Retreat To Advance

“I am worth my own time energy and attention……” Iyana Vansant

Today marks my 20th year of sobriety after decades of self-abasing behavior and cocaine addiction that turned my California dream into a nightmare. After committing numerous crimes associated with my drug use, California Institute For Women became my temporary home. It would become a life-changing experience. After prison, I knew to heal fully, I must return to Denver where the pain began. Returning, I recalled my technique playing basketball against teams in rural Colorado. The teams had no people of color, and our team thought we were superior. Well, let me tell you. Some of those corn-fed white girls had game. They taught me the value of mental toughness and working hard to achieve your final goal. I was a short, big behind point guard with little quickness. I learned to position myself between the basket and the sideline whenever someone on their team had the ball. My pigeon toes would turn inward, and I would back my butt into an opposing player and get low. Most times, I would steal the ball or disrupt the shot. Life sometimes takes positioning and mental awareness of winning and losing.

What comes into play is the discipline I learned playing sports. You may not win the game, but you certainly have a different perspective on your opponents and how you might next time achieve that goal. I am an eternal optimist. Rarely does something or someone get to the pessimist side of me. Oh, I have had doubts about stuff that affected my health care decisions but never doubted my survival. It all goes back to sports. My father taught me always to play to win the game. Even if you know, you are not the best. He taught me to give all I have to give even if I know I will not win. The lesson is this: Next time you play, you will have a strategic plan to attack your opponent better. I found it is okay to look back over your life. It is okay to be reflective if it is not harmful to your recovery. It took me a minute to realize in the darkness of active addiction, I also numbed the light to recover. Unresolved, the pains evolved into an invisible prison as confining as the real one. Consumed by chaos, there was only one answer...... My God. He gave me the strength and wisdom to return home. He encouraged me to leave my search for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. He told me my love affair with abusive people, places and situations would benefit me in recovery, and though it was part of my journey, it would be my survival that would shine through. And, it has.