Answer Addiction

Tag: Helaina Hovitz

  • Taking Care of Your Mental Health in Sobriety

    Taking Care of Your Mental Health in Sobriety

    Pre-sobriety, alcohol and drugs often serve as coping mechanisms. When you quit, you’ll need different kinds of mental and emotional support. Make sure you have tools and solutions in place.

    PSA: there’s some text missing from the headlines popping up lately that show quitting drinking improves women’s mental health. 

    Essentially, the findings of the Canadian Medical Association Journal are that not drinking at all is actually better for your health than drinking when you’re stressed, no matter how much you want to lean into the whole a-glass-of-red-wine-a-day-is-good-for-you thing.

    But it’s not that simple. There’s no foolproof formula like: “If I stop drinking, then my mental health will improve” (as nice as that would be).

    For many of us, there’s legwork necessary for improving our mental health when we stop drinking and using drugs, in addition to simply stopping. When you stop drinking for an extended period of time (for some of us that may mean 24 hours, others, 4 weeks or 3 months), you may realize that you have symptoms of alcoholism or drug addiction, and the work you need to do to live a healthier life without substances will be outlined for you at a rehab facility, in a 12-step program, or via another form of recovery. 

    Or you may realize you are more of a problem drinker, who feels uncomfortable without a drink at meals, social gatherings, or after a long day, but you want to give it up for lifestyle or health reasons. You also likely have work to do for your mental health. 

    Why? Well, it was making you happy. It relaxed you. It calmed your anxiety. It signified fun, the loss of some inhibition, made things just a bit warmer and brighter and easier. It was a reward, it was something to do, and it was a way to cope with stress; not just day-to-day stress, but the stress of memories and past events that you carry around without even knowing and need to let go of. 

    If you respond internally with “Oh, darn, oh well” to the idea of a lifetime without Rosé all day, this may not pertain to you. But no matter why you drink or how often, alcohol is doing something for you. If you give it up, you may need to find another way of getting that need met. We all have (or had) our reasons, whether we’re aware of them or not, for drinking. And if it’s not just something we can just choose to leave in the interest of a more mindful yogi life or healthier gut, then it’s something we probably need to look at. 

    I spent a few years in my late teens and early twenties trying to stop drinking on my own. I was already in very strong recovery from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)—but I had no idea what I was in for when I took alcohol and weed out of the equation. If I wasn’t already in therapy, forget it—I don’t think I could have done it. 

    But what helped me the most back then were the steps, the social supports, reaching out for help, having places to go and people to see where alcohol was not present, and the continued ability to work on myself—and some other issues I didn’t know I had until I’d stopped drowning them in “social” drinks. 

    In your first few months to a year of stopping drinking, you’re going to need more than just a positive attitude to stay mentally healthy—especially because life will come slap it right out of you one day without warning, as life tends to do. 

    Here’s how you can make sure you’re prepared for anything. 

    Professional Help

    While not all therapists are amazing, the right therapist can pretty much be a hero in your life—someone who listens to you, makes you feel heard, and makes themselves available to you via text and email when you’re in crisis. These therapists guide you, challenge you, and help you grow. 

    A good therapist will see issues that drinking masked. 

    My roster included PTSD, Pre-Menstrual Dysphoric Disorder (PMDD), and I fit the bill for a few symptoms of other overlapping issues. Specific therapy, targeted therapy, is crucial for a strong recovery. For me, that meant Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT), but a therapist who specializes in addiction can also be a valuable asset. 

    We have to learn new ways of being in the world from people who understand what we’re going through and who can be objective, reliable, and helpful supports, and while seeking comfort and wisdom from our friends and family is invaluable, nothing can take the place of professional help. 

    Social Support and Community

    It’s important to lean not just on the friends you have already, but please, find a meet up, a meeting, even a local non-drinkers’ gathering where you can slowly start to form a group of contacts you can call, text, or hang out with who know how to deal with some of the issues you may experience.

    At a 12-step meeting, you can word-vom literally everything going on to a stranger, but it’s a good idea to take more care and go slower when establishing lighthearted dishing with other folks who don’t drink but who don’t identify as “addicts or alcoholics.” 

