And yet another shivering denizen succumbs to the cruel realm of king alcohol. I am so saddened to hear that country singer Mindy McCready has committed suicide. She was only 37 years old and leaves her 6 year and 9 month old sons without a mother. Just another example of how self centered we are when trapped in active addiction. I am so very, very grateful that today I am able to grasp the simplicity of the 12 Steps and just for today, I am free of that death sentence.

It took me a long time to get to where I am today. I first entered the doors of AA in 1994. It took many tries, and multiple treatment centers before I was broke down enough to be teachable. I used to be very suicidal, and made several legitimate attempts. Thank God, He had other plans for me. I try to describe the way I felt right before I made the decision to go to Tallgrass Recovery. I have never felt so blank. I felt completely utterly hopeless and helpless. Like I was in a black hole, yet the thought of suicide wasn’t even an option. I had tried that and failed, so I was pretty sure that was not my destiny. And I was very afraid of eternal damnation for taking that route. But I also did not believe I could ever get and stay sober. I had tried AA and treatment so many times. I felt completely out of options…..suicide was not an option, nor was recovery. I was at the jumping off point, but unable to move to even step off the ledge. And then I heard about Tallgrass Recovery. A fellow in the healthcare industry (I was an IV morphine addicted nurse and no one knew) had gone to Tallgrass two years prior, and been sober since. So despite my extreme doubts, I agreed to at least go to the campus and check it out. You see, I knew what I was missing. I could not get the spiritual connection. And I was completely bereft because I had absolutely no idea HOW to get that. I knew I was not going to get it in a traditional medical treatment module. I had tried that…..3 times inpatient and 1 time outpatient. But I was willing. And as soon as I got out of my car on campus, I could FEEL in my gut that something was different. A big golden retriever came bounding up to me and nuzzled my hand. The atmosphere was surreal. I knew that was where I needed to be. I immediately went back home and made the arrangements to become guest number 362 two days later.

That was almost three years ago. The journey has not been easy. It took time for me to let go of my crutches. You see, I was also bulimic and had been a daily binge/purger for 22 years. But I am extremely proud and extremely blessed to say….I have not purged since my stay at Tallgrass. The last time I purged was the day before I did my 5th step. I just couldn’t mistreat my body any more after taking that 5th Step. Eating disorders are not as black and white as drinking or using. But I have found a program of abstinence that works for me. My addictions made me a complete liar…..a living falsehood….and filled me with enormous guilt and shame. I stuffed that guilt and shame down with food, numbed it with drugs and alcohol, purged it into the toilet and then flushed it away. Only to repeat the cycle again and again because the dishonesty continued. Tallgrass helped me get honest with myself. And I know today, that as long as I am honest, I never have to binge/purge, drink or drug again. And the 12 steps give me the tools to maintain that honesty. You see even if I falter, I can immediately make amends, learn from my mistakes and move on. The simplicity that eluded me for so long, is clear to me today. Just for today. I do not know what tomorrow holds. It saddens me that people continue to die of addiction every day. It is so simple. Yet it is not easy. However, it is not for me to question God’s plan. I can only share my experience strength and hope. What it was like…..I was hopeless and suicidal; what happened……I became so hopeless and helpless that I was finally teachable and able to pick up the tools gifted to me; what it’s like now…..I maintain my tools and share them with others. And today, life is extraordinarily beautiful. Tonight when I lay down my head, I will again thank God for this sober/abstinent day. And I will pray for the alcoholic/addict who still suffers…..that they become hopeless, helpless and therefore teachable before they become dead.

Carrie N. Tallgrass alumnus #362

“Made a decision to turn our will and our life over to the care of God as we understood Him.”

What a task this turned out to be. To give my control over to something that I could not see, feel or touch seemed truly impossible. I felt I needed something tangible. I always believed, but never understood the difference between inner and outer reality. I think it actually took three years to actually grasp (in my terms) the concept of what step three meant (to me).

Making a decision was just that, “making a decision”. Until I became willing to take a fearless and thorough look at myself nothing changed. The process of step three has gradually become more clear; but don’t get me wrong it is still very blurry at times.

Step three tells me to get out of the driver seat and let God take the wheel, to do whatever is in front of me and leave the results up to God and most importantly, that I do not have to fix, carry or resolve the world’s problems. All I have to do is become the clay so God can mold me into what He needs me to be.

Acceptance of and surrender to this principle allows me harmony between my intentions and my actions.

