Tag: Narcotics Anonymous

  • The Hidden Deaths Of The COVID Pandemic

    A recent analysis predicted as many as 75,000 people might die from suicide, overdose or alcohol abuse, triggered by the uncertainty and unemployment caused by the pandemic.

    BROOMFIELD, Colo. — Sara Wittner had seemingly gotten her life back under control. After a December relapse in her battle with drug addiction, the 32-year-old completed a 30-day detox program and started taking a monthly injection to block her cravings for opioids. She was engaged to be married, working for a local health association and counseling others about drug addiction.

    Then the COVID-19 pandemic hit.

    The virus knocked down all the supports she had carefully built around her: no more in-person Narcotics Anonymous meetings, no talks over coffee with a trusted friend or her addiction recovery sponsor. As the virus stressed hospitals and clinics, her appointment to get the next monthly shot of medication was moved back from 30 days to 45 days.

    As best her family could reconstruct from the messages on her phone, Wittner started using again on April 12, Easter Sunday, more than a week after her originally scheduled appointment, when she should have gotten her next injection. She couldn’t stave off the cravings any longer as she waited for her appointment that coming Friday. She used again that Tuesday and Wednesday.

    “We kind of know her thought process was that ‘I can make it. I’ll go get my shot tomorrow,’” said her father, Leon Wittner. “‘I’ve just got to get through this one more day and then I’ll be OK.’”

    But on Thursday morning, the day before her appointment, her sister Grace Sekera found her curled up in bed at her parents’ home in this Denver suburb, blood pooling on the right side of her body, foam on her lips, still clutching a syringe. Her father suspects she died of a fentanyl overdose.

    However, he said, what really killed her was the coronavirus.

    “Anybody that is struggling with a substance abuse disorder, anybody that has an alcohol issue and anybody with mental health issues, all of a sudden, whatever safety nets they had for the most part are gone,” he said. “And those are people that are living right on the edge of that razor.”

    Sara Wittner’s death is just one example of how complicated it is to track the full impact of the coronavirus pandemic — and even what should be counted. Some people who get COVID-19 die of COVID-19. Some people who have COVID die of something else. And then there are people who die because of disruptions created by the pandemic.

    While public health officials are trying to gather data on how many people test positive for the coronavirus and how many people die from the infection, the pandemic has left an untold number dying in the shadows, not directly because of the virus but still because of it. They are unaccounted for in the official tally, which, as of June 21, has topped 119,000 in the U.S.

    But the lack of immediate clarity on the numbers of people actually dying from COVID-19 has some onlookers, ranging from conspiracy theorists on Twitter all the way to President Donald Trump, claiming the tallies are exaggerated — even before they include deaths like Wittner’s. That has undermined confidence in the accuracy of the death toll and made it harder for public health officials to implement infection prevention measures.

    Yet experts are certain that a lack of widespread testing, variations in how the cause of death is recorded, and the economic and social disruption the virus has caused are hiding the full extent of its death toll.

    How To Count

    In the U.S., COVID-19 is a “notifiable disease” — doctors, coroners, hospitals and nursing homes must report when encountering someone who tests positive for the infection, and when a person who is known to have the virus dies. That provides a nearly real-time surveillance system for health officials to gauge where and to what extent outbreaks are happening. But it’s a system designed for speed over accuracy; it will invariably include deaths not caused by the virus as well as miss deaths that were.

    For example, a person diagnosed with COVID-19 who dies in a car accident could be included in the data. But someone who dies of COVID-19 at home might be missed if they were never tested. Nonetheless, the numbers are close enough to serve as an early-warning system.

    “They’re really meant to be simple,” Colorado state epidemiologist Dr. Rachel Herlihy said. “They apply these black-and-white criteria to often gray situations. But they are a way for us to systematically collect this data in a simple and rapid fashion.”

    For that reason, she said, the numbers don’t always align with death certificate data, which takes much more time to review and classify. And even those can be subjective. Death certificates are usually completed by a doctor who was treating that person at the time of death or by medical examiners or coroners when patients die outside of a health care facility. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention guidelines allow for doctors to attribute a death to a “presumed” or “probable” COVID infection in the absence of a positive test if the patient’s symptoms or circumstances warrant it. Those completing the forms apply their individual medical judgment, though, which can lead to variations from state to state or even county to county in whether a death is attributed to COVID-19.

