September 22, 2022: The Day I Left the Hospital

The Day Everything Changed

I walked out of the hospital that afternoon wearing nothing but a thin hospital gown. No clean clothes, but I had my shoes. No one waiting for me. No plan.

I stepped into the sunlight, skin jaundiced, liver swollen, stomach lining bleeding, my body barely holding on. I was 5’7” and over 250 pounds, sick, weak, and utterly alone.

Before I left, the police had searched my belongings, making sure I wasn’t carrying anything illegal. It was humiliating. A few days prior, I had collapsed under the weight of my own addiction. Now, I was leaving this place the same way I had come in—broken, desperate, barely able to stand.

And yet, the first place I went after leaving the hospital? The liquor store.

That’s how deep addiction had me. My body was dying, but my mind was still chasing the thing that was killing me.

The Grip of Addiction and the Illusion of Control

Addiction doesn’t care if your liver is failing. It doesn’t care if you just spent days hooked up to IVs, doctors telling you you won’t survive much longer if you don’t stop.

I had convinced myself I was still in control. Before I landed in the hospital, I had been getting ready to transfer to Ohio for a job canning beer, cocktails, and special waters—handling the very thing that was destroying me. I had also just picked up Oxys and Percs to sell, thinking I could make some quick money while still drinking myself into oblivion.

But by some instinct—or maybe by grace—I threw the pills away before I was admitted.

Even so, none of it mattered as I sat in that Uber from Murfreesboro to Nashville, knowing full well I was headed right back to the thing that had nearly killed me.

That’s the illusion addiction sells: that you still have a choice.

But the truth? I was already gone.

The Turning Point – Realizing God’s Love Was Always There

I didn’t get sober that day.

I wish I could say that September 22, 2022 was the moment I turned everything around. But that’s not how it works.

Recovery doesn’t happen in an instant. It’s a war. And before I even realized it, God was fighting for me.

There’s a passage in Following the Mystics through the Narrow Gate... Seeing God in All Things that stayed with me:

“We have put our emphasis on trying to love God, which is probably a good way to start—although we do not have a clue how to do that. What I consistently find in the mystics is an overwhelming experience of how God has loved them. God is always the initiator, God is the doer, God is the one who seduces us. All we can do is respond in kind.”

For so long, I thought I had to earn God’s love. I thought I had to clean myself up first, prove I was worth saving. But the truth? God’s love had been there all along.

It was there in the Uber, when I was too sick to see straight. It was there in the liquor store, when I was still making the same mistakes. It was there in that hospital gown, when I felt like nothing more than a failure.

The problem wasn’t that God had abandoned me. The problem was that I couldn’t accept a love I didn’t think I deserved.

Transformation – Choosing to Live Instead of Die

It took time. It took more relapses. It took pain. But eventually, I let myself be loved.

I walked through the doors of Recovery Place in Savannah, finally surrendering. I stopped trying to earn love and simply received it. And when I did? Everything changed.

That’s the thing: love is repaid by love alone.

“The mystics’ overwhelming experiences are full body-blows of the Divine loving them, God radically accepting them, and they spend the rest of their lives trying to verbalize those experiences, invariably finding ways to give that love back through forms of service, compassion, and nonstop worship.”

That’s what happened to me. I stopped running from love and started living in response to it.

I didn’t get sober because I became a better man first. I got sober because I finally let God love me. And once I did, I couldn’t help but love Him back.

FaceThyFear – Giving Back What Was Given to Me

That’s why FaceThyFear exists.

I built this because I know what it feels like to believe you’re too far gone. I know what it’s like to wake up in a hospital bed, alone, convinced that nothing will ever change.

But I also know what it’s like to come back from it.

I know what it’s like to feel love again. To wake up and feel like life is worth living. To stop chasing love and start receiving it—and giving it away in return.

Shout-Out to Mr.7: A Brother in Recovery

Before I close this out, I need to take a moment to acknowledge someone who has been a steady light in my journey—Mr.7.

When I first met him at Recovery Place, I remember thinking, Who is this guy? He wasn’t just there for himself—he was there helping people, pouring into others, giving his time and energy without expecting anything back. He didn’t judge. He didn’t act like he was better than anyone. Instead, he gave me his number and made it clear that if I ever needed support, he was there. No strings, no judgment, just genuine brotherhood.

And let me tell you—he’s never stopped showing up.

To this day, Mr.7 sends me recovery messages every single day. Every. Single. Day. He’s one of those rare people who actually walks the walk. His words, his presence, and his faith have helped keep me grounded, even on the hardest days. That kind of loyalty is rare, and I don’t take it for granted.

So to Mr.7, if you’re reading this—you’re a real one. Your support has meant more than words can say. You’ve been a reflection of the love and grace that saved my life.

And if someone reading this is lucky enough to have a Mr.7 in their life—hold on to them. Those are the people who remind us that recovery isn’t a solo mission. It’s a team effort.

Much love, brother. This one’s for you.

A Message to Those Who Are Still Struggling

If you’re still in it—still drinking, still using, still believing you’re unworthy of love—hear me:

You are already loved.

Right now. As you are.

You don’t have to fix yourself first. You don’t have to clean up before coming to God. You just have to stop running and let Him love you.

If you’re reading this, you still have time.

You don’t have to earn love. You just have to receive it.

And once you do? You’ll finally start living.

FaceThyFear – You Can’t Put a Shark on a Leash🔗 www.Facethyfear.com | www.FTFnow.net📩 For inquiries, collaborations, or submissions, contact: facethyfear@gmail.com

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Disclaimer

The content shared on FaceThyFear is for informational and inspirational purposes only. This article reflects personal experiences and should not be taken as medical, psychological, or professional recovery advice. If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction, seek professional help immediately.

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