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Before my addiction, I worked for a state agency as an Executive Assistant to the Deputy Administrator. I was proud of that job, my title, and the work product I brought forward. I showed up every day with a sense of purpose, surrounded by leadership I respected and coworkers I admired. It felt like I was building something great. Until it ended…
Addiction didn’t feel like a choice at that time. It felt like a curveball I never saw coming and it hit me hard. But, eventually, people started to notice I was unwell, and eventually, as we all do, I lost that job. After that, things unraveled quickly. The kind of downward spiral that doesn’t need much explanation if you’ve already lived it.
When I got out of my first rehab, I remember feeling like my brain was mush. I knew what I was trying to convey at times and the words just would not come out. I couldn’t remember them. I felt like I had nothing to offer anymore. No skills. Afraid for my future. And a little voice in the back of my head telling me I would never have a “good” job again. So instead of chasing what I used to have, I told myself I just need something to prove I can work again.
I applied at a small bakery. I didn’t get a front of the house position, I was hired for the back. I went from an Executive Assistant to a dishwasher. And while I was grateful to have been given a chance, I was embarrassed on the inside; deeply embarrassed. But, I accepted the job and showed up anyways.
Every day that I got up, got dressed and went to work, I became more and more confident in myself. I could feel like old me coming back. So, I kept going, regardless of the shame in my mind. I stood in the back, washing dishes for the bakery. I sprayed myself in the face more times than I can count; got old food all over me. Some days, I wanted to cry. I tried something new and I started bringing my headphones to work with me. I got to listen to music and that brought me joy. I remember the moments of joy from hearing an old song that I hadn’t heard or sang in ages. Again, the old me was coming back.
Eventually I worked out of that position and was offered something at the front of the house. I remember being so proud to be making $14 dollars an hour, even though my feet would hurt so bad everyday. It was honest work and more importantly, forward movement.
Looking back now, that job rebuilt me. It helped to teach me that there is no shame in starting over and no shame in doing what you have to do, in order to get your life back. Looking back at it now, I didn’t go from an Executive Assistant to a dishwasher, I went from nothing to rebuilding.
If you have ever had to start over in a way that humbled you, what was your “dishwasher” moment?
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