    Furthermore, it can take weeks, if not months, for the death certificate data to move up the ladder from county to state to federal agencies, with reviews for accuracy at each level, creating a lag in those more official numbers. And they may still miss many COVID-19 deaths of people who were never tested.

    That’s why the two methods of counting deaths can yield different tallies, leading some to conclude that officials are fouling up the numbers. And neither approach would capture the number of people who died because they didn’t seek care — and certainly will miss indirect deaths like Wittner’s where care was disrupted by the pandemic.

    “All those things, unfortunately, are not going to be determined by the death record,” says Oscar Alleyne, chief of programs and services for the National Association of City and County Health Officials.

    Using Historical Data To Understand Today’s Toll

    That’s why researchers track what are known as “excess” deaths. The public health system has been cataloging all deaths on a county-by-county basis for more than a century, providing a good sense of how many deaths can be expected every year. The number of deaths above that baseline in 2020 could tell the extent of the pandemic.

    For example, from March 11 to May 2, New York City recorded 32,107 deaths. Laboratories confirmed 13,831 of those were COVID-19 deaths and doctors categorized another 5,048 of them as probable COVID-19 cases. That’s far more deaths than what historically occurred in the city. From 2014 through 2019, the city averaged just 7,935 deaths during that time of year. Yet when taking into account the historical deaths to assume what might occur normally, plus the COVID cases, that still leaves 5,293 deaths not explained in this year’s death toll. Experts believe that most of those deaths could be either directly or indirectly caused by the pandemic.

    City health officials reported about 200 at-home deaths per day during the height of the pandemic, compared with a daily average 35 between 2013 and 2017. Again, experts believe that excess is presumably caused either directly or indirectly by the pandemic.

    And nationally, a recent analysis of obituaries by the Health Care Cost Institute found that, for April, the number of deaths in the U.S. was running about 12% higher than the average from 2014 through 2019.

    “The excess mortality tells the story,” said Dr. Jeremy Faust, an emergency medicine physician at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. “We can see that COVID is having a historic effect on the number of deaths in our community.”

    These multiple approaches, however, have many skeptics crying foul, accusing health officials of cooking the books to make the pandemic seem worse than it is. In Montana, for example, a Flathead County health board member cast doubt over official COVID-19 death tolls, and Fox News pundit Tucker Carlson questioned the death rate during an April broadcast. That has sowed seeds of doubt. Some social media posts claim that a family member or friend died at home of a heart attack but that the cause of death was inaccurately listed as COVID-19, leading some to question the need for lockdowns or other precautions.

    “For every one of those cases that might be as that person said, there must be dozens of cases where the death was caused by coronavirus and the person wouldn’t have died of that heart attack — or wouldn’t have died until years later,” Faust said. “At the moment, those anecdotes are the exceptions, not the rule.”

    At the same time, the excess deaths tally would also capture cases like Wittner’s, where the usual access to health care was disrupted.

    A recent analysis from Well Being Trust, a national public health foundation, predicted as many as 75,000 people might die from suicide, overdose or alcohol abuse, triggered by the uncertainty and unemployment caused by the pandemic.

    “People lose their jobs and they lose their sense of purpose and become despondent, and you sometimes see them lose their lives,” said Benjamin Miller, Well Being’s chief strategy officer, citing a 2017 study that found that for every percentage point increase in unemployment, opioid overdose deaths increased 3.6%.

    Meanwhile, hospitals across the nation have seen a drop-off in non-COVID patients, including those with symptoms of heart attacks or strokes, suggesting many people aren’t seeking care for life-threatening conditions and may be dying at home. Denver cardiologist Dr. Payal Kohli calls that phenomenon “coronaphobia.”

    Kohli expects a new wave of deaths over the next year from all the chronic illnesses that aren’t being treated during the pandemic.

    “You’re not necessarily going to see the direct effect of poor diabetes management now, but when you start having kidney dysfunction and other problems in 12 to 18 months, that’s the direct result of the pandemic,” Kohli said. “As we’re flattening the curve of the pandemic, we’re actually steepening all these other curves.”

    Lessons From Hurricane Maria’s Shifting Death Toll

    That’s what happened when Hurricane Maria pummeled Puerto Rico in 2017, disrupting normal life and undermining the island’s health system. Initially, the death toll from the storm was set at 64 people. But more than a year later, the official toll was updated to 2,975, based on an analysis from George Washington University that factored in the indirect deaths caused by the storm’s disruptions. Even so, a Harvard study calculated the excess deaths caused by the hurricane were likely far higher, topping 4,600.

