Seeds in the soil~ Finding Hope After Relapse~ Guest Writer Niki Schultz
- spacetofeelings
- Sep 1
- 3 min read
Seeds in the soil ~ Finding Hope After Relapse
There are moments in life when words fall short, yet feelings are too enormous not to get out. As a writer, being able to put pen to paper is a gift I treasure, a tool for healing, a safe space. This has been the case since I was a young girl.
When asked to share here on www.spacetofeelings.com by my dear Joanie, I felt so honored. I also felt a whole host of other things, including fear, doubt, and unworthiness.
As a recovering alcoholic, a relapse… then another just 3 months later, can shake one to the core.
But upon reflection, I had to go back to the basics of what my first sponsor taught me. It’s not about me. It’s never about me when it comes to my recovery. It’s always about the still-suffering alcoholic. This is one of the great many paradoxes of Alcoholics Anonymous: when I get out of myself and into helping another, my healing is well underway.
The Big Book puts it this way: “Our primary purpose is to stay sober and help other alcoholics to achieve sobriety.”
So, in the spirit of this principle by which I try to live my life, I choose not to give weight to the fear, doubt, and unworthiness that chatter away as I clack at the keyboard. I know they are part of my disease of alcoholism. This disease lies to me. If it can get me to feel bad enough about myself, I will drink/use, relapse, and die.
I don’t have another relapse in me. I’ve had 6 significant ones that have nearly killed me, one ending in congestive heart failure. I am 51 years old.
I won’t go into the details surrounding the last 2, but suffice it to say I managed to shatter the hearts and trust of the 3 people I love more than anything in the world: my boys, now men, ages 22 and 30, and my new husband, married only a year. He holds 36 years of continuous sobriety in Alcoholics Anonymous.
It’s been a season where I’ve felt so lost, fragile, uncertain, and terrified, and for the first time in my life, as if I was unable to stand on my own.
But what I have come to learn is that relapse does not mean unworthiness. It means I am a human being, a human being with a disease; just as if I had diabetes, I must treat this disease with a healthy fear and respect. And the clincher, the one lesson I have learned the hard way: I must treat it one day at a time. There are days I must treat it one minute at a time.
Being raw when feeling the edges of hell, inexplicable pain, and as the Big Book states, “pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization,” makes one tender, as if walking around with salt in the wounds of one's soul.
Yet, together, we can be strong enough to breathe through them. The silver lining, and they are everywhere when we look for them, is that we learn from those moments.
They form the rich, dark soil into which new, life-affirming seeds are planted. It means it [the relapses] was not a waste, not a mistake. In the overall big picture, they were necessary on my soul’s journey into the next chapter.
The fact that I didn’t die leads me to believe the next chapter will be more beautiful, bountiful, and fruitful than anything I’d ever dreamed possible. This is hope. I do have hope today!
Instilled by the love and endless forgiveness of my family, the workers at the treatment center, and the incredible friends I met there, the grand sponsor who meets me at a meeting, and the sponsee with 7 years sober who is now sponsoring me, I have a heart full of hope.
The new goal is to hold myself with the same tenderness I would my children, soft, warm, and overflowing with love unconditionally. It is to go slow and to remember that my disappointment and resentments are in direct proportion to my expectations. It is to understand that my worthiness stems from all I’ve been through both good and perhaps especially bad, for when I share with another, seeds of hope fly free.
If you are trapped in the web of addiction in any way, please remember, you are never alone.
I hope you find, even in the searing ache, that you are held in love, just as you are. Most importantly, you are worthy of all of your heart's desires. They wouldn’t be placed there if they weren’t meant to come to fruition.
May you dig deep in the rich soil of it all and plant your seeds, that they may spread like dandelion puffs… forever carrying a message of recovery, love, and hope.
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Beautiful writing Niki. This hit deeply "But what I have come to learn is that relapse does not mean unworthiness. It means I am a human being". Thank you for sharing your gifts with us xx
My hearfelt gratitude dear Niki, for your vulnerability and courage in sharing your story. It is in the telling of it, that we are healed, and your hand is outstretched to anyone in need. I was going to post this tomorrow, yet felt compelled to do so now. Someone needs to read this today. This is for YOU. Our hands in yours. 💜🪶