Gratitude.  It’s a simple word, but its weight has never been heavier, its meaning never clearer than since I returned home from treatment.  I suppose that’s the first thing I need to express gratitude for—the opportunity to feel grateful at all.  There was a time when I didn’t think I’d make it to this point, a time when the haze of addiction clouded everything in my life.

Regret is a heavy word.  It's a burden that weighs down the soul, a shadow that lingers long after the darkest days have passed.  I have known that weight intimately, especially from my time in active addiction.  Those were the days when I lost myself, made choices that I will never be proud of, and hurt people I deeply cared for.  The pain of those memories—the lives I affected, the promises I broke—can be overwhelming.  What I’ve come to understand is that while regret can be paralyzing, it doesn’t have to be.  It doesn’t have to stop my recovery, and today, I refuse to let it.  This is my story of living with regret and learning to rise above it.

It’s been a month and a half since I returned home from rehab, and it feels like I'm learning to live all over again.  Everything is the same but also completely different.  There’s an odd sense of disconnection as I try to acclimate to a life I once knew so well, yet it feels like I’m walking through it for the first time.  When I left for treatment, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel coming back.  Part of me feared I’d fall right back into old habits, that the pull of my former life would be too strong to resist.  Another part of me was excited to start over, to finally live the life I’d wanted but couldn’t quite grasp because of addiction.

Day 4 – Detox (05/25/2024)

Last night was a really good night.  Since we’re allowed to stay up later on the weekends, three other patients and I hung out watching TV and swapping funny “war stories” from our time in active addiction.  Even though making light of those times is usually discouraged, there’s a certain comfort in finding humor in the ridiculous things we did during our active addiction.  It felt good to laugh and bond with them.

Day 3 – Detox (05/24/2024)

Last night was another rough one.  I managed to get a little more sleep than the previous nights, but still nowhere near enough to feel functional.  My body’s exhausted, yet my mind won’t stop racing. Today, I start tapering off both Methadone and Valium—Methadone to help ease the heroin and fentanyl withdrawals, and Valium to calm the alcohol and benzo cravings.  They help, but this detox is brutal.  My body feels like it’s fighting itself, and I just keep wondering how I ended up here again. It’s so hard, and I’m desperate for the moment when I can finally say, "I feel better."

During my time in rehab, I committed to keeping a daily journal—a space where I could pour out my thoughts, struggles, and reflections as I faced the challenges of recovery head-on.  Writing became a vital outlet for me, helping me process the rollercoaster of emotions that came with detox and healing.  These passages reflect the highs and lows of my journey, from the depths of withdrawal to moments of clarity and growth.  Each entry is a raw reflection of my battle with addiction and my determination to rebuild my life.

On September 1st, I successfully completed my treatment at Odyssey House, located in the Lower East Side of New York City.  Returning home after completing substance abuse treatment is an experience filled with a mix of emotions—pride in my progress, excitement for what’s ahead, and, admittedly, a bit of nervousness about how I’ll navigate life outside the safety of rehab.  Having spent months in a structured environment, I now face the challenge of continuing my recovery journey in the “real world.”

The journey to sobriety is an extremely challenging one, marked by a series of painful but necessary decisions.  Among the most heart-wrenching of these is the need to sever ties with certain individuals—people who have, at one point, held significant roles in our lives.  This act, which can feel similar to ripping out a piece of our soul, is often vital to breaking free from the grips of addiction.  While it may seem like an insurmountable task, the decision to cut specific people out of your life when striving to get clean and sober is not just important—it is crucial to your survival.

Learning to put yourself in someone else’s shoes before passing judgment is one of the most valuable life lessons you can cultivate.  It’s a lesson in humility and compassion, teaching us that our perspective is just one of many.  We often don't have all the facts, and our assumptions can be misleading.  When we pause to consider what someone else might be going through or has gone through, we open ourselves up to a more nuanced understanding of their behavior.  This doesn't mean excusing harmful actions, but it does mean recognizing that everyone has their battles, and sometimes, those battles can explain why people act the way they do. 

Relapse in substance use disorders (SUDs) is a complex and often misunderstood component of the recovery process.  It refers to the return to drug or alcohol use after a period of abstinence.  I’m writing this from my bedroom at Odyssey House, a long-term residential treatment center in the Lower East Side of New York City, where I’ve been in treatment for a little over 50 days.  I’m devastated by my relapse, especially after accumulating nearly four years of sobriety.  I constantly find myself asking this question: How could this have happened?