    The numbers became a political hot potato, as critics blasted the Trump administration over its response to the hurricane. That prompted the Federal Emergency Management Agency to ask the National Academy of Sciences to study how best to calculate the full death toll from a natural disaster. That report is due in July, and those who wrote it are now considering how their recommendations apply to the current pandemic — and how to avoid the same politicization that befell the Hurricane Maria death toll.

    “You have some stakeholders who want to downplay things and make it sound like we’ve had a wonderful response, it all worked beautifully,” said Dr. Matthew Wynia, director of the University of Colorado Center for Bioethics and Humanities and a member of the study committee. “And you’ve got others who say, ‘No, no, no. Look at all the people who were harmed.’”

    Calculations for the ongoing pandemic will be even more complicated than for a point-in-time event like a hurricane or wildfire. The indirect impact of COVID-19 might last for months, if not years, after the virus stops spreading and the economy improves.

    But Wittner’s family knows they already want her death to be counted.

    Throughout her high school years, Sekera dreaded entering the house before her parents came home for fear of finding her sister dead. When the pandemic forced them all indoors together, that fear turned to reality.

    “No little sister should have to go through that. No parent should have to go through that,” she said. “There should be ample resources, especially at a time like this when they’re cut off from the world.”

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Enabling, Self-Seeking, and Recovery

    Enabling, Self-Seeking, and Recovery

    Every moment there’s the possibility of falling back into self-seeking after having recovered much of our spiritual, financial, and physical health.

    Recently, I was accused on a community website of being an enabler. The article and discussions that followed were regarding a proposed affordable housing project in our community and how some members of the local city council were concerned that if fed and housed, the persons in poverty would become dependent. After I participated in a recent homelessness count that provided the government and other organizations with information on the population of homeless people, I felt I was informed enough about the topic to comment on my recent experiences. I wondered about the label someone attached to me and how valid it was. The question I ask myself is, “how do I know if I’m an enabler?”

    As an addict, I am going through a set of steps with a sponsor, which is a big part of the success of the 12-step program. Currently I’m on step 6, which states: “We were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.” It seemed an appropriate time to look at this behavior—and to find out if in fact it is a “defect of character.” What is an enabler?

    en·a·bler (From Wikipedia)

    noun

    1. a person or thing that makes something possible.

    “the people who run these workshops are crime enablers”

    1. a person who encourages or enables negative or self-destructive behavior in another.

    “he criticized her role as an enabler in her husband’s pathological womanizing”

    I liked “A person that makes something possible,” but then the definition erodes into some negative rhetoric. Could I be attaching my own definitions to justify my behaviors? I also wondered about alternatives to enabling.

    What is the opposite of enabler? From Word Hippo:

    Noun antonyms include: deterrent, hindrance, impediment, inhibitor, preventer, and prohibitor.

    I don’t particularly like those words either. It almost seems like a lose/lose scenario. I can attempt to clarify both sides of an argument and chose to either “make something possible” or be a “preventer” of a possible catastrophe. These implied absolutes can place people on opposite sides of the fence of their own making and create polarity and strife. 

    Before I started down the path of recovery, choices were a lot easier. I was just concerned with myself—because at its core, addiction is about being self-obsessed. If something benefited me, made me feel better or allowed me to avoid uncomfortable feelings or just looked fun, I could justify the choices and my actions.

    Today, through the recovery process, I choose a new way of living:

    I invite a higher power into my life and my decisions. It is a manner of living that involves more than my own self-seeking ways. I know some people do not agree with terms like “God” or “Higher Power” or even the concept of a spiritual existence. I struggled with the concept too when I first started in recovery. At some point, those who live a life based on the principles learned in 12-step recovery must decide what concept is working for them today. The idea is that a higher power, whether it is “God” or my support group, it is a greater power than myself. As the saying goes, “it was my best thinking that got me here.”

    I try not to complicate things too much these days, but difficult choices are inevitable. The fact that I have difficult choices to make is a choice…but that train of thought gives me a headache and might be overthinking things – another seemingly common trait among addicts. I often wonder if life would be easier if I was less concerned about those around me and more concerned about myself- as that is also a common trait among those in active addiction. After all, addicts without recovery really only think about themselves and how to satisfy their compulsion to use.