    As for your “drinking” and “using” and “partying” friends—just start to bring some awareness into the picture when you’re around them. Do they still want to hang out and do something if you’re not drinking, or going to a club or a bar? When we change, the people in our lives either change with us, or we realize we’re heading in a different direction. 

    Self-Care

    Self-care has become such a buzzword that we kind of just make it fit anywhere:

    Bath time! Self-care.

    Massage! Self-care. 

    Five gluten-free, vegan cupcakes! Self-care.

    All of these things (except maybe keep an eye on the cupcake count because sugar) qualify, and they’re wonderful. Start to figure out what makes you feel good—as you’re doing it, and not just as a means to an end. 

    Note: if you hate massages, that is not self-care. 

    But if you like to read, setting aside time from your busy schedule to spend a couple hours with a good book is a great example of self-care.

    Saying no to events you don’t want to go to when you’re exhausted—unless it’s for a good friend, or you might lose your job if you refuse—is self-care. 

    Meditation: This is terrifying at first, but it’s really not so bad if you ease into it, like sticking your toe in the temperature-regulated hotel pool. You can start with two minutes a day, and you can use an app to help you along, offering everything from vocal guidance to a gentle gong to signify the end of a timed silent session. As far as guided meditations go, they’re now specific to everything from commuting to being sick and there’s even one that addresses nervousness about meditating. And there are devices available to help, like a headband that can track your level of calm and bring your awareness back to your breath with nature sounds.

    Exercise and diet: You’ve got to keep moving. You may already be in shape, or you may be “out of shape,” but in addition to giving yourself permission to replace the sugar in alcohol with the sugar in doughnuts, it’s time to start treating your body better, since there is such a strong connection between your microbiome (gut), your brain (the prefrontal cortex reacts to processed sugar the same way it reacts to opioids—by triggering dopamine) and your overall feeling of being healthy, especially mentally healthy. You don’t need to become someone who runs a 5K or hits the gym every day and pretends to like it. But keeping your body in motion and eating healthier will yield many benefits, some immediate and some that you’ll see over time, including better sleep, improved mood, stress relief, and more. 

    Upgrade Your PPTs (people, places, things) 

    New life, new people, new things, new places, new activities. It doesn’t make sense to keep hanging out at bars anymore, and there’s a difference between showing up to a bridal shower where other women may be drinking and heading to your old haunt where the only thing to do is drink, especially after a stressful day.

    Start to discover the world around you. Try taking some classes, visit new neighborhoods and cultural institutions. See if you can pick up new hobbies or dig deeper into old ones. Use social media and the Internet to track down other people doing the same.

    It can be hard, as an adult, to make new friends, but it’s not impossible. Go somewhere people chat. A dog run or park (if you have a dog or even if you’re just “considering” getting one and gathering information), a meet up for people who love anime, a writer’s collective. Join Facebook groups or browse Meetup and see what’s out there! Taking a class by yourself is also a great way to double down: not only will you learn something new, but you’ll find others who share your interest, maybe even someone else who was also badass enough to show up solo. 

    Logistical Stability

    It’s important to have a healthy eat, sleep, work, play routine, and if you don’t have one, it’s time to make one. 

    You may already have a job that you need to turn your attention to even more deeply, and you may have a passion project you want to add into the mix. Most importantly, you should get involved with volunteer work—you don’t have to serve food at a soup kitchen; maybe you can offer your writing skills to a nonprofit, or if you know graphic design you can help them build their new website. 

    If you don’t have a steady job, look for one—a sober job is often referred to as one that isn’t our dream career, but is a place that we have to show up to regularly, keeps us accountable, provides an environment to socialize with others, and is a way for us to earn honest money. 

    If your current job makes you so unhappy it contributed to your drinking, maybe look around for something better and if you feel you’re ready, go for that dream job.

    Also, make sure your housing situation is safe and affordable, and conducive to your new way of life (i.e., if you chose your roommates because they party 24/7, it might be time to look for a new place).

