By Andrew S.
Class of June ‘09
I remember sitting on the stage nervous, excited, optimistic, scared, and a whole other plethora of emotions. And then it was time, Jan Cheripko announced, “Andrew S., New York State Regents Diploma.”
It hit me all at once: no longer would I be sheltered from the temptation that exists in the world we live in. I was leaving behind so much: friends, security, people who cared, and people who understood what I had been through. Giddy is the closest word I can think of that fits the way I felt as I left the campus.
When I returned home, I thought everything would be fine and I would have nothing to worry about. Within two weeks of leaving, I was contacted by my ex-girlfriend and she invited me to smoke crack with her.
I juggled the thought in my head for a moment but, out of nowhere, something, a power that far exceeded my own, gave me the strength to say no and to reaffirm that I was living a new life, a sober life.
I would like to say that that was my last encounter with the temptations of addiction but, although it was not, each time I have had to face my addiction it has gotten easier to assert myself and walk away. The support group of sober friends, my family, and my higher power has strengthened me and helped me to carry on.
The first job I obtained after leaving Chris Stein’s cozy, yet intimidating, journalism cave was more of a reminder of where I had come from. I was contacted by a family friend and told of an employment opportunity. A couple had been evicted and the apartment needed to be emptied and cleaned.
The ironic part was the reason the couple had been evicted. The lady had gone on a week-long drinking binge and destroyed nearly everything in the place. Shattered glass from mirrors sticking out of the carpet, alcohol containers hidden under clothes, behind dressers, and nearly every spot imaginable (all completely empty), defecation from a dog all over the floor, and a few needles hidden below the kitchen sink told the tale of her troubles.
The walls were stained yellow by cigarette smoke and it was impossible for one to stand in the apartment for more than 20-30 minute intervals because of the stench of stale smoke seeping out of the furniture, carpet, and walls. One would think this scene would be found in a low-income housing apartment complex, but this mess was in the very ritzy city of Reston, Va. The scariest part was finding the AA literature almost as if it were purposely hidden in the apartment.
This person had once been in recovery, just like me, and now was worse off than anyone could ever have imagined and had skipped town. All I could think was that addiction is real and I am going to have to face it when I’m least expecting it. No matter how successful I become, it will always exist. Every day that I wake up I realize that anything could happen and I have to be strong and use the support of those around me.
The rest of the summer was rather relaxing and it was finally time for me to go to college. I again experienced all the emotions I had felt when leaving The Family Foundation School. A new environment that is foreign to me means not knowing. And not knowing, for me, means fear. However, I was lucky; I got into a special program made to nurture leadership and service in its members.
Volunteering has been a great way to give back to the community, as before I arrived at FFS I was nowhere near an upstanding citizen. I was addicted to cocaine among a number of other drugs, and I was a poison to all those around me.
Now I lead a community service program in which we mentor students at a local middle school and give them the attention they need as well as play team skill-building games. I also have volunteered at the local SPCA, at the “Friday Night Dry” (a Friday night party hosted by my college dedicated to sober fun), and at number of other events.
Of course, on the campus there are parties, but I have established a group of friends who know my history and understand my dedication to a sober lifestyle. I even found a girlfriend who respects me for me and does not like to party or engage in illicit activities, something I once thought was impossible.
I remember being pessimistic at the school about my chances for success, but so far things are going well and I know that I am sober today as I am writing this article. Not every decision I made has been perfect, but I don’t let one decision lead me to the string of decisions that will lead me to a drug.
So for those of you still at FFS, it is up to you when you leave, and if you do want sobriety (I mean really want it), you will have sobriety. All it requires is work, faith, and a whole lot of fun.
