A recovering addict wrote to me, I want to thank you. Your story inspired me to get to the point I am today. I read your book while being incarcerated and then passed it on to my mom. She read it and never lost hope in me, even though I am sure it was very hard at times, especially when I lost hope in myself. We now have the best relationship that we’ve ever had.

I didn’t truly know what it was like to be happy at the time, but now with just shy of a year clean I am truly happy. It’s amazing how much your life can change in just one year. I thank God for everyday I’m still alive.

My reflection: This young man is the hero. He fought for himself and his family. He is happy today, living a sober life and enjoying an honest relationship with himself and his mother. We celebrate his year of sobriety and we celebrate his today. We say thank you right back.

When my sons and I joined together to tell our story, publishing our fourteen-year tragedy was the last thing I expected to do. I wrote out of pain. But today is a new day and Jeff has been living a sober life for seven years. He is happy and our family is forever grateful that he came home to himself and to us.

Today’s Promise to consider: We will continue to reach out and help others. We won’t allow fear and shame to keep us silent or to suffocate our hope. Today, we choose to stay in gratitude.

I was talking with a friend, and he told me: There was a time in my life when I described my inner self by a visual representation of a fortress in the middle of a desert. My external self was a fortress, an impenetrable stronghold, guarded by a part of me who walked around the top and watched people approach. Inside the fortress was my internal self where there were hundreds of rooms, each one open, inviting, and filled with beautiful decorations. But there was one room that was locked, bare and lit only by a dull blue flame. This is where the most personal part of me resided: Anxious, pushing up against the door to make sure no one entered. Do you understand that I was afraid to let anyone in that room where the ‘real’ me was? When people came to the fortress, the public part of me – the guard – let them in and accompanied them to certain rooms. They were never free to look around or permitted entrance into the locked room. In time, I learned to open my fortress walls and invite people to look around as they wish. The locked room isn’t bolted shut anymore.

My reaction: As I listened to this visual interpretation of my friend’s concept of self, I was intrigued and touched deeply. The fortress described by this young man was one I knew well because I myself had constructed one in much the same manner. Especially through Jeff’s addiction, I closed up my soul, my joy and my availability and allowed no one to enter the room with the dull blue flame. As I continued to do my work with honesty and toward serenity, my locked room isn’t locked anymore.

Today’s Promise to consider: Maybe we all build metaphorical fortresses in the desert that contain open rooms for our public persona and a locked and guarded room to keep our private selves safe. Though I recognize the need to protect myself, today I will break down the doors of my stronghold and allow others, especially those who love me and are in my support group, to see the real me.