    Bottom line: It’s dangerous for people who might be using alcohol or drugs to self-medicate depression or other underlying conditions to give up that medication without other supports, tools, and solutions in place. Your life is going to get bigger and better, and you’re going to get healthier—but as with all good things that don’t create a false feeling of safety and happiness, you have to do a little work to get there.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Am I Still in AA If I'm Not Going to Meetings?

    Am I Still in AA If I'm Not Going to Meetings?

    After years in recovery, certain aspects of the program may no longer be useful while others are. That doesn’t mean you have to completely shut the door.

    Hi, I’m Helaina, my sobriety date is November 12th, 2011, and right now, I’m in the grey when it comes to “the program.”

    Here’s what that means.

    A lot is being written lately about leaving 12-step programs. The alternative, of course, being staying in 12-step programs. For some people, the decision likely is clear. Maybe you’ve realized you do need more meetings, sponsorship, step-work, and fellowship for your own betterment. Great! Do it. Or you definitely need to leave everything you associate with AA behind, because it really is just not for you, and it’s not helpful. Great! Do it.

    If you have some solid recovery time, you may be somewhere in the middle, in a place where certain aspects of the program are likely no longer useful or necessary, while others are. If you’re not giving the program the same all-or-nothing you always have before, you may be feeling pressure to stay and change your behavior, get back to your former state of enthusiasm and action. Others may be giving you subtle or not-so-subtle suggestions to leave, especially if you can’t fake it til you make it anymore and you’re clearly over it.

    Finding the Grey Area in 12-Step Programs

    The groupthink can be intimidating, but you may not even have to make the decision to stay or go.

    Ironically, we spend a lot of time un-learning that kind of black and white thinking in recovery, opting instead to find peace of mind by living in the grey.

    In the grey, we can recognize that what we need and what works for us within the 12-step models can change, and that’s normal. As humans, we’re in a constant state of evolution, which is why we don’t spend our entire lives in Kindergarten (hopefully).

    For me, part of becoming a sober woman in recovery has been learning to trust that I know what’s right for me, and what works for me, while blocking out the opinions of everyone else; namely, the scare tactics, the fear of judgment, and the people who think they know what’s best for everyone. That isn’t easy.

    For a while, I kept going to meetings because I was afraid that I’d disappoint someone, maybe a sponsor, if I didn’t. I went because I didn’t want people to think I was a “bad AA.” Or I worried that people would think that I must have relapsed if I stopped going. There is a confusing contradiction in the program about how one size doesn’t fit all and everything is just a suggestion, but also that you’re headed for a miserable death if you reduce or stop going to meetings. So meetings weren’t really a useful part of my toolkit anymore, but I still carried them around until they almost became a burden instead of a cushion. But without the meetings—or with only occasional meetings—am I still in AA?

    Over time, as they say, we find a bridge back to life, and thinking in black and white is the very thing that can freeze you up while trying to walk across your bridge. So, I walk across my bridge “in the grey.”

    In the grey, you don’t have to pressure yourself to make a decision or overthink whether you’re “really” doing well. If you feel like you’re doing well, you’re probably doing well. It’s not a trap. If you haven’t spoken to your sponsor in a few months, or if you don’t have one, or if you don’t go to meetings…have you “left” AA? More grey matter coming up: you don’t have to decide to cut off everything and everyone, or do all or nothing when it comes to the program.

    Healing and Trusting Myself

    I’ve done a ton of hard work—including 12-step work —that has changed my life and allowed me to remedy what drove me to drink in the first place. I have this great life because of those early years of incredibly hard work, diligence, taking all of those suggestions as seriously as possible and doing step work over and over again, and therapy, and all the good things we do to create meaningful change in our lives.

    I finally trust that I know what’s best for myself, and I know that I always get to change my mind. It’s taken me almost half a decade to feel comfortable knowing that I don’t need to drag myself to meetings just to be a “good AA.” I don’t need the same level of therapy for PTSD with the same frequency as I did ten years ago. What I need to stay sober, physically and emotionally, has also changed over time.

