by Todd Buchannan, Certified WRAP ALF, from Ontario, Canada
I had never really thought about my life as a measure of wellness. As a measure of recovery. I just knew that the last time I had used a substance was August 8, 2006, and I never thought about anything after that.
There is a sense that you know where you are going and where you are, that all the tires are on the road. Everything is tranquil. Beautiful horizon. Then someone throws a chocolate soft-serve ice cream on your windshield. Panic. Furious windshield wiper action. You hit a pothole, flattening the tire instantly. You manage to get to the shoulder of the road; your mind is splintering glass, fracturing in every direction.
The metaphors are truth. Because I was sober, I thought I knew where I was in my life. Then something triggered an emotional response that I was not ready for or aware of. It took me back to that place where it all began, where the future of my substance abuse was born.
My introduction to WRAP, over a decade ago, made me look at my life. I had to ask myself some very difficult questions. The journey was introspective. Bordered on existential.
The first time I had to describe Hope, in the context of WRAP, I explained that, in retrospect, the absence of Hope gave me Hope. That flowed into Personal Responsibility, which flowed into Education, Self-Advocacy, and Support.
Of course, I was reflecting. I was taking these concepts and having light bulbs go off for each of them. That was what WRAP became for me. A string of light bulbs.
Sometimes, a bulb starts to flash—Early Warning Sign; then four or five start flashing—Things are Breaking Down or Getting Worse. Then one bulb goes completely dark and the whole string stops working; today, that is my visualization of a Crisis. Someone needs to get the ladder; someone needs to unscrew the bulbs and check the plug—it is systematic.
I use WRAP in my life. I look at WRAP and see it as a massive set of tools. In that set of tools, is everything that I need to do a job, and the job is maintaining my mental health and addiction to the standard that I have set. I know what tools work for specific parts of the job.
My days of trying to use a screwdriver as a hammer are over . . . mostly.
