About
L. Robert Veeder
As far as bad days go, I think I have earned the right to say that I’ve had some of the worst. I am very familiar with what it means to be truly hungry. I’ve scratched myself to sleep at night from scabies, slept a number of weeks sweating all night in a well-hidden boiler room when I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I could go on, but none of that stuff can compare to the loneliness, the living sadness, that you walk with hand in hand every waking moment when your life is slowly, steadily, and predictably going to hell from addiction, and there just doesn’t seem to be a way to stop it.
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Things Can be Different
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The truth was that I did have choices. I did have power over my life. I could have done things differently, but I just didn't see it; I couldn’t see it because I refused to look. I remember coming home to stacks of mail piled up on the counter and I was just so afraid to open those notices that I didn’t know what to do. There didn’t seem to be anyone willing to listen anymore, not that I wanted them to; that would have meant facing the cold hard truth of having to change.
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I had tried all of the traditional paths. I tried finding Jesus. I tried 12-step meetings and treatment centers. I had tried cold turkey. I tried just smoking pot. I tried only getting high when I left the house. I tried only using at home. Just nothing worked. Nothing seemed to stick. This pattern continued for years.
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Finally, I had resigned myself to this. This was who I was, and who I was going to be in the world. I hadn’t given up on staying sober - it had given up on me. This was who I was going to be, perpetually intoxicated. What did it matter? I was only hurting myself. It seems so crazy to me now, but I truly believed I was only hurting myself.
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"I truly believed I was only hurting myself."
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Then one fateful and terrible evening, I was leaving my last bar for the day. I was tired and lonely, and I just wanted to go home and sleep it all off. Unfortunately, that wasn’t what happened. It was unfortunate for me; and it was truly devastating for so many other people. One of the often-quoted sayings in Alcoholics Anonymous literature about recovery is, “We will not regret the past, nor wish to shut the door on it.” But I can tell you quite honestly, even with as magical as my life is these days, I will always regret that night. Always.
Working with Robert
Meet the Man Behind the Story
My wife says that I never have a bad day. That’s of course not true, but I am a pretty incurable optimist. Maybe that should tell you how far I have come - and what is possible.
I laugh as often as I possibly can. I love watching old silent films; Charlie Chaplin is a personal favorite, but lately my daughter and I have been on a Buster Keaton kick. I almost always have music playing around me: it’s a personal goal of mine to listen to as much music as possible while I am alive, and truthfully, I love all of it - no exceptions. I’ll gladly listen to opera, bluegrass, jazz, funk, whatever. But I do have my favorites. I’m a big fan of the Grateful Dead, and I try to catch Phish whenever I can. We even have a sober jam about once a month at our house. It’s a great time, almost completely egoless. Nobody cares how good you are. You can play whatever, or just hang back and sing. The only rule is that you don’t get to hang back and do nothing, but it’s a blast and truly some of my favorite times to be alive.
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I play a mean blues harmonica, but probably prefer pickin’ my banjo these days. I also play a squeeze box, and can bang out enough chords on our old piano to keep me dangerous. I am a self-taught piano player. I learned how to do that in prison where I played for the prison’s gospel choir, which is frankly just as romantic as it sounds. I’m not a half-bad juggler, and many years ago did a bit of street performing, where I earned about as much as a good poet. I still like to toss the balls around, and usually have a magic trick in my pocket for the kids. I approach every day with optimism and gratitude. I have devoted my life, my work, to helping other people find their own recovery - and their joy. Connect with me today and let's find out how to recover yours.
Qualifications
2019-present
New York State Certified Addiction Recovery Coach
2014 - 2020
Chemical Dependency Therapist, Rochester Regional Health
2003-present
Person in long-term recovery from multiple poly-subtance use disorder, and a very proud member of the global recovery community.