Harmony Recovery has been providing addiction healthcare services in Estes Park since 1969. We would like to offer these stories from our alumni to show the humanity, strength, and perseverance of those working to recover from addiction. Often stigmatized and misunderstood by society, people on their path to recovery are managing a chronic illness which is a unique journey for each individual. Here is one such story. – Shane Hudson, CEO, Harmony Recovery
On June 13, 2025, I entered Harmony for the second time. I walked in defeated, convinced I would never be able to maintain sobriety. I had left Harmony just four weeks earlier with the tools to be successful, and yet there I was again in the Admissions office—this time all alone. Before returning, I believed I had only two options: continue drinking and leave my wife and children to prevent further damage (I couldn’t see how selfish that thinking was in my intoxicated state) or try to get sober… one more time.
There’s a line that most addicts and alcoholics tend to cross, and it is a very fine one—the fine line of using to have fun and/or to numb one’s problems, to needing the substance simply to function. I’m not sure exactly when I crossed that line, but I know it was before my oldest son was born. At that time, I was using cocaine, heroin, and alcohol constantly to numb everything I could. After a great deal of pain and heartache, I finally got off the drugs and believed I would be okay. I wasn’t disappearing anymore or hurting anyone—or at least I thought I wasn’t. About six months after my first son was born, I was drug-free, but alcohol remained. In my mind, it was the lesser of two evils.
Over the next seven years, I slowed down to what I believed was “normal.” I later learned it was anything but. During that time, my wife and I had two more boys. I landed a good-paying job and thought life was going well, but eventually alcohol took control once again, and soon my job was at risk. In order to keep it, I took a leave of absence—and that is how I found my way to Harmony. I was terrified when I arrived and deeply homesick from being away from my family. But the staff was incredible, and the other residents were there for the same reason: to get sober. Slowly, I began to settle in.
I absorbed everything the therapists and techs had to offer—from one-on-one sessions with therapists who had once been in my shoes, to the beautiful hikes that helped reconnect us with nature. I learned how to feel again, and there is no better place in America to do that than Estes Park, Colorado. When it came time to return home to my amazing family, I felt ready and willing to do the work.
To be successful in recovery—and to be the man I want to be for myself, my family, and my friends—I must put my recovery first at all times. I missed that part the first time and unfortunately paid the price. So, I spent another two weeks at Harmony working diligently and left with a clear understanding of how quickly things can unravel when I’m not doing what’s necessary to stay sober. Today, I have six months of sobriety for the first time since I was twelve years old. I regularly attend recovery support meetings and have an incredible sponsor. Most importantly, my family has their father, husband, brother, son, and friend back.
The staff at Harmony are compassionate, supportive, and honest about where addiction can lead if we don’t fight for our lives. I still stay in contact with staff through appropriate channels to give back to the place that helped save my life. Some of the men I met at Harmony started our own 12-step meeting, and we lean on one another when things get tough. Sadly, we lost one of our brothers a few months ago to alcohol. Isolation can be an addict’s best friend while using—and with no one around, relapse can happen to any of us. I cannot overstate how important it is to find a recovery community for long-term sobriety, especially in early recovery. One saying that continues to resonate with me is, “The opposite of addiction is connection,” and I wholeheartedly believe it.
Addiction runs deep on both sides of my family. I lost my younger brother when he was just twenty-four years old and have seen firsthand how addiction destroys families. Accepting that I am an alcoholic and admitting I needed help was incredibly difficult. I was repeating a deadly cycle and hurting the people I love most. It is time to break that cycle and live a sober life. I want to show my boys that pain can be handled in healthy ways, and that trying to escape it only causes more harm. I want to be a man people can count on—someone who does what he says he will do. And I am. I have integrity today. With vigilance, hard work, and honesty, I hope to live a long life and, as the saying goes, “die a recovering alcoholic… not a drunk.”
– Mykel