Relapse Prevention Program

Finding and Losing

I woke up early, as I do each morning, and read a DM from a young woman asking if I feel like I have found myself?

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I have found myself.

I have lost myself.

Many times over.

In the beginning of my recovery, I fell into the belief that my journey was to find myself. I searched fearlessly and endlessly. As soon as I thought I had arrived to where I was meant to be, I was left with even more questions about who I am and how I fit in the world.

I do not believe my path is to a stagnate self or a place where I am standing still, rather finding faith and comfort in the ever-changing landscape of my life. Like exploring a mysterious cavern, using my hands and feet to find my way, through the dark, only to emerge in a magnificent opening, filled with light and fresh air.

My journey has been full of unexplored spaces, always, leading to glorious days in the sunlight of ease and peace. I have learned to embrace the free fall, face forward, arms spread wide, having faith that I will land on solid ground, even though I cannot see it.

I have lost myself in the despair of addiction and found myself in sobriety.

I have lost myself in parenting to find myself surrounded by family filled with laughter and love.

I have lost myself in success and failure and found myself in balance.

I have lost myself in deep, mad, perfect love and excruciating heartbreak and found myself with a new strength and the ability to stand in solidarity.

I have lost myself in all-encompassing grief, burying the father of my children, only to find myself, once again, in acceptance.

Getting lost, means I am growing and my life is expanding and changing. Rather than finding myself, I hope to lose myself, over and over again.

And so, I wish for you.

The Anonymous Letter

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I am a mother, a wife, a sister, daughter, friend, a business owner, an author, a media expert, an All-American athlete and a recovering drug addict with 25 years clean and sober.

I have spent half my life being of service to others. Through my work as an interventionist, I have fought on the front lines of the disease, waging the war against addiction. I have been transparent about my story and my recovery, in my writing and in the media with the hope and mission of inspire others.

I have felt so much support from people across the world. I do not know most of them but none are strangers. Through, emails and social media, I have felt carried and encouraged in my career as well as my personal life. I have also have received a lot of hate. People can be very unkind and send incredibly ugly messages. I have been tormented, stalked and targeted by strangers. I have learned to have a thick skin but it took some time. In the beginning, it was very painful and shocking to feel, read and hear such hateful words and messages. One of the most painful was a comment saying “I don’t blame your husband for killing himself. If was married to you I would want to die too.” I am a professional but also human and that comment stayed with me for years. I will never forget the feeling in my stomach as I read those words. They actually took my breath away. For a few days, I considered retreating from the public eye but with support from my friends and family, I refused to back down or to turn back. I have a message to share and inspiration to offer, not only though my profession, but in how I live each day. I do my best to do good in the world and to be kind, and loving. I do not do it perfectly, but I do the best I can. However, I will not have my personal story of addiction and recovery mistaken as a sign of weakness.

I will not be silenced or bullied.

The second most unforgettable verbal assault was a few years ago when I received an anonymous letter saying I am 'a filthy derelict drug addict who deserves death.' Anonymous went on to say that 'every addict is the dirt and down fall of our society.' Anonymous wished me 'failure and relapse.'

Without any return address or identifying information I responded with an open letter on FB.

Dear Anonymous:

There is nothing you can say to me I have not heard a thousand times before. Your words roll off me, easily, smoothly without question or pain.  

I am a woman who knows the desperation of needing a drug so badly you are willing to die for it. I have been a lair, a thief, a derelict living off the scraps I found in dumpsters and the change dropped in my Styrofoam cup, on the street corner. I am a woman who broke the hearts of the people who loved me most, promising over and over I would be different, only to sneak out the back window, in the middle of night, not be heard from for days, weeks or months.  

I am also a woman who is a mother, a friend, a trustworthy family member, a business owner, making it my life's work to help addicts and their families, an author, an All-American athlete and an all-American drug addict, with 25 years sobriety.  

We derelicts and scourge of society are your law makers, school bus drivers, teachers, CEOs, government workers, fireman, union workers, nannies, doctors, nurses, lawyers and neighbors, to name a few. We are everywhere, living sober, bright lives full of love and laughter.  

I know this, that those who spit hate, have hate in their lives. My guess is you are addicted or have been hurt or abandoned by an addict.  

To this I say, if you are addicted, there is hope. You can find recovery. Change is possible. You do not have die the cold, painful, lonely death addiction guarantees. There is an expansive and beautiful life for you outside the small dark hole, from where you wrote your letter.  

If you were hurt or abandoned by an addict I am truly sorry. Addiction is an awful ugly disease and we cause incredible hurt to the ones we love most. My addiction changed and altered the lives of my family and this heavy and painful truth I still carry with me today, over two decades later. Whatever happened, it was not personal to you and I am certain you did not deserve it.  

