Client ProfileClient_Profile.htmlClient_Profile.htmlshapeimage_2_link_0
Bloghttp://www.bestsobercompanion.com/aaiou1/Blog/Blog.htmlhttp://www.bestsobercompanion.com/aaiou1/Blog/Blog.htmlshapeimage_3_link_0
What It IsWhat_is_Companion_Care.htmlWhat_is_Companion_Care.htmlshapeimage_4_link_0
What It’s NotWhat_Companion_Care_Is_Not.htmlWhat_Companion_Care_Is_Not.htmlshapeimage_5_link_0
WelcomeSober_Companion_Coach.htmlSober_Companion_Coach.htmlshapeimage_6_link_0
Biographyshapeimage_7_link_0
ReferencesReferences.htmlReferences.htmlshapeimage_8_link_0
LinksSober_Recovery_Resources.htmlSober_Recovery_Resources.htmlshapeimage_9_link_0
InspirationInspirations.htmlInspirations.htmlshapeimage_10_link_0
ContactContact.htmlContact.htmlshapeimage_11_link_0

COMPANION-ASSISTED RECOVERY

Experience-Based Guidance

 
I started drinking at age 12, believe me I needed one, and managed not to cross the imaginary line of no return until I was about 18. However even at that point I still had a good 18 years of fight left in me. Those 18 years included moves around the country. A few sordid relationships. Several DUI’s and many jobs or lack thereof. A drive-by meeting. A thousand lies. Some thievery to be sure and umpteen, “I’m never gonna do that again” promises. Not to mention a sense of loneliness and despair I never want to repeat. Intervention came in 1997 as I sit, hungover by my pool in Manhattan Beach, next to a guy, still hanging out from the night before, smoking a joint,. To this day I have no idea who he was. A sliding glass door opened, it was my brother Chris whom I hadn’t spoken to for quite a while. Something inside me shuttered. He said would I come inside, he had something he wanted to talk to me about. That sounded pretty serious and I certainly wanted nothing to do with anything serious or heavy. I was just biding my time until happy hour with some girls I’d met the night before. However, not wanting to appear rude I went inside and there they were, the intervention team. And so it began. After much hemming and hawing about how I couldn’t go that day on account of I didn’t want to stand up the happy hour girls, as well as many other lame excuses, I finally did accept their invitation to the place that had “great food and a pool”. Did I mention it was in the wine country? How bad could it be? And God knows I needed a vacation. I was very tired. I had an amazing 28 days at Mountain Vista Farm and learned a lot about myself, except that I was in the “grips” of a progressive and fatal mental illness. Who knew it could be THAT bleak? I should just get a grip. Get my life together. Get a new job, a new girlfriend, some new friends, maybe. Anyway, after several months of roughly a meeting a week post rehab and trying to hang out with my old friends, I moved to where I thought was the “best place” for me, Aspen, where I opened a bar and proceeded to almost kill myself. I then decided it was Aspen that was the problem and moved to Austin. Notice how only the letters between the A and the N had changed? Anyway this brilliant idea lasted for 5 long days and nights until I found myself without a job and mobile-homeless. I called my brother in California and conned him to let me stay with him. He said if I was serious about getting sober then yes. I made it there and it lasted for about a week or so. I then went to stay with the old friends and that lasted for a couple of days and then THEY said leave. I stood on the corner somewhere in Manhattan Beach, where the journey began several years earlier and the seed had been planted concerning my problem and solution, and called my Mother to get her to send me to rehab. However, the universe had other plans and my Step-father who had 11 years clean at the time answered instead. I pleaded my case for Crossroads in Antigua (he had certainly heard of Eric Clapton) but he did me a great favor and wisely and lovingly said, “Go to ninety meetings in ninety days” and that was that. End of conversation. I didn’t know it at the time but luckily I was out of plans because I went to a meeting at appropriately enough “the last house on the block” and someone came up to me and said, “Are you new?”, and I said,”Yes. How did you know?” And so began my continuing journey in recovery. I was lucky enough to not have to really work my first year other than a quick run as a waiter and as a research assistant. Both of which lasted about a month total. I was not really employable yet so instead I attended about 270 meetings in my first ninety days. Eventually I knew I wanted to work in treatment so I applied to Promises Malibu at a year sober and got hired. I was quick to find out it was a tough yet rewarding gig but what I really liked was the one on one stuff I was lucky to experience. This became training for what I was later to become, a sober companion, which to this day I enjoy very much. Today I have a beautiful wife and two beautiful daughters. They are miracles for a guy like me who thought if he was lucky, would live his life out as a bar-fly. Many thanks to my family, the 12 Steps and to all the friends I’ve made and their amazing support. My life is so much different than I ever imagined it could be.http://www.mountainvistafarm.com/shapeimage_12_link_0

Name: Timothy  Harrington    

Favorite Book: The Spirituality of Imperfection

Favorite Quote:

“Words don’t cook rice”
-old Zen saying

Biography