100. 100 Weeks of Writing: A Journey of Healing & Resilience

One hundred weeks.  That’s how long I’ve been writing for the Independent Republican.  Week after week, for nearly two years, I have poured my thoughts, my struggles, and my triumphs onto paper.  What started as a way to express myself has become something so much greater—a source of healing, a testament to resilience, and a bridge between me and a community I never imagined would rally behind me.

In the beginning, I wasn’t sure I would be able to write five weeks' worth of articles, let alone 100.  I questioned whether I had enough to say, whether anyone would care, and whether my words would be worth reading.  As each week passed, I found that writing wasn’t just about filling space—it was about telling my truth, about processing my emotions, and about offering something real to those who might need to hear it.  What started as a short-term effort quickly became a lifeline.

When I first began writing these articles, I had no idea how much they would impact my recovery.  At that time, I was still grappling with the wreckage of my past.  Addiction had taken so much from me—my peace, my self-respect, my relationships—but one thing it could never steal was my voice.  Even in my darkest moments, I had words.  What I didn’t realize then was how powerful those words could be—not just for me, but for those who have followed my journey.

Writing has been more than an outlet; it has been a mirror.  Every article has forced me to confront my reality, to reflect on where I’ve been, and to remind myself of where I’m going.  There were weeks when putting my thoughts on paper felt like ripping open old wounds, but in that pain, there was healing.  Writing gave me clarity when my mind was clouded by guilt and doubt.  It allowed me to take control of my own narrative instead of letting addiction define me.  It became my therapy in ways I never anticipated.

But what has made this journey truly special is not just the act of writing itself—it is the people who have read my words and taken the time to respond.  The letters, emails, and comments I’ve received over these past 100 weeks have been nothing short of life-changing.  I have heard from people who are also battling addiction, from those who have lost loved ones to this disease, and from individuals who simply wanted to share encouragement.  Each message has reminded me that I am not alone.  More importantly, they have shown me that my story matters.

There were times when I wondered if I was strong enough to keep going.  I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to start over again.  After everything—after getting clean, building myself back up, and then losing it all in a relapse—I questioned whether I had the strength to go through it again. The shame, the withdrawals, the exhaustion of trying to put the pieces back together felt almost unbearable.  I wasn’t sure if I deserved another chance or if the people who had supported me before would still believe in me.  But even in that uncertainty, something in me refused to give up.  Maybe it was hope, maybe it was sheer desperation—but I knew I had to try.  Recovery is not a straight road; it is filled with setbacks, moments of doubt, and unbearable cravings.  But on those hard days, I would read the words of a stranger who told me that my writing had given them hope, and suddenly, I had a reason to push forward.  My readers have held me up in ways they will never fully understand.  They have been my accountability, my motivation, and my source of unwavering support.  To every single person who has ever taken the time to read my work, to reach out, to remind me that my words have value—thank you, from the bottom of my heart.  You have been part of my recovery in ways you cannot imagine.

And today, as I mark over nine and a half months of sobriety, I am overwhelmed with gratitude.  I have come so far from where I once was.  Every single day, I fight for this life, and every single day, I am grateful that I chose to keep going.  I have rebuilt bridges that I once thought were burned forever.  I have found strength in myself that I never knew existed.  I have learned that I am capable of more than I ever gave myself credit for.

None of this would have been possible without the opportunity to share my journey.  For that, I owe a debt of gratitude to Wendy Bynum-Wade. Wendy, you have given me more than just a platform—you have given me a purpose.  You took a chance on me, believed in me, and allowed me to use my voice when I wasn’t even sure I had anything worth saying.  Your faith in me has meant more than I can put into words, and I will forever be thankful for the opportunity you have given me.  You didn’t just allow me to write for the Independent Republican; you gave me a space to heal, grow, and connect with people in ways I never imagined.

One hundred weeks.  It feels surreal to say that out loud.  A hundred weeks of honesty, vulnerability, and, most importantly, resilience.  A hundred weeks of confronting my demons and choosing, again and again, to rise above them.  A hundred weeks of proving to myself that I am more than my past, that I am worthy of redemption, and that I have something to give to the world.

I don’t know what the next hundred weeks will hold.  What I do know is that I will keep writing, keep sharing, and keep fighting.  My journey is far from over, but if these past 100 weeks have taught me anything, it’s that I am not walking this path alone.

To my readers, to my family, to those who have supported me, and to Wendy Bynum-Wade—thank you.  Thank you for giving me the courage to keep going.  Thank you for making these 100 weeks more meaningful than I ever could have imagined.  Thank you for being part of my story.

Here’s to the next chapter!

And remember, if you’re struggling or know someone who is struggling, please don’t lose hope.  If that had happened to me, I wouldn’t be able to help spread awareness today.