    Deep down, I think that if we’re honest with ourselves at any stage in our recovery, we all know what we need to do in order to not drink—and furthermore, to be good people, kind people, honest people, considerate, thoughtful, loyal.

    Whatever your values are, identify what you need to do to keep them close and act accordingly.

    Going to a certain number of meetings, making coffee, talking to a sponsor every day is not necessarily the answer for everyone, even if it is the answer for many. I respect that the same way I hope people will respect the rest of us walking our own path with the tools we need.

    As the book says, what we learn becomes a natural working part of the mind, and so what we did during our first three years may not be what we need to do after six years, and we can trust our own thinking again. When I feel that maybe my thinking is murky here and there, I usually know to reach out to bounce those thoughts off someone else.

    But the idea of knowing yourself well enough to change your program-related behavior is not preached nearly as often warnings against it.

    Sweeping Generalizations as Scare Tactics in AA

    “I thought, ‘I got this’ and then I relapsed.”

    Or “I stopped going to meetings, and I relapsed.”

    Of course, there’s also the F word: “I forgot that I was an alcoholic and couldn’t drink normally. “

    It is important to honor people’s experiences, but it becomes dangerous when we assume that all alcoholics everywhere need to do the same thing or they risk the same fate. Using that kind of sweeping generalization as a scare tactic can be enough to cause someone to want to reject the program altogether and leave or keep doing something that just isn’t right for them anymore and stay against their better judgement.

    Relapse is not part of my story (common belief is that if I don’t say “yet” I’m also doing something dangerous, so I’m sticking that word in the grey area of these parenthesis), but I’d be willing to bet that folks who have relapsed didn’t “forget” anything. They probably didn’t forget that their drinking had serious consequences the way that one forgets to turn the light off in the kitchen or take out the trash before leaving for vacation.

    They likely made conscious choices to engage in some unhealthy behaviors again, despite knowing what they knew about themselves; what they forgot was to put into practice all the things they’d learned in the program along the way.

    For me, forgetting my inner struggles would be like forgetting that I’m a woman, or that I’m a human, or that I need to eat and sleep. I’m well aware. I’m also not walking around saying, “Darn, I’m an alcoholic!” or “I am a womannnn!” every day.

    To an extent, there is actually a level of “forgetting” that feels great. I rarely think about drinking or smoking weed. I don’t think every day about how I can’t drink. I just don’t drink anymore.

    I know that if I become complacent, I may not get to keep it all, so it’s up to me to do what I need to do in order not to get to that place. Doing something to keep up the new life we’ve created is a great idea, but for me that something isn’t to keep me from forgetting that I’m an alcoholic, but rather to keep me from forgetting what I’ve learned, how far I’ve come, and what I did to get to where I am now.

    Social support in some form is such a crucial part of any kind of recovery, but you can decide what that looks like. I’ve made amazing friends in sobriety and as sober women, we understand each other and connect on a deep level that creates a special bond and provides a unique support system. And when you have just one alcoholic talking to another, as they say, you have a meeting.

    Self-Empowerment in Recovery

    We have to give ourselves permission to feel confident that after a certain period of time, having put in the years of work, we can start to know what’s best for ourselves. That breathing room is nice. Enjoy it.

    I also know that in a year, or in five years, something in me might change again, and it may feel right to go to meetings again. I’m not digging my heels in. I’ll be grateful they’re there, because despite all of the personalities and the disappointments and frustrations that we don’t like finding “in the rooms,” it’s still a beautiful place that is home to a program that works for a lot of people. It’s something we can always count on.

    Luckily, the world of wellness has opened up. Principles and concepts that were once exclusive to 12-step are now everywhere, in books, on podcasts, on Instagram and elsewhere. Reminders to keep our side of the street clean, take things one day at a time, think about our personal boundaries, speak (and text, and email) kindly and honestly, pause before acting, meditate, forgive, practice self-care, volunteer, focus on putting good into the world and not just taking from it, are everywhere.

