Throughout the course of my recovery, ever since it began on December 18, 2022, I have learned that, to me, recovery means connection.  Because of addiction, I didn't know myself at all, and I consistently abandoned the values that I once had. Prior to my use, I was a passionate advocate, writer, and student. Once I became addicted to substances, all that passion was diverted to my next high. I had nothing left to give to the things that actually mattered to me.  I've found that connection in all its forms has been the most valuable part of my recovery. After all, what good does it do to be told "you are not alone" if we do not use this sentiment to seek connection?  I began talking to other people in recovery about our experiences. I started to write again, and even sought out involvement in advocacy work. I got a new job in peer recovery, where I can share my story with others, and I'm going back to school in the fall.  Now, there's nothing keeping those connections at bay. I can be my true, vulnerable self. There is no hiding, which is scary, but it means that I live authentically now. For this change, I am forever grateful; the feeling created by a true connection with someone is unparalleled. I look forward to building relationships with others by sharing my story and hearing theirs, too.

"The opposite of addiction is connection." These are the words of writer Johann Hari's Ted Talk, "Everything you know about addiction is wrong." When I heard this message, I was a few weeks into rehab, surrounded by other people struggling with the same thing as me: substance use. As humans, we are wired to crave the avoidance of pain. I grew up in a single-parent household, becoming a caretaker for my younger sister early on. I spent most of my childhood watching television, reading books, and escaping my home life through school. None of these things were enough to keep away the sadness and anxiety I often felt, and I began using substances as a distraction from my reality. For a while, it worked: it kept my emotions at arm's length. I didn't know myself, and I wasn't connected to who I was. Gradually, the things I cared about began to slip away and I had to withdraw from my college classes. It was at this moment that I saw my reality for what it was: I was the loneliest I'd ever been. I worked up the courage to ask for help, and this catapulted me into recovery. I went to treatment and began rebuilding my life without substances. Things did not get better right away. Every single feeling I had over the last few years seemed to flood me all at once, and I had no self-regulation skills. Throughout my time in treatment, the most healing part was the company of others. We are constantly being told "you are not alone," but I find that this phrase rings meaningless unless we use it as a catalyst for connection, rather than a simple fact. In the pursuit of connection, I put myself out there. I started talking to people, I shared myself with others, and I found it: in each interaction I had, I felt a spark. Now, these sparks are what I work to cultivate. I am honest about who I am, my struggles, and how I have worked through them. I realize now that substances served as a barrier in my life. They kept my feelings at bay along with my interactions with others. I didn't feel my feelings, and I couldn't get close to anyone because they weren't seeing who I was at my core. I have begun allowing myself the freedom to feel. No matter how trivial something may seem, if it makes me upset, then I give myself the opportunity to feel that pain. Similarly, I relish in the little moments that bring me joy. Expressing myself has become top priority, and writing has helped me with this. I do all that I can to seek a sense of connection with others and the world around me. Because of this, the feeling of loneliness I used to shoulder has been lifted. I see now that Johann Hari's words ring true: the opposite of addiction is, in fact, connection, and I am living proof. Going forward, I intend to continue building connections with others. After I receive my Bachelor's degree, I plan on getting a Master's degree in Social Work with a focus on substance use. Down the line, I plan on getting a Doctorate, and conducting research about substance use. For a while, I stopped having big dreams for myself. Now, I can't stop myself from thinking big. None of this would be possible without having sought connection, and for that I am grateful for the message I first heard at only a few weeks into my recovery.