Harmony Recovery has been providing addiction healthcare services in Estes Park since 1969. We would like to offer these stories from our alumni to show the humanity, strength, and perseverance of those working to recover from addiction. Often stigmatized and misunderstood by society, people on their path to recovery are managing a chronic illness which is a unique journey for each individual. Here is one such story. — Shane Hudson, CEO, Harmony Recovery

I’m not sure exactly when I realized that I was an alcoholic. I do know that for quite some time I did not care. I became resigned to the fact that this is just the way it is. I fully expected to die an active alcoholic. In fact, I welcomed death. I spoke with God (I don’t know what God is since I had no faith in anything) at night before attempting to sleep. I asked to not wake up in the morning. I pleaded, “If you’ve ever wanted to do anything in the least for me, please take me away from this pointless existence.” Every morning when I awoke from a broken, restless night, I immediately launched into a profanity-laden rant of disappointment and utter disgust at having to face yet another wretched day.

I was destroying everything that meant anything at all to me: my family, my job, myself. Next to drinking, destruction was the only other thing I was any good at accomplishing.

One morning something shifted. I had been violently ill for days. I won’t go into details. Suffice it to say that I was at a point where one of two things was going to happen: I was either going to die or I had to do something to save myself.

I, half reluctantly I would say, made a phone call to someone I knew that I could trust, someone who was all too aware of my condition. She was at my house in ten minutes. We spoke fairly briefly. She left and made a few calls. We spoke again shortly thereafter. She told me to call Harmony Recovery. I was vaguely aware of their existence, not exactly sure of what to expect. I made the call, was interviewed over the phone regarding my bleak, desperate existence.This was my first exposure to the type of compassionate care I would soon receive from Harmony. What was supposed to be a 45-minute interview turned into an hour and a half as I wretched every ten minutes attempting to explain my plight. I received a phone call back from this person I perceived to be a Saint less than two hours later. I was invited to become a client at a sanctuary that would, before long, save my life.

Two days later, on October 10, 2024, I was on campus. I entered spiritually naked and unafraid. I had no sense of pride, no sense of worth, no sense of purpose. What I encountered over the next 28 days was nothing short of miraculous! I was shown by these amazingly caring, vested, encouraging people that I was worth saving. How could they see this in me, believe in me when I had absolutely no belief in myself?

This incredible group of people told me I had value, that, if I listened, learned, absorbed their message that I could recover, that I could live a life that had purpose, happiness and freedom from this disease of mind, body and spirit. I had just the exact right counselor for me, just the exact right group of other disillusioned souls around me. Together, and that is the key component, we shared, we laughed, we cried, we consoled, we encouraged each other to become better people.

When it was time for me to leave this sacred, spiritual land of healing and love, I was frightened beyond belief. I thought, “Now I have to do this on my own?” But therein lies the paradox. I was not alone. I am still not alone. I have a family of sisters and brothers that dates back to 1969. I have at least 50 beautiful, powerful, resilient, blessed souls in my list of contacts in my phone with the last name Harmony. And that number continues to grow!

Connection, compassion, genuine caring. This, along with a myriad of coping mechanisms, tools that I can use when things become excruciatingly real, painful, heartbreakingly unbearable, and believe me they do, is what saves me from this disease, from myself.

Since leaving, I have been faced with many challenges. Challenges that a mere nine months ago would have sent me headfirst into a bottle of brown liquid despair. I still think about drinking in those situations. Not actively drinking, reflecting that not all that long ago I would not have been able to face the North, I would have run straight away from the strife, that is life. I would have turned the boulders in the road into obstacles instead of steppingstones.

In a short period of time, I have realized how wonderful life has the potential to be. One of my favorite things about recovery is helping others to achieve and/or maintain their sobriety. I have been blessed to become certified as a Recovery Coach. I have the unbelievable honor to be an ambassador for Harmony, aiding in spreading the joyous message of a place of miraculous transformations.

Sobriety is a university with no graduation. A lifelong journey attempting to absorb physical, emotional, and spiritual growth and healing. I’m Chris, and I will always be an eternally grateful alcoholic. Namaste.

— Chris K.