    We learn that to keep it, we have to give it away and for me, that’s still true. Ironically, I spent years raising my hand to offer myself as a sponsor in meetings, I gave out my number, I spoke to newcomers, and I even served as “sponsorship chair.” Yet, I never had a sponsee. Instead, I’ve carried the message through personal interactions and to people who message me after reading something I wrote. I tried carrying the message and helping other alcoholics “the traditional” way for years, and didn’t get the chance to do it that way, so I figured out the ways in which I can.

    If you don’t know where you stand around that line in the sand that separates “leaving” or “staying” then lay your blanket down, sprawl out across it, and forget about the line altogether.

    How has your 12-step participation changed over time? Do you believe people can reduce their involvement and still be okay? Sound off in the comments.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Bingeing on Horror No Longer Works, What Do I Do?

    Bingeing on Horror No Longer Works, What Do I Do?

    This insatiable hunger to feel scared has almost completely jaded me, and now I have no idea what to do with this realization.

    As a kid, I was scared of literally everything; as a teenager I was perpetually living in all forms of fear — of the real world and the imagined — as a result of undiagnosed (and then later, diagnosed but still active) Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after surviving 9/11.

    About two years ago, I started dipping my toes into the murky, red-running waters of scary movies, and then I became straight up obsessed. It was my go-to genre, and I couldn’t get enough; it became my favorite escape as a sober alcoholic, this new world that could pull me out of job stress or just take me away for a while.

    And when I started to “tolerate” these movies, but still enjoy many of them, I decided to test my boundaries and go on a scary “haunted hay ride” (made for adults). I was grossly disappointed. I wasn’t even jumping when everyone else was. It was just a ride through occasional sketchy looking scenes and people in costume assaulting our tractor. I’m from New York City, guys. That’s pretty much how it is to drive in rush hour traffic.

    My worst fear, now, is that over the past year I have become such a horror fan that I actually have become almost entirely desensitized to anything that is supposed to elicit that kind of fear. It’s to the point where not only am I now virtually un-scare-able, but even the jump scares in movies — scenes which are literally designed to assault your senses and that cause everyone else to flinch or scream — don’t even cause me to blink an eye. Or I’ll go see a horror movie with a friend and try to have fun, but…meh. It’s not like I set out to be a stick in the mud, I go in with high hopes. I’m always trying to recapture that initial rush of fear.

    It almost feels as though I have binged on horror so much that it’s stopped “working” and half the time it’s no longer fun, the same exact way it was with alcohol. I still want to use it as an escape, but I just end up disappointed.

    This insatiable hunger to feel scared has almost completely jaded me, and now I have no idea what to do with this realization.

    To back up a bit, it is common for people with a history of trauma to turn to horror in order to drum up that adrenaline rush. It’s kind of like a coping mechanism used in the face of life stressors, or just in general: seek out events or experiences that evoke similar feelings to the original trauma. Often, survivors will engage in this behavior if the trauma hasn’t been worked through all the way. There’s this interesting place where the movie or the scenario is different enough, separate enough, to feel like you’re an objective viewer or participant, yet similar enough to conjure up the feelings you need to work through in some way, to trigger the catharsis that you crave. You feel brave, like you’ve faced or conquered the demons.

    After years of therapy, I was able to work though my trauma and come out as far on the other side as is possible for someone with a condition that can always be woken up by the “right” trigger at the “right” time. It’s the same with my sobriety — with 7 years under my belt at 29 years old, my life and my brain and my body just work differently now because of all the work I put in.

    Which brings us back to this: Have I started bingeing so much on horror that it no longer provides a “fix?” And even beyond that, I’ve stopped enjoying it altogether, and sometimes even get angry at Rotten Tomatoes or IMDb reviews for “lying” to me. I knew I had crossed an arbitrary threshold I had set for “stronger” material when I sought out stuff I said I’d never watch, or would never watch again. I started with the movie that ruined my entire youth, The Exorcist. It was boring. I slept like a baby. Something was not right.

    So here I am, as another Halloween approaches, watching these meta-movies about really bad things happening on Halloween but nobody realizes they’re happening because it’s Halloween. I’m taking friends’ Netflix recommendations for movies I’ve avoided because I know they’re crap, on the off-chance they might not be and that I was too quick to judge (novelty seeking anyone?). It’s the worst. The smell of my own desperation is strong enough to make me gag.