Kristine

Recovery can be the greatest gift of a person’s life. It was in mine. I remember the feeling of being so helpless, hopeless and full of fear for such a long time leading up to coming into treatment the last time. I had no idea how a person lived a lifetime without drinking. I could not seem to manage not drinking for a couple hours, let alone days, weeks, months or years. It still continues to amaze me looking back on how it all transpired. In many ways I am blessed in my job, working at the place I first came to believe that MAYBE it was possible to make it a day not drinking. I have the opportunity to watch others come in, just as broken as I was. Grasping at the smallest thing, fighting to put their demons to bed and climb out of the pit of addiction. Possibly the hardest won fight of their lives. I get to hear from the alumni who call or come out to check in with us. The miracle of recovery working in their lives. 30, 60, 90 days clean and sober…families getting back together, gainfully employed, going to meetings…a desire to give away what was given to them. Then all of a sudden a shift…less meetings, less calls…life suddenly became very busy and very real. They call it a pink a cloud, the treatment high, that feeling of wonder and amazement that comes with staying sober…that eventually leaves. Then what happens? Some of us trudge through the ordinariness of our lives, staying plugged into our 12 step meetings, working with our sponsors. Learning to live a life in recovery. Some of us drink. Back on the circuit again. It is a painful place to be in. The knowing that you had a solution but for that moment in time that solution no longer rings true for them. I don’t hear from all of them, some just fall off. It happened this last week with a couple alumni and it will happen again. It always breaks my heart a little when I hear the news. I know the pain of relapse. I am reminded that I am just one drink away from a drunk. That everything that I have been given and worked for the past 5 years can disappear if I put my guard down. I pray that prayer I was taught early on…”God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.” For all of us…

Joan Swenson alumni #113

Recovery, one could say, is an ongoing attempt to find something that was lost. I will recover it. What is it? Is it the life that I should have had if this disease of Alcoholism wasn’t blocking off the mental capacity to not drink? Maybe? Who wouldn’t want to blame a disease on what or why life has turned out the way it has for the past forty-six or so years? Wait….is that the thought process’s in my head and/or the community gathering its forces to tell me that “HEY…you can drink today…its ok”! I have justified it! Maybe?
What does it mean to me to be in recovery? On a good day it is the best feeling (key word being “feeling”) in the world. I am full of gratitude, joy and happiness. Other days cannot be described by any proper adjectives that can be written in a blog. What it means to me to be in recovery is living life on life’s terms? Now that doesn’t mean that I let people walk all over me but it does mean that I have to face what is happening each day only after I have asked my Higher Power to guide me to his will.
People told me when I got sick and tired of being sick and tired I would do something about it or that my Higher Power would. Well after several attempts of controlled drinking that was controlling me it had to stop. The next step for this old gal was a coffin paid for by the state since I was flat broke and no one I knew anymore would bury me. Everyone was gone! Why? Maybe it was my drinking and the way that I was acting with the selfishness of me only in my mind.
The Doctors opinion states that they have seen many who have recovered. I want to be one of those my head screams at me. How can I do this? Well what I have learned today is that I must do what the BIG BLUE BOOK suggests that I do. Isn’t that a contradictory statement? The word must and suggest in one sentence. Words are fun to ponder sometimes. Let me clarify that please with a game I used to play with words. If the words worked for me in my plan then yes please use those words just as I have stated otherwise they have no meaning for me. (Selfish? Self-centered?) Today I must live in recovery or die. I am not in the mind to die today so I will do the next right thing, pray for others and try to be the maximum service to God and our fellows. Some day’s it is not perfect but one of the greatest things is that I don’t have to think or believe that I must do it perfectly anymore (like I thought I had to).
Tall Grass gave me the tools to use to live in recovery if I choose to do so. Once I began the path to recovery I found that I did indeed want to live in recovery instead of just going thru the motions like I had done for years before with the coming in and going back out. I have been sober 1,332 days by God’s Grace (my Higher Power). I do not do it perfectly and some days I just have to let it be!
I do not today want to recover what I lost. I have found a new way to exist in the imperfection of life by doing the next right thing not the next five things. The old has no place in my head or my heart only the steps of going forward working and living in from one to twelve then all over again will I begin to walk the path in recovery.