    It makes sense that the early successes of living free from active addiction re-opens the door to self-seeking behaviors. Every moment there’s the possibility of falling back into self-seeking after having recovered much of our spiritual, financial, and physical health. In fact, all those healthy options are affected by the choices we make and are part of what molds us into who we are and what the fellowship of recovering addicts around us looks like. The literature in Narcotics Anonymous even warns about the dangers of self-seeking, but some people fall back into that habit:

    “…However, many will become the role models for the newcomers. The self‐seekers soon find that they are on the outside, causing dissension and eventually disaster for themselves. Many of them change; they learn that we can only be governed by a loving God as expressed in our group conscience.” 

    In Alcoholics Anonymous, they have The Promises: “Self-seeking will slip away.” 

    If you are no longer self-seeking, then the choice of what, if anything, to seek becomes apparent. I remember very clearly in early recovery when my wife suffered a life-threatening incident. After an invasive surgery to correct a serious defect in her foot and ankle bone structures, she developed a blood clot. A piece broke off and went through her heart and damaged her left lung. She was in the hospital for quite some time as they dissolved the clot with drugs and dealt with the damage to her body.

    I tried to balance work, looking after our two small daughters, recovery meetings, and support for my wife. I thought often of praying to this new “God” I was developing a relationship with. I questioned what I should pray for. Save my wife’s life? There are many people who deserve to live but their lives end. A prayer came to mind: “Please don’t leave me a single father who is barely capable of looking after himself.” This seemed to be a desire for my own selfish needs. In the end I prayed for knowledge that I should be at the right places, doing the right things, and to find the strength for myself and others, including for my wife, regardless of what happens. Also, “Please don’t leave me alone” – and I wasn’t. Friends stepped up and many offered support. 

    In time, my wife recovered. The point to this story and how it relates to enabling is that at no time did anyone criticize the choices I made. People did what they could to support me and let me live with the consequences of my choices. 

    Mother Theresa dedicated her life to easing the suffering of the poor and destitute in India. Did she spend her entire life simply enabling people, with little or nothing to show for her work? Possibly she could have become a motivational speaker and had a far greater effect by inspiring those same people to change their lives. Not that my actions are comparable to Mother Theresa, but the choice I make today is that rather than accomplishing 100 tasks to benefit myself, I would rather accomplish 100 tasks to benefit others, even if a few lives are changed as a result. Even if only a single life is affected, or no lives at all, I would still rather spend the time for the benefit of others. In early recovery it was explained to me that I needed to separate my “needies from my greedies.” What I do after my needs are met is the basis of my recovery. Recovery from addiction and the 12 steps are based on a single premise- which is explained in the 12th step:

    “Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to addicts, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.”

    I don’t always have answers to life’s questions. I might not be doing the right things at the right moment. I always try to be grateful for the life I lead. Gratitude isn’t a feeling, it’s a virtue. Gratitude is a manner of living that expresses our love for what we have by sharing and not hoarding. Sharing is best when it’s unconditional, as is love, and if that looks like enabling, well, I guess I’m okay with that.

    In the end what I share is freely given and my needs are met. I’m not looking for platitudes, but an appreciative “thank you” is always welcome since that can be your gratitude. What you receive and what effect that has is all on you. You choose how to apply the help someone gives you. I can be free of the burden of expectation or false hope. In the end did I enable you? That’s not for me to judge, is it?

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • My Journey from AA to NA, with Stops Along the Way

    My Journey from AA to NA, with Stops Along the Way

    While making my own transition from one fellowship to another, I interviewed people with experience in both AA and NA to find out what’s working for them, and what’s not.

    For a long time, I considered myself an alcoholic with drug addict tendencies. This is why, for the most part, I was a member of AA exclusively for the first six years of my sobriety. Besides, where I lived in Connecticut at the time, Narcotics Anonymous meetings were too far and few in between – as is often the case in more rural areas of the country.

    Also, while in AA I’d heard things about that other fellowship.

    Yes, I was fine right where I was, thank you very much. Like my mother and my uncles and my grandfather before me, AA would remain my easier, softer way til death do us part.

    And then I relapsed: a year and a half bender in which my disease had progressed to include cocaine and prescription pills and after which I was detoxing from alcohol and benzos.

    That’s when the rooms of recovery turned strangely uncomfortable.

    I can’t say it was because I was no longer welcome. No, my mutual friends of Bill were there with open arms when I came back from the relapse… As long as I didn’t share openly about the drug problem.

    “I came to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting,” an old-timer quickly informed me, “because this is where I come to hear about alcohol – not pills!”

