but I unknowingly forced those I loved into a tornado of fear, wreckage, pain, anger, and sadness as well.
It was only after truly surrendering into the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous in June of 2022 that I slowly came to believe that God carried me through all those years to have me become as willing as I am today. I walked into the rooms a broken man, a man without a soul, a mere heartbeat within a shell of a human being, a man with nothing left to do but die, a scared little boy huddling with fright within.
It was the gift of desperation that brought me to the rooms of A.A., and it was the rooms of A.A. that brought me to God. I firmly believe that each and every painful experience, each and every lonely year that passed, and each and every consequence was absolutely necessary to bring me to where I am today. It is only by the grace of God that I have the ability to sit here today and type this as a sober, grateful, blessed, hopeful, faithful, serene, joyful, and free man.
What has become so incredibly important in my life is that I always remain willing, teachable, honest, grateful, and connected to God, one day at a time. The very emotions that used to take me to the depths of hell on Earth are managed today with the help of the miraculous 12 steps of A.A., the camaraderie of others, and undoubtedly God’s love and guidance.
The endless miracles that have happened in my life these past two-plus years were at one point seemingly impossible. I have made new friendships, repaired broken relationships, taken some classes, rebuilt credit, volunteered in the community, and, most importantly, I have rebuilt myself. I am no longer lost; I have been found, and that’s because I found the hand of God.
Today, I get the opportunity to share the message of hope with those still struggling, sometimes in the very facilities where I was once a hopeless patient. It’s a feeling that can only be described as dreamlike. To help both myself and others to the best of my ability with God’s love and guidance, one day at a time, has given my heart and soul an illumination like nothing I have ever felt before.
I will forever be growing as a person through progress, not perfection. I like to consider myself an unfinished painting. If I can add just one brushstroke of color to that painting—my painting of life, my journey of life—one day at a time, then I am more than happy with that. I am eager to see where the future will bring me, where God will bring me, but for now, I will stay grateful for the gift of today!
There is hope, there is light, there is peace, there is happiness. Simply said, WE DO RECOVER!
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