    I then wondered if it was possible that I’d already watched all of the “good ones,” leaving me scraping the bottom of the barrel for the undiscovered. But I don’t think so. Based on IMDb ratings, a lot of them should have held up — including a few new ones in theaters. Then there’s also the issue that I have simply run out of movies. Literally, run out. I’ve seen everything on every “list” of what’s currently out, streaming, rent-able, and every other option: the indies, the lesser-knowns, the big blockbusters of the past, oh, 40 years.

    I just can’t get the same thrill from horror that I did last year. I don’t want to keep pushing to find more extreme movies — I don’t want to actually be disturbed by some underground violent, cruel nonsense. Gore porn is not my thing.

    So, what’s a girl to do?

    For now, I think the only thing left to do is the same thing we all do when we realize we’re feeling a little restless, or bored, or like we need a hit of something to make us feel different. And there’s no universal formula for that; for an alcoholic, it’s whatever we’ve learned works to help us feel settled and peaceful.

    As for finding more ways to get Halloween thrills, chills, and just plain have fun with these movies again—the jury is still out, but there are two things I know.

    One, when I have the thought “I bet if I was high, this would scare me way more” it means I need to take a step back and evaluate what’s going on with me. Why do I feel so disappointed at not getting my “fix” that I even begin to go down that road? Honestly, my life is pretty great right now, and it’s a lot more stress-free than it used to be. I need to tell myself: girlfriend, enjoy your reality, please. You worked hard to get here.

    Two, I need to look at the forest and not the trees—I have conquered horror. And if I’m being honest, every movie or show I’ve watched recently hasn’t been a total stinker. It’s kind of a victory, I suppose, that I actually smile really wide when the rare good scare hits me, even if I don’t jump or scream, and that I feel happy when an entire movie comes together for me, which it still sometimes does. I have to realize that’s kind of a good thing–I went from being scared of everything to understanding that the real world is a lot scarier than the movies—and that is a mixed bag of tricks and treats that I’ll just have to be satisfied with this year.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • The Newly Sober and Recently Incarcerated Find Purpose at DV8 Kitchen

    The Newly Sober and Recently Incarcerated Find Purpose at DV8 Kitchen

    People want to look into the eye of someone they’re helping by eating there, and our staff wants to see people enjoying what they’ve made.

    Whatever our experience with life is, was, or will be, there’s one thing we all have in common: food. It’s one of the things we need to survive, along with the social support and shelter we need to thrive. These things come together in a powerful way at a dine-in bakery in Kentucky called DV8 kitchen, where Rob Perez and his wife oversee a staff comprised entirely of people in recovery, many of whom are coming out of incarceration and looking for a second chance. After getting sober at 25, Perez, already a career hospitality veteran at a young age, decided to open a fourth restaurant located within walking distance from three different transitional living facilities. They serve homemade bread and southern breakfast-style foods, and, most importantly, employees and customers are always interacting with one another. We spoke to Perez about the employees he’s lost to addiction in the past, the ways in which the bakery is impacting the community, and that time NFL Quarterback Chad stopped by to teach a workshop on leadership and teamwork.

    The Fix: Would you say there is a stronger chance of sobriety if you set your employees up with a job in a sober environment?

    Rob Perez: When you do a job with quality, you build self respect, self-esteem and pride in a craft you’re developing. In recovery, we need a support system and an accountability system. And the camaraderie you get out of a job when you have common interests, backgrounds and circumstances, is pretty powerful. We’ve had a few employees tell us that it’s nice not to feel bad about turning down invites from coworkers to grab a drink after work, or even feeling pressured to do so. Our staff don’t leave programs or meetings or houses and come to a foreign environment 40 hours a week, they come to a place where we all speak the same language, have the same customs, and discussions, so its a 24/7 program.

    Are there any logistical benefits to the way it’s set up?

