Happiness in Addiction Recovery - A Celebration of National Admit You're Happy Month!

Katie McKenna • Aug 02, 2022

Happiness in Addiction Recovery - A Celebration of National Admit You're Happy Month!

It’s August! Did you know that August is “Admit You’re Happy Month”? 


What would you admit you’re happy about?

Those of us in recovery know what it’s like to get hooked into the toxic and deadly cycle of chasing imitation happiness, in all of its various forms. The way I look at it is that with imitation happiness, you pay a price, and the price is misery. With genuine happiness however, there’s no price to pay. You just get to enjoy it and all the pleasant, blissful sensations it brings. 


My first day of August kicked off in the morning getting my two daughters ready for camp before I had to work. They were extremely excited, because they were going swimming and that’s just about their favorite thing ever. They were happily in the zone, giggling away, playing some make believe game with their dolls. It was getting near time to go so of course, here comes Mom, being a giant buzzkill:


“Girls.. Get your shoes on! Now!” 


Even in the moment I realized that I was potentially killing their whole happy vibe with my insistence that they stop playing and get serious! The pressure of having to stick to a schedule and all that. Fortunately, they were unphased by my stress and put their shoes on, still laughing and happy as we walked out the door. 


We go outside and the neighbor next door is playing with his little baby on their front stoop. This baby is gorgeous and smiling from ear to ear! I comment, “Wow, she’s always SO HAPPY!” 


Happiness is contagious. In that moment, knowing my kids were so happy, and then to see that cute little baby happy and smiling, it made me just smile, and relax.. and feel so happy too. We get in the car and I decide to play my daughter’s favorite song, “This Girl is on Fire” by Alicia Keys. While we were on vacation back in July we listened to this song over and over again, and it became their official anthem! So they were excited that I decided to blast it for the car ride. We all just cut loose and sang at the top of our lungs, “THIS GIRL IS ON FIRE! THIS GIRL IS ON FIRE!” It brought back very recent, happy memories of how much fun we all had together on our vacation.

Music is really something that can make you feel instantly happy isn’t it?  Especially a song you LOVE, and a song you and someone else love together. I have to admit, I never loved the song, “This Girl is on Fire” before, but I do now. I do now because my daughters love it, and to hear them sing it together is the cutest, sweetest thing that honestly makes me feel so happy. 


As I mentioned before, being in recovery, you come out of such a dark place and begin to experience life in an organic way and these moments of happiness somehow become so much more meaningful. But if you really think about it, the opportunities to be happy were always there all along. I watch my kids and how EASY it is for them to be so happy in the moment. It makes me wonder why it seems harder to be this way as an adult. What changed? 


I am not sure of the answer, but for now I will admit that I am happy singing with my kids, and having a baby smile at me and feeling the sun shine on my face. Life just gave me these little moments! They didn’t need to be enhanced or chemically altered in any way and I appreciate them for what they are. 


So since August is “Admit You’re Happy” month, go ahead and admit you’re happy! Just because it feels good. Happiness is happening all around us and life is beautiful. 

Worth the Wait: Megan's Path to Lasting Addiction Recovery and Purpose

By Megan Miller, CAC • 29 Oct, 2024
I grew up full of fear. Everything terrified me. I never felt comfortable in my own skin. It wasn’t until I started smoking pot at 14—because I was too afraid to stand up to peer pressure—that I finally felt a sense of freedom and relaxation for the first time. I chased that high for the next 16 years. Somehow, I managed to graduate college with an OxyContin addiction, and after that, with nothing tethering me to the real world, things got a lot worse. I went to detox for the first of many times in 2005. I left there thinking I wasn’t an addict and that my use had just gotten out of control. That denial kept me in and out of treatment for the next decade. Heroin became my entire life. I couldn’t hold a job, I overdosed, I got Hepatitis C from sharing needles, and I didn’t care about anything except getting high. I was so full of shame at what my life had become, but I just couldn’t stop. I was great at trying to stop, but I couldn’t stay stopped. The gift of desperation came to me in April 2012. I couldn’t keep living the way I was. I finally wanted to live instead of die. That compulsion to use left me when I finally surrendered to it. Today, I wake up grateful for the life I have. My 6-year-old daughter is the greatest joy of my life, and she has never seen me use. Today, with the support of my wonderful husband, my family, and my recovery network, I live a full life of joy and purpose. There is no more rewarding feeling in the world than sharing the gift of recovery with others.

Overdose Awareness Day: A Reflection on Hope and Recovery

By Dave Aumiller, CPS, NCPRSS • 03 Sep, 2024
Overdose. It’s a word that catches in my throat and a topic that stops me in my tracks. As a person in long-term recovery from Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD) and Substance Use Disorder (SUD), I have overdosed many times. I have been revived by paramedics three times. Waking up in a hospital bed with no idea how I got there—scared. Or in the back of an ambulance, sick and angry for being Narcaned, a crazed hostage of my addicted mind. Or in a front yard, soaking wet from someone throwing me in a cold shower, unsuccessfully trying to revive me before leaving me outside—confused. These experiences don’t account for the countless times I have overdosed and been revived by a concerned party—now scarred by the trauma of my disease in its final stage, trying to carry out its final act, resulting in an untimely death. Overdose. After all of this, it was the kindness and care of others that made the difference between another chance and another day. Another dose of hope and life. An opportunity to begin again. On a day like today, reflecting on a topic that is so close to the heart of everyone connected to this reality, I am grateful. I am hopeful. I am humble. Because I know how lucky I am. How undeserving I was. And I live my amends and gratitude by doing my best to embody and live the values of a recovery that works. I also keep close to my heart, at the forefront of my mind, and on the tip of my tongue, the names of the countless others who weren’t as lucky as I. In honor of Overdose Awareness Day, I will say the names of my friends who weren’t fortunate enough to receive as many chances as I did, and I will live in their names—sober today and willing to extend a hand to anyone who needs it in their journey to recover and spread hope to both the sufferer and the caregiver.  Today, let us remember those we have lost, cherish the moments we have been given, and continue to fight for a future where overdose is a distant memory. Together, we can make a difference. Together, we can spread hope.

Overdose Awareness Day: Survivor's Guilt Transformed into Hope

By Shannon Schwoeble, CPS • 29 Aug, 2024
I was devastated when I heard that another close friend I'd made in treatment was gone. Seven friends in my first six months—two had come into treatment, left, and passed away while I was still there. In the years that followed, many others who had walked this path alongside me were lost as well. Nine in my first year of recovery. I found myself asking, "Why am I still here? Why didn’t they ‘get it’?"  Survivor’s guilt was not something I expected to experience in recovery. It hit me hard and fast when I began my journey in 2011. I was terrified. I would sit and think about friends I had just seen or spoken to—did they seem different? Did they sound off? I was so scared of who I would lose next. Through my work with a therapist and finding my own voice, I learned to transform my survivor's guilt into hope. I realized that by using my voice, sharing my story, saying their names, and talking about the profound impact each of them had on me—in life and in death—I could help others understand that recovery is possible. Perhaps, something I share will give someone struggling a glimmer of hope that they, too, can find recovery. On Overdose Awareness Day, August 31, we remember and honor those we've lost to this devastating disease. In loving memory of Ben, Pat, Krista, Harry, Christina, Brook, Dustin, Jeff, Jamie, and everyone we have lost—you are remembered and loved, today and every day.
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