The 12th Step Call: Finding the Light When Darkness Surrounds You

My first clean and sober relationship

A few years ago I got a call from my buddy in recovery, Aaron, asking if I had seen our mutual friend, we’ll call him Andy. Andy and I dated for 7 months when I first got into recovery. He got clean a few months before me and was living in the SLE (sober living environment) I lived in and when I first saw him I knew I needed to know him. He was 21 years older than me, and being a 23 year old with no idea how to stay sober I jumped at the chance to get to know him and feel some stability. He was handsome, played music, and we had our drug of choice in common, so I felt like he understood where I came from. He absolutely respected the fact that I was newly clean and didn’t make any advances on me, so I went out on a limb and told him I liked him. We eventually started dating and it was the first relationship where using was off the table. I was so afraid of meeting new people my age and starting new friendships in early recovery and so we got to be isolated, and we liked it that way. As time went on I started getting use to people in my recovery groups. Naturally, I made some new friends and started acting like I was in my early 20s. It was great, except my relationship with Andy started to fall apart because I wanted to go out, go to new meetings, try new things, and he liked his routine.

Andy and I managed to stay friends but we definitely weren’t inseparable any longer. He really only had a few friends so I tried to keep up a friendship and check in on him regularly. He lived with our friend Aaron, and Aaron had longstanding some clean time under his belt. I knew he would look after Andy and we drifted over time. We really drifted when I met the man who would eventually become my husband. Andy took that hard but even through that we remained friendly. Years fell off the calendar and we checked in here and there but it wasn’t often. When we connected it was like old times. I still loved him, the way you always hold a place for your past long term relationships.

Super 8

So I get this call from Aaron asking if I had seen or heard from his roommate, Andy. I immediately got worried because not only is it completely out of character for Andy to be missing, but if Aaron was asking me if I’d seen him, that meant he had been isolating pretty badly again. I hadn’t seen him in probably almost 18 months by that point and I promptly knew something was very wrong. Aaron and I rallied together and tried to remember some general information. Full name, DOB, mom’s phone number, any other friendships he may have. I filed a missing persons report and found a recent-ish pic from my wedding day of him as a guest. I emailed those to the police and called his mother and asked her if she knew anything. She was scared and saddened and said she had seen this behavior before. I had flashes of memories of him talking about his last big binge was his using was at its worst. I remembered him saying that the last time he was off the wagon that was was held up in a Super 8 motel basically trying to use to death. I knew this might end badly but I didn’t know what to do about it.

One of the Instagram accounts I used to follow was a company who’s job it is to clean up people’s worse days. When someone dies, commits suicide, murders someone, have an accident, this company is in charge of cleaning it up. Almost every time there was a suicide you would see these people’s miserable existence in the hours leading up to their final moments, often held up in a shitty motel room. I couldn’t sit still imagining this being Andy’s fate. I imagined him over and over in these surreal and depressed last hours trying to reach the unreachable high. And just a head’s up for those curious cats out there, if you go looking for this account be prepared. It’s difficult, and often violent subject matter to see.

As I sat, breastfeeding my 4 month old son, telling my mom my fears for Andy, she says, “Did you call the Super 8 Motel and see if he was there?”, I blink a few times. Could he really be there? Would they really connect me to his room if he was there? I Googled the local Super 8 motel and dialed. I was welcomed by a cheery sounding woman, and like it was the most normal moment in the world, I ask for her to connect me to Andy’s room. I am 100% expecting her to say there is no Andy, and even if there was, they can’t connect to guests rooms without a room number. But that’s not what she says. She says “Sure, have a nice night.” and like that I’m being transferred to his room. My stomach turns, will he answer?

"Hello?" he says.
I say, "Hi Andy,"
He responds, "Do you have my sandwich?" 
I reply after a long confused pause... "nope." 
And then he repeats my name, "N...I...K...I... Wait it this NIKI?" 
I respond, "yep!" 
He sighs and says, "Oh, you know I'm in a bad way then huh?" 
🙁 "yea..." I respond. 

I ask him if he think’s he needs a doctor. He corrects me and says a hospital is probably more appropriate after 5 days of no sleep or food and an array of substances. I arrange sitting for my son with my mother and call up Aaron. We meet at the motel and go in together. It’s thrashed and Andy’s thrashed. We help him to Aaron’s SUV and journey to the hospital. Before this, I had never been witness to a friends relapse. I immediately had visions of other people I had grown to love in recovery in this same situation.

Finding the Light

At some point, I had unconsciously made a decision to love addicts. People who could take their addiction to an extreme that was violent to their bodies and spirit and I knew Andy wouldn’t be the last friend I would see relapse. I had made a choice to love these people with all their flaws and exactly where they were in their journey. I chose to love people who had hit a bottom and desperately wanted to get well. Some would and some wouldn’t, and I had placed a bet on them to succeed. I had bet a piece of my heart that I would see them flourish and grow along side me until death do us part. I bet this way because I saw miracles happen in the rooms of recovery. If you’d have met some of these miracles, you would understand why that was a worthy bet.

The 12th Step Call is one we make when we are connected enough to help another struggling addict. We reach out without expectations for them to reach back, only praying for them to choose to help themselves. Sometimes these addicts just aren’t ready and it’s important to not blame ourselves. We can’t force someone to get well who isn’t ready but I know I choose to reach out to Andy and to other addicts just in case they become ready. Andy got into detox and cleaned up pretty fast. He moved about 90 minutes away and eventually got into a new SLE and got set up into the program again. I call him more often now and I think about how close he came to checking out of life rather than that shitty motel. I made this 12th Step Call because I really hoped I would be able to see him again and so I extended a loving and compassionate hand to my friend and he accepted. He made the choice to take the help. There was no forcing or threatening, only reaching out to someone in the dark and showing them it’s possible to get back to the light. And I pray he keeps reaching.

Have you ever reached out with a 12th Step Call? Even if you aren’t in the rooms of recovery, what is your experience reaching out to someone in desperate need?

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