Greetings everyone – Ernesto here. Recovery Arts has been very fortunate to have a friend in recovery, Charlie G., share his personal story with us. I must warn everyone that it is not for the lighthearted. I must also give everyone the heads up by saying that this is, without a doubt, one of the most remarkable stories I have ever read in my life. There is no amount of complements I could give Chralie G. to really convey the amount of courage he has for sharing his story. All I can say is thank you…truly. I know this will help many people out there.
Aside from the segment you’re about to read, and the subsequent weekly installments that will be coming, Charlie G. told me: “This is my story, which is what JOURNEY magazine & Joy’s House are for me – a constant amends to Joy, And to God.” Charlie G. has maintained, in his years of sobriety, his position as the Editor of the recovery magazine, “It’s All In the Journey,” as well as heading up a non-profit sober house for women in Miami called “Joy’s House.” All I can say is that he is a shining beacon for everyone in the recovery community that life is something we can win back and be happily in control of. Thanks again Charlie.
Do you know me? Really?
By Charlie G.
The hardest part of God’s forgiveness, is our ability to accept it. While I have accepted, with unbelievable gratitude, that forgiveness, forgiving myself is on a whole different level.
Now I am going to tell you my story. The whole story.
I live a life of recovery now; the main principle being rigorous honesty. Because before giving up, getting a sponsor and working the steps, my story haunted me.
Understand one thing before we start; I would have traded places with my daughter in a second. I WISH I could have changed places with her.
My story begins in 1984 when Joy was 2 yrs. old. Her mother and I were separated and Becky, Joy’s mom, kept her during the week at her parent’s home. Joy stayed with me on the week-ends when I didn’t have to work.
I had gotten home from work one day in Oct. when I had a feeling that I should go back (I was a projectionist at my dad’s theatre), even though I had just gotten off. I went to the corner pay phone and called my dad and asked if there was anything he needed. He replied ‘No, just come in tomorrow as usual.’
I went back home and sat down to watch tv when a feeling WASHED over me (only way to describe it – like a bucket of water being poured over you – but it was a weird feeling, not water) ‘GO BACK TO WORK!’ So I drove back to the theatre and went up to my dad’s office.
He was surprised to see me, and I told him I was bored at home and was just going to hang out for a while. As I sat down his phone rang. He answered it and a strange look came over his face. As he handed me the phone a feeling, this time a sick one, came to my stomach.
It was Becky, but I couldn’t understand her. Finally a man came on the phone and told me he was a policeman and that my daughter had been accidentally strangled after getting her head caught in the footrest mechanism of her grandfather’s recliner chair.
The nightmare had begun…
13/05/2009 at 8:53 pm Permalink
thanks for shareing charlie. once again you show WE do recover no matter when life shows up.
19/05/2009 at 8:15 am Permalink
Wow. What a story. I can’t wait to read the rest….thanks for sharing Charlie!