    This got me to thinking. (Not about the chapter in AA’s Big Book entitled Acceptance Was the Answer in which an alcoholic physician describes in painstaking detail his struggles with prescription pills. No, why would I think of that? The old-timer certainly wasn’t.) 

    No, I was thinking I ought to give Narcotics Anonymous a try for a while. Not only would I be able to share more candidly about my relapse but I’d have some time to work through the little resentment I’d suddenly copped against AA and its old timers.

    So, I began asking around. I knew the best way to transition between fellowships was to look to the rooms themselves for advice and guidance. I found four people in recovery, each of them knowledgeable about both AA and NA, who were willing to share their experience not only with me – but with you as well.

    About the Personalities:

    “I had been in AA for 11 years and just kept relapsing,” recalled Christy, 45, from the San Francisco Bay Area. Hers was a vicious cycle of diet pills and wine, always using one to offset the other. “I was sure that people were sick of hearing me talk about how I just couldn’t get it. Well I was sick of talking about it, anyway, at least to the same people again and again. It was embarrassing.”

     Taking the advice of her husband – a former amphetamine addict of 15 years – Christy decided to give NA a try.

    The kinship she felt was immediate, not only because she felt able to share more freely in a room full of new faces, but also because “NA’s a little bit ‘roughie-toughie’ and I liked that. NA had more people with missing teeth,” she joked. “There were so many people just totally out of their minds – exactly like me – and everyone seemed ok with it.”

    Three years later, Christy’s bond with NA is stronger than ever.

    “I find myself spiritually connected to that craziness,” she said. “There’s stories of abuse, there’s sharing about the prison time. It helps keep my recovery feel fresh. NA reminds me of how bad it can get out there.”

    For Johnny L., 39, from New England, the NA group in his area had a more adverse effect.

    “Well there I was, a newly clean and sober gay white man in a heavily black, heterosexual, inner city NA meeting,” he laughed. “I really gave it a shot, too, but after about three or four meetings I still wasn’t relating at all.”

    Thankfully Johnny found himself having to move for work to a more rural area within that first year of recovery and along with the change of geography came a new atmosphere within his meetings. Though he considered himself dually addicted (meth and drinking), Johnny ultimately settled into the rooms of AA, finding the comfort of a home group he’s still part of to this day.

    Back in California, Trey S., a 22-year-old addict, compared the members of fellowships like this: “NA is definitely more of a mixed crowd. There’s a lot of diversity, incorporating more experiences with much heavier drugs, and I think there could be stronger personalities in the rooms because of that. This means a lot more opportunities for conflict.”

    As is so often the case with young people with substance use disorders, Trey was introduced to Alcoholics Anonymous through a rehabilitation center at the age of 16. He eventually gravitated towards NA, identifying more strongly with those rooms, particularly young people’s meetings.

    “At the time AA felt more rigorous and less free-flowing. And I think in general NA attracts a younger recovery crowd, which makes sense because of the pill problem these days. I mean, I was on Adderall at 5 years old and I think that’s fairly common for my generation.”

    As for the old-timers, like Red from the West Coast who has been a member of AA for over three decades, it’s often their job to remind us of that tried-and-true adage, principles before personalities, regardless of the fellowship.

    “Whether it’s AA or NA, as long as you’re living your life according to a program of spiritual principles you’ll do okay,” he told me. “It doesn’t matter what gets you into the rooms, but what you do with yourself once you get here.”

    About the Literature

    Of course, changing recovery programs also means a change in the accompanying literature. After six years of study groups, sponsor assignments, and constant references to the Big Book, I had developed a deep appreciation for AA’s “bible” and was hesitant about NA’s basic text as well as the rest of the program’s literary canon. 

    “So many people claim that all the answers are in the Big Book,” said Christy. “But Living Clean – it seems like every time I pick it up, whatever I read feels like it was written just for me.”

    Living Clean is NA’s version of AA’s book, Living Sober, and both address the nitty gritty of living in recovery. Like instruction manuals for the soul and mind of an addict, both publications offer insights on topics such as relationships, aging, failure, and isolation.

    I quickly learned that my AA books had NA counterparts that were just as valuable and respected. 

    According to Trey, “Even though AA’s literature has more program history, it has more character. It actually feels more playful to me – while NA’s stuff strikes me as much more serious.”

    But when Trey does his step work, he combines the books of both fellowships, studying all the information each program has to offer. “They each bring their own material to the table and all of it is important.”

