Why being in recovery can be a strength, not a weakness, at work

Being a high-achiever in the corporate world is hard, hard work. If you fancy yourself a high-achiever and you’re in recovery, you’ve got an extra layer of challenges. However, I’ve found the lessons I’ve learned through getting sober have made me not only a better husband and father, but also a much more calm, thoughtful, and motivated leader on the job. I find myself calling on my sobriety-based skills daily, and I believe my past is a strength, not a weakness.

Here’s how sobriety is a secret power in my executive leadership job:

I learned “oars up” from someone in my 12-step program.

She said, “Honey, stop trying to tell the river where to go. Not to burst your bubble, but the river is stronger than you. It’s not your job to change the direction of the river. It’s your job to let it carry you forward while you navigate the rocks.”

Before recovery, I was a control freak and a perfectionist. I was constantly trying to influence people, events and my surroundings, all to ensure everything was the way I needed it to be. It’s a foolish, ego-driven approach.

So, I learned to let go of my need for control. I learned to let things flow. Above all, I let the people around me go about life as they pleased, without unwanted interference from me.

How does that translate at work? I carefully pick the times I want to steer situations or people and when I exert influence, I make sure my heart and head are in the right state when doing so. Is my action what’s good for the employee, the team, and the business -- or is it just good for me? Only after that kind of reflection do I decide to act.

My therapist taught me how to stop trying to fix everything.

I am, by nature, a fixer. Not in a home-repair sense (I am, in fact, dangerous with power tools) but in the sense of “Someone is having trouble, I need to get them right.” Not just help them, but fix the situation that’s causing them distress.

Here’s how I learned this lesson: One day my mother was very upset. This was during my early recovery, when I was out of the hospital and living back home. As she cried and shared with me her pain over a troubling situation, I comforted her by offering her solution after solution. While she stayed in her emotionally agitated state, I grew frustrated because -- amazing me! -- I had given her many options to solve her problem. Why wasn’t she taking immediate action? Why was she still crying?

When I met my therapist and told him about my frustration, he said, “Keith, it’s not your job to fix the problem in those situations. It’s your job to be a comforting presence.”

That was such a light-bulb moment for me, a huge release from the responsibility I had thrust upon myself to be Mr. Fix-It. I could apply that “comforting presence” approach in all kinds of situations, personal as well as work.

Sure, I have employees walk into my office with problems every day and we absolutely need to work together to brainstorm solutions. But if a person is upset and going through some strong emotions (problems at home, dealing with stress, etc.) and looks to me for relief, I turn off my “fixer” mode and turn on “comforting presence” mode. It’s a freeing approach that’s healthier for me and for the person who’s upset.

I identified and worked on my character defects.

My therapist and my AA group had a lot of fun with this one. Turned out -- much to my prideful surprise -- I wasn’t a very good person! I had a keg-full of character defects.These included grandiosity (self-importance and the need to be in the spotlight), dishonesty and envy, among other flaws.

Identifying these flaws humbled me and I began deliberately working on each. I became mindful of my thoughts and of every interaction I had with someone in my life. I noticed when my old patterns boiled up, and I replaced them with kinder, more loving approaches. Over time, I felt the flaws diminish.

Humbling myself by meditating on these flaws and understanding how my words and deeds impacted others really set me up to re-enter the workforce with an entirely different frame of mind. I still work on my flaws today and of course I’ve uncovered others!

I have a newfound bravery to call on.

Having hit my bottom, there isn’t a lot that truly scares me anymore. If you have an addiction, you know there exists a downward trajectory called the Jellinek Curve. It describes how the stages of addiction get progressively worse as you continue to drink or use over time. The bottom of the curve is just a circle that, if you don’t escape, goes around and around until you die.

The bottom of the curve doesn’t have to be where a person actually bottoms out -- you can head back up the curve from a much higher spot than the vicious circle. For instance, once you start having work or money troubles, you could decide enough is enough and seek help.

I didn’t do that. My bottom had me mere moments from death, lying in a hospital intensive care unit. My heart was failing, I was losing blood pressure, and my family had called in a Ward from a local church to pray over me before I died.

Later that night, my blood pressure started rising, and it eventually stabilized. Two weeks later, I walked out of the hospital. I had been given a second chance.

When I need to feel brave, at work or in life, I remember where I came from. If you’re in recovery, you had a brave moment as well -- when you decided you had lost control and needed help. Reflecting on that bravery is powerful and can help you keep your worklife in a healthy perspective.

Are you a leader in the corporate world who’s in recovery? Do you believe one-on-one leadership coaching from someone who understands your challenges would help you grow and thrive in your career? Call me to schedule a 2-hour deep-dive 513-502-8168.

By day I’m a leader at a technology company; outside the office, my passion is coaching executives who are in recovery and want to achieve their fullest potential. Email me any time if you want to talk [email protected].