ISLAND VOICES
The face of recovery few see

By Bruce Berger

When I tell someone why I get up at 4:18 every morning and what I do and with whom I work, people tend to groan or wince. "Wow, that's tough work," might be an average comment.

The average person and even some professionals who haven't worked with addicted people often fall victim to the stereotype. In fact, a research study found that the average person perceives a person with a heroin problem as a homeless, disheveled middle-aged man with little hope. And while there are heroin addicts who fit this description, it is not the face of those who have "made it" in their triumph over heroin and opiates.

While I counsel a 20-year-old male who has committed to recovery, the air is full of attitude — the healthy kind — as he demonstrates an impressive display of recovery in explaining where he has been and where he is going with his new, sober life. This young man looks back on the days when he was "sick and sitting in the stinky stairwell." Such an image brings up a visual picture of the sadness commonly associated with the users of heroin.

The media have helped us draw these pictures of horror through such films as "Traffic" or through the daily newspaper accounts of catastrophic injury sustained by children of addicts. There is no shortage of stories of how drug addiction has destroyed lives and relationships and has resulted in incarceration or death.

Ask a social worker at Child Protective Services or spend a day at Family Court on Punchbowl Street. Look at the faces of parents who can't stop using drugs and are on the fast track to losing custody of their children.

Ask a physician who works with heroin users, and he will tell you of individuals who have died even after they stopped using drugs and found sobriety. Their lives have been cut short from the chronic medical problems that result from years of drug abuse.

These are the faces of addiction the public has been fed and has learned to believe is the "only" reality for drug addicts.

But there are other faces: the faces of rebirth, renewal and revolution that I often see at 5:30 or 6 a.m. These are the faces that others don't know about; they are your neighbors, family members and co-workers. They lead their lives in a quiet revolution, without media acknowledgement or community recognition. These are the people whom probation officers might have worked with years ago, but don't know what they are doing today.

These are the mothers and fathers who are loving their children, grandchildren and hanai children, sometimes without the rewards of funding or medical insurance due to legal obstacles.

These are the felons who have served years behind bars and are dedicated to not returning, rather choosing to lead a productive and happy life. These are the successful self-employed guys next door whom a neighbor once hooked on heroin by paying them in drugs for construction work.

These are the fantastic musicians, business mangers, brilliant artists, intelligent graduate students, successful business owners and thriving blue-collar workers who have reached recovery — and no one knows their story. There are no stories about them because they lead their lives quietly, productively and happily. They don't want the attention and they don't need it.

But surely, they should receive recognition for the success of their achievement against a disease that takes lives daily.

We need new images of recovery so we can keep addiction in perspective. We need to know that these individuals are our shining example of what recovery looks like and that it is possible to turn one's life around.

We need to listen to these voices and learn, no matter how real the "stinkin' in the stairwell" image can be; it is not the image I have come to see in the faces of recovery.

Let us put a flower on the side of the face that represents recovery and remember there are many brave souls in our community who are heroic examples of what it is like to be able to turn one's life around.

I see the smile on their faces and feel the confidence exuding, having worked hard on a life that contributes to family, to community and, most of all, to oneself.

You know, I almost can smell the flowers. How about you?

Bruce Berger is a court-qualified addiction expert in private practice and a certified substance-abuse counselor.