Mindset in Recovery

Mindset in Recovery

Finding Peace, Purpose, and Gratitude on the Journey of Healing

For most of my early life, chaos was the only rhythm I knew. Since the age of nine, I was stubborn, defiant, and convinced that nobody could tell me anything. When I discovered alcohol at twelve, it felt like the answer I’d been looking for. That first drink created an illusion of peace that I spent the next eighteen years chasing.Through those years, my pattern never changed—I would destroy, rebuild, then destroy again. I went to treatment centers, swore I’d do better, and within months, I’d fall back. I blamed everyone and everything for the mess my life had become. I was too blind, too proud, and too broken to see that the only common denominator in my pain was me.

The Turning Point

On June 5th, 1987, I woke up shaking in a jail cell, my body poisoned and my soul empty. I was thirty years old. I didn’t even know what jail I was in or what I’d done. Then I heard my name on the news—Las Animas County Jail, Trinidad, Colorado. Charges: Second-Degree Kidnapping, Aggravated Robbery, Attempted Murder.The weight of that moment was indescribable. I remember stumbling to a small window high on the wall, looking up at a patch of sky and scattered clouds. For the first time in my life, I saw clearly—not the outside world, but myself. I realized how far I’d fallen and how hollow I’d become.I had run from myself and from God for twenty-one years. But that day, something in me finally broke. I whispered a simple prayer: “God, if You do exist, please help me.” It wasn’t about getting out of trouble—it was about saving a dying man.Within minutes, peace washed over me like nothing I’d ever known. That peace has never left me. It was the beginning of everything new.

The Shift in Mindset

That day marked my first honest day of sobriety—and this past June, I celebrated thirty-eight years of continuous recovery. Not because I’m strong, but because God is faithful.That was the day I began taking responsibility for my life. I stopped looking outward for blame and started looking inward for truth. And from that awakening came something else—gratitude. Not the kind we share once a year at Thanksgiving, but the kind that keeps you breathing when life feels too heavy to bear.Practicing gratitude daily has become one of the pillars of my recovery. It reminds me that even in pain, I am growing. Even in silence, I am being guided. And even when addiction whispers again, I am never alone.Addiction is cunning and persistent—it always starts in the mind. Sometimes it disguises itself as comfort, telling you it can ease the pain. But addiction is a liar. When those moments come, I’ve learned to do two things: talk to God, and talk to someone who knows me. Isolation is where the enemy wins; connection is where healing begins.

Relearning Life

Recovery isn’t linear—it’s more like learning to walk again after you’ve forgotten how. When I broke my neck at twenty-six, I had to relearn everything: how to move, how to dress, how to live. Recovery is the same.We come in with distorted beliefs about ourselves and the world. Healing requires retraining the mind—learning to see worth instead of shame, purpose instead of failure, hope instead of despair.Over time, I’ve learned:• The world doesn’t owe me anything—I owe myself the effort to grow.• People can hurt you, but not everyone is out to harm you.• God’s timing isn’t mine, but His timing is perfect.• True strength is found in vulnerability.

A Word to Those Still Struggling

There was a time I believed a life without alcohol or drugs was not only impossible, but undesirable. If that’s where you are today, I understand. But I’m here to tell you—it is possible, and it’s worth every ounce of effort you can give.Stop asking “Why is this happening to me?” and start asking “What can I learn from this?” True surrender isn’t giving up—it’s letting go of the illusion of control. When I stopped trying to manage everything and started focusing on changing me, peace finally found a home.

Planting Seeds

Today, my purpose is to plant seeds—to share my story, my gratitude, and my faith in hopes that it waters something in someone else. But I’ve also learned this: we plant and water, but it’s the Spirit that brings the fruit.If something in these words speaks to you, hold on to it. Let it grow. You don’t have to have it all figured out—you just have to start with honesty, willingness, and hope.

Connect & Grow

If this message resonated with you, I invite you to connect with me at New Hope Enterprise for more inspiration, encouragement, and practical resources for recovery and personal growth.Website: https://newhopeenterprise.com

About the Author

Daniel Immel is a Licensed Substance Abuse Counselor, Speaker, and Founder of New Hope Enterprise. With over 38 years of recovery, Daniel is dedicated to offering hope, connection, and mindset transformation to individuals and families impacted by addiction.