    From a practical standpoint, even if people have insurance, most of the time, a recovery center’s money runs out after 30 days, and people have to start to contribute to the house they’re living in. So if businesses don’t take a chance on someone who has a difficult schedule to work around and a past to have to deal with, these folks can’t get through the program they’re in, and, generally, outpatient programs are a minimum of six months to one-year. Also, many of our employees have mentioned how nice it is to work with others who truly understand what they’re going through.

    Have the people you work with at the sober living houses given you any feedback about your impact?

    They think it’s working well as there’s a lot of accountability on the residents (our employees) to stay on track with the program. They really need to follow their program while they’re at work or they will be asked to leave the program altogether. In that way, we work in tandem with the sober living houses to ensure the employee is meeting their goals and staying on a good path.

    What do your employees do about housing when their stay nearby is up?

    The houses we work with have separate sober living environments our employees can go to after their initial first year of treatment. If they’re interested, we can also connect them with community services that will help them find housing.

    Why do you think there is still so much hesitancy to give people a second chance?

    When you say you’re a second chance employer you run a risk of people thinking ‘second chance’ means ‘second rate.’ They don’t want to spend money on second rate. What we’ve been taught in society is to be hesitant in employing convicted offenders and recovering addicts. Through DV8, we hope to show them success and really convince them that it doesn’t hurt to offer addicts or those who were previously incarcerated a second chance. Though we’ve only been open for about nine months, I’ve noticed that a handful of our employees have directly reached out to government officials to discuss the importance of offering second chance employment opportunities.

    Did people know your triple-bottom line when you first opened?

    In our first two weeks, people felt insecure about coming to a place that had many people in recovery in it, but we also didn’t formally announce it. Without us saying it, they knew people had incarceration in their past. But once I started to contact the media and talk about our mission and the people, it all changed. People want to know that they’re making an impact, and that’s why the glass wall we have between our cooks and service people and the customers is so important. People want to look into the eye of someone they’re helping by eating there, and our staff wants to see people enjoying what they’ve made. Ultimately, though, we want them to be unidentifiable from anyone else. The way they stand up straight, the enthusiasm, their confidence, we can see that they’re changing the way the public thinks about recovery and addiction.

    Tell me about your personal connection to the mission.

    Addiction found me and has crossed the paths of 13 other people in our other for-profit restaurants and, now, they’re gone. It affected the best server we ever had, it affects my city, and it affected me. I was a binge drinker. I didn’t have to drink everyday but when I did, I would frequently get out of control. I was always the last to leave a party, and the deeper I got, the more blackouts I had, taking risks with driving and getting out of embarrassing situations I had to reconstruct the next day. I was not as attentive of a husband as i should have been. I wasn’t being a good person.

    Rob and his wife, Diane. Image via DV8 Kitchen.

    When did you decide to get help?

    I had a blackout, went back to my workplace (then, it was the Hard Rock Cafe, on the corporate side) and made a fool of myself. I got suspended from work and had to tell my wife I couldn’t be paid for two weeks and I said I needed help. Diane’s an angel. She loved me through it and kept me honest and kicked my ass if she needed to.

    It also helps when pro-athletes come teach you a workshop.

    We’ve had a bank executive come to talk to employees about personal finance, a yoga instructor to talk about mindfulness, and, yes, NFL quarterback Chad Pennington came in to talk about teamwork. During his workshop, he discussed his journey to the NFL and why both teamwork and leadership were important. He also shared more personal stories about how his Christian values have helped him through his career and life journey in general. But, all kinds of people in the community are signing up three months in advance to lead these workshops. They really want to help.

    What do you think it is about the food industry that makes it such a popular ‘second-chance’ job?

    My gut is it has to do with working really hard physically, it’s mental as well. You learn to get along with people, form long-lasting relationships, make mistakes without fear and be able to say sorry. Then you get to serve your food and get instant feedback. In recovery, we need to know what our results are. I think we thrive in an environment where we “know right away.” If someone likes it, or what you do, it’s good to know it. There’s something spiritual about a dinner table, too, and having a meal with someone. Food, dining, and breaking bread is special and is innate to our happiness.

    Image via DV8 Kitchen.

    View the original article at thefix.com