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
I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly how or why my addiction started. Perhaps it was some combination of trauma, boredom, and an unrelenting desire to fit in. What I do know is that for as long as I can remember, I wanted to feel anything other than the way I was feeling in the moment. I also know that I was searching for ways to escape my reality long before I ever discovered drugs and alcohol. I would lose myself in books, in sports, in music. When I look back It’s clear to me that while I found enjoyment in those things, I also used them as a way to lose myself, as a way to not have to feel anything. For me, addiction is a much deeper issue than being dependent on substances. Don’t misunderstand, drugs and alcohol were a huge problem for me, and my behaviors in active addiction were hugely consequential, but they were never my real problem. Getting high was simply a manifestation of what was going on underneath.
By the time I reached my bottom, I was completely detached from the person I wanted to be. I had burned bridges with family and friends, cycled through jobs, and was living in a way that was entirely unsustainable. The substances that once provided relief stopped working, and I couldn’t numb myself the way I used to. I woke up every day with a sense of dread and went to sleep with the hope that I wouldn’t wake up. I wasn’t living—I was barely surviving.
In 2020, I made the decision to go to treatment at Harmony. I was scared, broken, and unsure if anything could actually help. But I showed up anyway. What I found there was something I never expected: acceptance. The staff and community at Harmony met me exactly where I was, without judgment. I learned that I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t unique in my pain. Through therapy, group work, and immersion in a recovery community, I started to understand that my addiction wasn’t a moral failing—it was a response to pain I hadn’t known how to process.
One of the most profound shifts for me happened when I was encouraged to explore spirituality on my own terms. I came in with a lot of resistance. I thought spirituality had to look a certain way—religious, strict, dogmatic. But Harmony helped me understand that my spirituality could be personal, fluid, and rooted in connection rather than rules. That opened the door for me to begin healing not just physically and emotionally, but spiritually too.
After leaving treatment, I got involved in the 12-step community. It was there that I began building a life that felt worth living. I found mentors who guided me with compassion and truth. I learned how to show up for myself and others, how to take responsibility for my actions, and how to live with integrity. Recovery hasn’t made life perfect, but it has made it real. I feel things now—joy, grief, gratitude, fear—principles that were always foreign concepts to me.
Today, I live a life I once believed was out of reach for someone like me. I have meaningful relationships. I have tools to deal with life on life’s terms. I know how to ask for help. I wake up with purpose and go to sleep with peace. Most importantly, I know that I’m not alone, and I don’t have to face anything by myself ever again.
After everything I’ve been through, what I’ve found on the other side of addiction is a kind of freedom I never thought possible. I’m not running anymore. I’m living—and for the first time in a long time, I’m happy.