Lisa C. alumnus #139

I don’t think any of us come into treatment because we want to. I am sure none of us really gave our permission to be alcoholics and addicts. We usually seek help because we can’t live with booze and drugs anymore…and we can’t live without it. At least that was the case with me.
I checked into Tallgrass on my 24th birthday. It was my second time in treatment in five years. I sobered up when I was 19, relapsing at age 23, for 11 months on my drug of choice, opiates, after four major surgeries. On the morning of February 1st, I woke up and felt that my one year old baby girl could see right through me. All the hurt and pain I had bottled up inside, she could see. I called my family physician and checked into the hospital that afternoon to begin detox. I knew that after detox, Tallgrass was the next step in getting my life back. I knew the staff at Tallgrass were all in recovery, that they had what I wanted so badly. I knew my High Power would be placing me in the unconditional loving hands of the people who had trudged the same painful path that I was currently trudging. I cannot say that I walked through the doors, the light came on and I was cured. But it was a beginning. That lead me into a painful 4th and 5th step, where I had to surrender and accept the fact this disease I had was cunning, baffling and powerful…and killing me. That if I didn’t start doing the uncomfortable, I was going to die. I completed the 30-day residential component of Tallgrass, moving immediately into the women’s sober living home. Not because I wanted to, but because it was suggested to me that I try something different. I would do ANYTHING not to use or drink again, finally beaten down enough, willing to do it someone else’s way. It was quite apparent to me that my way wasn’t working any longer. I stayed in sober living for seven months, planting my feet into a solid foundation of recovery. It wasn’t comfortable, but rarely has life on life’s terms been comfortable for me. Living with other sober women was a learning curve for me, teaching me that I don’t always know what is best and to be accountable for myself.I learned that Halee needs to be responsible for Halee’s recovery. No one poured booze and drugs down my throat and no one was responsible for keeping them out, but me. If I had told you what I had expected the gifts of sobriety to have given me, I would have sold myself short. When i checked into Tallgrass, all I wanted was to not use drugs anymore. What I received was a great big God, of my understanding, and a village of friends who have my best interests at heart. My Higher Power and friends in recovery are there to walk me through the uncomfortable stuff. I may not enjoy being out of comfort zone, but I have found it necessary for my spiritual growth.
Today, when I lay my head down on my pillow at night, sober, I know that I get a chance to be a better person tomorrow. I think that is what my God wants for me and my life…to be a bit better today than I was yesterday. This life is a lot better than it used to be…”You cannot stay drunk on yesterday’s beer and you cannot stay sober on yesterday’s prayer.”

-Halee B. alumnus #613

I came back into recovery in late February of 2012. I had been in county jail- again, awaiting sentencing for drinking and driving- again. The number of times really doesn’t matter for the point of this short story other than to say it was to many times. Over the last ten to fifteen years I’d been in and out of various “institutions” in the state of South Dakota at varied levels supervision and accountability, and have been involved in almost every recovery program the greater Sioux Falls area has to offer. I was given an exceptional opportunity by the sentencing judge in my case for one last chance to avoid prison and prove that I still had something to contribute to society. After all, I had proven in the past that I was quite capable of doing so, by achieving a very good position in my chosen profession, my family life, the community in general, at a fairly young age.
The problem was I drank to much, and it finally began control me rather than I controlling it. Alcoholism and addiction are equal opportunity diseases, they do not discriminate. There are some wonderful people trying to educate the public about the nature of this epidemic, and they should be given more attention. (Enough of that). My alcoholism slowly took from me every thing that I was. The last time I walked out of jail all I had, literally, were the clothes on my back. I was almost as barren emotionally and spiritually. Mentally I was as stressed as I had ever remembered being.

But I had been given this opportunity. I could blame many things on my alcoholism, and though I did not chose to become a homeless drunk, I can not, and do not wish to propose that I am not responsible for my own recovery. But the task seemed overwhelming. I’d made mistakes, I’d failed at some things, I’d committed crimes (multiple DWI’s). But I did not consider myself a “criminal”, and failing does not automatically make a person a “failure”. But it was my experience that society and institutions were judging my results rather than my intentions.

I was accepted into a program were found not just the basics of food and shelter, they provided a sober environment that kept me accountable, but not subdued. A place to be at home, instead of detained. A place where I had the freedom to pursue my goals instead of a one size fits all program designed to keep criminals from re-offending. See, I’m not a criminal, and I never really wanted to offend. I made some really bad decisions that I regret, and have paid the price for. Now its all about the future. I’ve remained sober and have started mending relationships, new and old. I’ve been able to work full time at a job that was once part-time, while still pursuing a position back in my chosen profession. Which I secured about months ago. I’ve gotten my driving privileges restored, I bought a car, have health insurance, I’m paying off debts and saving for the future.

