u/Mr_Willy_Nilly

My attorney intends to file my application for a downward departure this week. After going through everything, he believes there are several strong arguments worth presenting to the court.

The application will address the amount of time I've been on the registry (over two decades), where I am in life today, my recovery and rehabilitation efforts, community references, and other evidence showing how much has changed since my original conviction.

My recovery efforts are going to be a significant part of this. I've spent a considerable amount of time working on myself, taking responsibility for my past, and trying to give back to my community. A lot of that has been through NA and AA, which eventually lead to me working as a peer advocate and trying to help others who are going through their own struggles. I've put a considerable amount of time into becoming a different person than I was decades ago, and I want the court to be able to consider that when looking at who I am today.

There is also a very significant practical consequence if the departure is granted. Because I'm currently classified as a Level 2, I'm subject to lifetime registration. If I were moved to Level 1, the registration period would be 20 years, and I've already been registered for longer than that. So a successful downward departure would potentially mean that I would no longer have an ongoing registration obligation rather than simply moving from one level of supervision to another.

My attorney also told me that he's seen several cases in the last few years with circumstances similar to mine where the Board of Examiners recommended or approved a lower classification, and the courts ultimately followed those recommendations. Obviously, every case is different and there is no guarantee mine will go the same way, but hearing that there is a recent track record of cases where the process has worked is encouraging.

At this point, I'm cautiously optimistic. Nothing is guaranteed, but I feel like there are legitimate arguments here. More importantly, I'm hoping the court gets the opportunity to look at the entire picture, including more than two decades on the registry, the person I am today, and the work I've put into changing my life and giving back to my community.

We talk a lot about the damage addiction does to people. We should also be honest about the damage we can do to each other in recovery. I've experienced some of that myself.

But the more I've thought about it, the more I've realized this isn't just about me.

NA tells us that our common welfare should come first, and that personal recovery depends on NA unity. Unity isn't just about whether we agree. It's also about how we treat each other.

We have people walking through these doors carrying shame, guilt, trauma, fear and rejection. Some are barely hanging on. A few words can make someone feel like they don't belong. And if we push someone far enough, they may simply stop coming back.

That's a serious consequence for a fellowship whose message is that addicts can recover.

Our literature talks about creating an atmosphere of recovery. So I think it's worth asking: What kind of atmosphere are we creating?

I'm not saying we shouldn't hold each other accountable. We should. I'm not saying we have to agree with everyone. We don't. And I'm not saying we shouldn't have boundaries when someone treats us badly. We can.

Tradition Twelve reminds us to place principles before personalities. For me, that means recognizing my own part, protecting my recovery, and still leaving room for compassion. I can set a boundary without trying to destroy someone. I can disagree without humiliating them. And I can walk away without trying to make sure everyone else walks away too.

This isn't something we're meant to do alone. We're here, we need each other. One addict helping another is without parallel. That means helping create a place where people feel safe enough to keep coming back.

That's the kind of fellowship I want to be part of. And that's the kind of person I want to be. I want to be the kind of person who makes it a little easier for the next addict to stay.