I hope you find your way to heal the hate in your heart, find peace and live a better life. And next time you send a letter, sign your name. Be proud and own your shit.  

You have caused me no pain. You have only refueled my energy to wage the war against addiction and fight for addicts everywhere. We are an exceptional group of individuals of which I am very proud to be a member. Your letter inspires me to shine brighter, love deeper, live bigger and continue to thrive in recovery. For this, I thank you.

I will save a seat for you, keep the fire burning and when you are ready for recovery, I will be here. Until then,  

Fuck off.  

Sober and Shameless, Kw

50th Edition of the Magazine “Recovery Today”

I had the pleasure and privilege to be interviewed for the 50th edition of the online magazine Recovery Today. In the interview, I was asked about my work as an interventionist, my recovery and my journey from homelessness to a life of recovery.

Click the link below to read my full interview.
https://siteassets.pagecloud.com/recoverytoday/downloads/Recovery-Today-Magazine-Issue-50-January-2019-ID-dc16afa2-53b6-43ca-cb54-b269acfb6037.pdf

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  • I have spent the last 23 years practicing intervention all over the world.

  • I have met the most extra ordinary families.

  • Families that are brave with the courage of a lion’s heart.

Intervention is a spiritual battle ground and I go to war with the family disease.

After years, and sometimes decades of active addiction, families crumble under the weight of shame and secrets, breaking apart siblings, marriages, friends and loved ones.

  • Addiction happens to family systems not individuals.

  • The disease possesses its prisoners.

  • Suffocating, slowly, the life out of families.

  • Families become strangers to each other, retreating to the far corners of house and home.

  • Thoughts become scrambled and recruited to unintentionally protect the very disease that is eroding the family. Loved ones become senseless, trying to save their children, spouses, parents and dear friends. Fighting in the dark, swinging at ghosts, families spend many lost and unhappy years trying desperately to control and contain the disease.

At the heart of the matter, intervention helps families do a turnabout face and walk into that which they are most afraid: surrendering the fight and letting go. Intervention is bringing families together, guiding the most difficult of conversations, and inspiring each person to change, heal and expand, breaking the chains of shame and addiction. I do not determine the success of an intervention, on the choice of the ‘addicted’, but the health of the whole family. There is a path out for everyone who is effected by the disease. The painful truth is, that sometimes, families and addicts do not travel the road of health and healing together. Often, one very brave person needs to lead the way and stay the course, no matter who follows. Letting go of the people we love most is a deeply counter intuitive choice for anyone who loves an addict. It is the bravest of action, to release the grip and allow the addict to descend into the depths. Addicts do not learn from education but from hard earned experience. The act of letting go, is offering the gift of consequence.

The very reality that families are most afraid of is the very reality addicts need most, which is the opportunity to run into themselves. It is only when there is no one left to blame, nowhere left to go, that denial is pierced just long enough, for the addict to reach outside themselves for help. It is the birth place of self-esteem and in that very Devine moment, I am there, standing strong with a compassionate loving hand. My job, as an interventionist, is to illuminate the way out and inspire the journey toward a life of recovery. The path toward healing can feel, at times, unbearable and terrifying, but just on the other side of the storm, there is a calm new life, free of the madness addiction always brings. No matter how dark the days or how lost a family can feel, there is always hope.

Intervention is leading a freedom fight and a radical act of love.

Sober and shameless, Kw

Full Circle's Outpatient Relapse Prevention Program

Full Circle's Outpatient Relapse Prevention Program is an individualized addiction treatment service for men and women in the tenuous early months of recovery from alcohol and drug rehab. Lead by Kristina Wandzilak and Paul Mara, LMFT, a licensed therapist, with a specialty in relapse prevention, the RPP is an alternative to traditional outpatient treatment programs. Focused on the intricate, complicated and challenging issues of early sobriety, the service provides extensive recovery care while building and maintaining active lives. This program is offered in Marin County, just North of San Francisco. RPP is completely customizable, and can align with even the most challenging client schedules.

The Full Circle Relapse Prevention Program Includes

  • One private session weekly with a Full Circle Recovery Care professional.
  • Two educational/process groups weekly-Tuesday and Thursday 630 to 830pm
  • All scheduled and random drug testing. We require a minimum of two drug tests weekly.
  • 24-hour staff support.

The Full Circle Therapeutic Support Group and Drug Testing Service

Full Circle’s therapeutic group program is a monthly service offering education/process groups coupled with twice weekly drug testing and. The TGA is a clinical solution for individuals who have strong continuing care plans and are wanting the added support of a therapeutic group experience. Focused on relapse prevention and facilitated by Kristina Wandzilak, CAS, CIP and Paul Mara, LMFT, the service is a valuable addition to long term treatment plans.

Please call the office directly 415 202 6255 for further questions and admissions.

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