Most of all, its nice to be comfortable with who I am today, where I am, and what direction I’m heading, To not be ashamed of being a failure, mistake, or some other label.

My name is Brian and I am an alcoholic.

We have been busy this month with new guests arriving, alumni visiting and volunteers spreading the Christmas cheer. The house has been decorated. Carrie has been whipping up some delicious holiday goodies….
The holiday season is notorious for drinking to be part of the celebrations. I, personally got sober six days before Christmas in 2007. I arrived at the Tallgrass Campus on the 21st after two terrible days at the Minnehaha County Detox. That was the first time and years that I had been sober on Christmas…and so the journey began. Not unlike many others before me and many that are here now. I hope that those of you reading this have a beautiful holiday season. One filled with much joy and peace. Perhaps, some of you, I will meet down the road, when your own journey into recovery begins.

Keep on keeping on…
Joan Swenson alumnus #113

After finding myself completely defeated, with nowhere else to turn, Tallgrass welcomed me to an entirely new world. From a frightened little girl, addicted to drugs and alcohol, I became a young woman ready to face my reality. When I arrived at Tallgrass, I was used to doing what I wanted, when I wanted, and I was used to having my way… And that was about to change. Tallgrass provided a structured environment that guided me through each day. I was given an introduction to the Alcoholics Anonymous book through daily studies. Working with a mentor, I learned about addiction, and about recovery. The staff taught me how to build relationships based on trust and respect. They showed me how to work through pressures, anxieties and other normal parts of life, that I had never dealt with before. Those who have gone before me, were willing to show me the way. Thankfully, I was also introduced to a recovery community, which has now become my safe haven. Through countless visits with staff and volunteers, Tallgrass gave me the tools to succeed in recovery. Now, it’s my job to pick them up and use them.

After treatment, when I left the safety and security of Tallgrass, the real work began. Thankfully, I was strongly encouraged to transition to a Sober Living House before venturing out on my own again. The sober living environment has given me more than I could have imagined. The accountability to myself and those around me is a great tool that has helped me stay on track. People often say, it gets worse before it gets better. I find this to be true. I have had glimpses of the beauty that comes with recovery, but not every day has been beautiful. At the sober living house, we are all there to support each other when days are tough… and we can also be there to celebrate the great days with each other.

There is also added encouragement of the Tallgrass staff for those of us in Sober Living. A huge part of my recovery is based on the community and those around me. I get daily reminders from friends in recovery to pray, meditate, read my book, reach out to others… the list goes on and on. Sometimes I need those reminders to continue with the basics. As an addict and alcoholic, boundaries have never been easy for me. This living environment has helped me form appropriate boundaries with people whom I live with, and those that I don’t live with. The support that the sober living house has given me, is not what I asked for, but much much more.

Kylee C. alumnus #637

For those of you who didn’t know, George McGovern was a huge supporter of Tallgrass. His entire life was affected by alcoholism. George visited our campus many times through the years. Touching the lives of the staff and guests alike. His very public struggles with his daughter’s alcoholism and eventual death, brought him to the front lines of fighting the stigma of the disease.
As a woman who battled her own demons with the bottle, having lunch with him at Tallgrass in my early sobriety, touched me. So from all of us at Tallgrass, thank you, George, you will be missed.

Joan Swenson alumni #113

I met George McGovern, personally, in March of 2008. I had the opportunity to help someone he was very close to make it to Tallgrass. Whenever our paths would cross his first comment was always asking how was I doing and how grateful he was for Tallgrass. As time went on, I got to visit with George more, it became very apparent to me that this was one of the most compassionate, caring and honest people I have ever met. As I began to get to know him better he shared the story of his daughter who had died as a result of her addiction to alcohol. He also gave me a copy of the book that was wrote about her life.
I would occasionally have the opportunity to see George from time to time and he would always remember me and always tell me how grateful he was to Tallgrass. The last time I got to visit with him was when I went to pay respect to the family when his son, Steve, died. Once again he greeted me the same way he always had every time I would see him.
There are very few times in a life time that a person gets the opportunity to meet someone who leaves a lasting impression with you. The kind of person that gives you the feeling, that you, have met someone who has made a difference in the lives of many people in this world. The three people that I can really tell you that have affected me this way are Jim Stoneall, my dad (Howard Livingston), and George McGovern. If I should never get the opportunity to meet anyone else that affects my life like this again, I can tell you that knowing George McGovern has been a gift that I will always cherish and will know that I had the chance to meet one of the good guys. George may you rest in peace.

Bob Livingston