    “But the NA basic text is so much more international,” Johnny told me. “It feels all-inclusive. Through it I get an idea of what it’s like to be an addict in Iran, in Africa, all around the world. It makes the Big Book feel very old. Like an older language.”

    When it comes to step work, Johnny also works with the writings of both fellowships, first reading what the Big Book and Twelve and Twelve lay out and then hitting the NA’s Step Working Guide afterwards.

    This workbook is the most significant difference in program offerings.

    “That thing makes you feel like you’re in a Master Class for sobriety,” Johnny claimed. “It challenges you to think things through more deeply.”

    Finding that the Guide has become such a big part of his recovery, Johnny has begun searching for a new AA sponsor who would be willing to integrate the book and its myriad of intensely provoking questions into his program; a sort of AA/NA fusion.

    Christy felt just as strongly about the Step Working Guide:

    “Going through it reminds me of the kind of effort I put into my recovery at the very beginning,” she said. “My self-awareness is much higher because of it. And I’m sure my recovery is evolving more strongly as well.”

    Like Johnny, Christy found that mixing and matching materials gave her a more balanced and satisfying program. In fact, while Christy’s primary fellowship was NA, she continued to go to one weekly AA meeting.

    As for Johnny, his six meetings a week were equally split between AA and NA (Crystal Meth Anonymous, more specifically).

    Trey was the purist of those I’d talked to, attending only NA meetings.

    At this point in the conversations, I felt ready to start altering my own meeting schedule. Thoroughly advised on what to expect, I was excited to head over to NA and start sharing from the heart again.

    But first I would have to learn how to talk.

    About the Language

    “We are presented with a dilemma; when NA members identify themselves as addicts and alcoholics or talk about living clean and sober, the clarity of the NA message is blurred.”

    From NA’s Clarity Statement, read out loud at a meeting’s start. The gist of the announcement, from what I could gather, was that I was to no longer call myself an alcoholic because: “Our identification as addicts is all-inclusive.”  

    And all I could think was, Here I go again.

    “I was stopped mid-sentence at an NA meeting when I tried talking about the Promises,” said Johnny, referring to AA’s 9th step list of spiritual and material rewards. “I was disappointed in that. It was embarrassing and awkward. I wound up never going back to that particular meeting.”

    Of course, censorship within the rooms goes both ways:

    “I once saw someone completely shut down in AA when he mentioned his struggle with crystal meth,” Trey told me. “The chairperson interrupted him, saying, ‘Sorry, we don’t talk about that here.’”

    That chairperson had been acting in accordance with the Singleness of Purpose, AA’s version of the Clarity Statement: “We ask that when discussing our problems, we confine ourselves to those problems as they relate to alcohol and alcoholism.” Remember the scolding I’d received from the old-timer when talking about the pills?

    “In my first year of sobriety I was going to all the A’s – AA, NA, CA (Cocaine Anonymous),” joked old-timer Red. “I found out real quick that I couldn’t say this or I couldn’t say that, depending on where I went. In NA I couldn’t claim I was an alcoholic, and vice versa in AA and on and on and on. I don’t know about you but in the beginning I just wanted to say what I needed to say in order to get better!”

    Trey agreed. “Sometimes you can feel negativity in the air when the Clarity Statement is read. I worry it stops people from speaking from the heart. I mean, as long as they’re sharing about appropriate behaviors and it’s coming from a loving and caring place, that’s great.”

    About Recovery

    As I compiled all my notes, the quotes and information, I was relieved to find an absence of what I’d feared most. Nowhere in my talks with these four fellow people in recovery did I find any negativity or slander from one fellowship against the other.

    “I’ve always been aware of the contention between AA and NA,” Johnny had told me, “but I’ve been lucky to stay out of it. The groups I go to are small and intimate and I don’t have to hide whatever I may be struggling with, alcohol or drugs. They’re very supportive regardless.”

    Christy agrees: “I can say that both AA and NA are responsible for saving my life and I gladly still participate in both.”

    With Trey, one of the things he’d always admired most about NA is how the program openly acknowledged its roots. “Right on the first page of the introduction of the basic text, Narcotics Anonymous expresses gratitude towards AA for‘showing us the way to a new life.’

    Yes, by the end of my inquiries it was clear that the fellowships of AA and NA can work together well, with a combined effort and goal of unity, service, and recovery.

    View the original article at thefix.com