I always had a fear of being caught on my knees praying.

I do it, of course. And I’m now admitting it publicly. So, what’s this fear about?

Fear is the essence of addiction. That’s why I used drugs. In the beginning, it was a way to overcome the fear and keep functioning with a reasonable level of comfort in situations where I was afraid the fear would paralyze me.

Although I had a phobia of actually being seen “praying”, I did other things which were shameless in doing drugs. For instance, I’d have no fear of being with people and snorting drugs through a rolled up dollar bill! Choking on a joint, or throwing up on the street after drinking too much was “acceptable behavior”.

However, being seen on my knees speaking to an invisible “Higher Power” was weird!

My beliefs as an addict were as screwy as the rest of my life.

If I could see it, I believed it. Therefore the drugs made sense in that: Not only could I see them, but I could feel them! An instant euphoria that took away all the pain and suffering of the moment.

I remember as a little boy sitting in the church service listening to the prayers asking God to relieve us of our burdens and our pain. Cocaine worked so much faster!

A drink sent me to this heavenly place where everything was right with the world! Vomiting was just a small price to pay for that feeling of unbridled joy. After all, everything comes with a price. Doesn’t it?

Most addicts profess to a lack of religious beliefs, having very little faith in anything. Yet if they are like I was, they’re actually hedging their bets saying prayers when no one was looking!

I wasn’t about to give up on God in spite of my bluster about being “free-thinking”, “non-conformist”, and “liberal-minded”. In addiction, I was so superstitious that even the most insignificant things took on mystical meanings!

Today when I read my daily meditations, I always recall my addict-self rushing for the newspaper to read my Horoscope! Who knew what the stars would put in my future today?

I always had a higher power as an addict. The drug took the place of God and I believed in it with all my heart! It gave me comfort when I was in pain, and made my troubles seem so far away!

I believed in drugs. (In a corruption of the age-old prayer…sorry!)

I believed that my dealer would front them to me when I was broke.

I believed that they gave me joy and a feeling of life everlasting!

Likewise the mystical rituals of my faith included the ceremonies before I actually consumed my drugs.

The rituals included the scoring of the drugs: The knowing looks and signals when finding the drug in a public place. The dealer takes on the role of priest or prophet being sought after by the believer. Me.

Add to that the quasi-sacramental “Cutting of the coke”, “Cooking of the dope”, or “Rolling of the joint” and what follows with the ecstasy of the drug “High” - and the imagery is complete.

It wouldn’t be right to talk about this without adding the element of high drama that goes along with all of this. I was doing something illegal. Always with the risk of being caught, and that played a role my addiction as an addiction in itself!

It was exciting to act out this drama everyday! I was the star of my own “action-thriller”, where just “getting away with it” was a daily fix!

Despite the complications of all of this: The cost, in money, physical and mental health, self-esteem, and so much more; I was ashamed of my religious faith.

I used to take great pride that I never ended up prostituting myself for money in the worst of my addiction. Until one day someone asked me if I’d ever “sold myself for drugs?” (Forget trying to count up those times!)

Humility is humbling…some would say humiliating, but educational.

I have a great faith today in a Higher Power I call God, and I’ll never be ashamed to say it out loud. I always professed to being a Christian. But now, after all the experience of addiction I finally became one.

The trip through life that I took isn’t one I’d recommend to anybody, but there isn’t one part of it that I’m not thankful for today. That’s the funny side of spirituality, like the old joke says:

A religious person is afraid of dying and going to Hell.

A spiritual person has already been there.

I feel good today. Better than I ever thought possible in the throes of addiction.

I can honestly say that the world I sense today was impossible to see from inside the world I’d created as an addict. It’s only when I got outside again in recovery that I got a true picture of the bankruptcy of addiction and the never ending cycle of using, scamming, scoring, and using again. I always thought that anything different would be impossible for me. One of the many lies I believed in.

It’s still a miracle to me that someone as sick as I was could ever recover. But, miracles do happen after all, don’t they?

So tonite after all is said and done I’ll say the prayer I always say at bedtime and give thanks for all the people I have in my life today. And add a line that always has a personal meaning to me…and for those who still suffer!

Prayer works. Just ask anyone who ever prayed for me!