On May 22nd, I made the crucial decision to check myself into a 28-day substance abuse treatment center.  This isn't my first experience with rehab—far from it.  Since my initial treatment in 2018, I've cycled through various rehabs for different reasons.  I’ve entered these programs to meet my family’s expectations, to appease friends, and even to satisfy a judge's orders.  What I’ve come to understand is that while anyone can enter treatment for a multitude of reasons, true and lasting recovery only begins when the decision to get clean is made by you for yourself.  The only time I’ve seen treatment truly take hold is when the addict or alcoholic genuinely wants to change their life for their own sake.

Since getting clean from alcohol and drugs there have been four compelling films that I’ve watched that offer poignant insights into the harrowing journey of individuals grappling with substance abuse.  Through the lens of cinema, we navigate the highs and lows of addiction, witnessing the raw realities of its impact on individuals, relationships, and the pursuit of redemption.  From the gritty streets of 1990s New York to the skies above in post-traumatic flight aftermath, each film paints a vivid picture of the multifaceted challenges that accompany addiction, while also illuminating the transformative power of recovery.  This week, my focus will be on four captivating films: "Beautiful Boy," "Basketball Diaries," "Flight," and "A Star is Born."

Man, life is so crazy. It’s such a wild journey filled with twists, turns, and unforeseen challenges. As a recovering addict reflecting on the tumultuous path I've traveled, I find solace in the idea of reaching back through time to offer guidance to my younger self. In the throes of addiction, clarity often eludes us, and the consequences of our actions seem distant. If I could communicate with the version of me trapped by the grips of substance abuse, here are ten crucial lessons that might have illuminated the shadows along the way.

The journey of overcoming substance abuse, compounded by a lengthy criminal history, is a challenging and multifaceted endeavor. Society often perpetuates the belief that an individual's past, especially involving legal transgressions, defines their identity. This misconception can be particularly burdensome for those grappling with substance abuse and a criminal record. However, it is crucial to understand that one's past does not always necessarily dictate their future.

People often inquire about my choice to divulge the intimate details of my former substance abuse and criminal history in this weekly column.  Some view it as a daring venture with a high-risk factor, and perhaps, they're right.  Frequently, I'm met with questioning looks and asked, "Why do you disclose so much about your past?"  Doubts linger: "What if you pursue a job, and potential employers stumble upon all these revelations?"  The truth is that delving into my criminal record reveals only a fraction of my story, offering a limited perspective.  The safeguard of HIPAA laws ensures that details regarding my struggles with substance abuse and mental health remain largely concealed.  And so, the question remains: why embark on the risky journey of laying bare my past "skeletons" for all to read?

The concept of a "functioning alcoholic" or "functioning drug addict" often elicits a sense of contradiction, challenging the conventional understanding of addiction. The term "functioning alcoholic" or "functioning addict" is frequently used to describe individuals who, despite having a substance abuse problem, are able to maintain a semblance of normalcy in their daily lives. These individuals may hold down jobs, fulfill family responsibilities, and engage in social activities while struggling with alcoholism and/or drug addiction. They may not exhibit the stereotypical signs of impairment that are commonly associated with substance abuse. It's important to note that the concept of a functioning alcoholic or addict doesn't imply that the person is immune to the negative consequences of substance abuse. Rather, it suggests that they are adept at concealing their struggles and maintaining a facade of functionality. Over time, however, the impact of substance abuse can take a toll on their physical and mental health, relationships, and overall well-being.

Believe it or not, humor plays a crucial role in substance abuse and recovery. Laughter has the power to break down barriers and create a sense of camaraderie among individuals facing the challenges of addiction. In the midst of recovery, humor serves as a coping mechanism, helping individuals navigate the emotional turbulence that often accompanies the process of overcoming substance abuse. It provides a means to lighten the weight of self-reflection and fosters a positive mindset, promoting resilience and perseverance.

Five years ago, I spent Easter in a jail cell while detoxing cold turkey from alcohol and Benzodiazepines in Orange County Jail. It turns out that the Easter Bunny doesn’t make a pit stop at the local jail to deliver candy and hide eggs for the prisoners. I’d been arrested many times before, but this time I was facing much more serious charges than in the past - ones that, if convicted, carry hefty prison sentences.

In an unexpected turn of events nearly one year ago, Wendy Bynum-Wade, one of the editors of The Independent Republican, asked me to write a weekly column delving into the details of my experiences with substance abuse, mental health, and recovery. Wendy took a leap of faith in me. It requires a unique individual to take a risk and entrust a former drug addict with writing an article for a local newspaper. She granted me the freedom to explore any topic I desired, assuring me that if there was ever content she didn't endorse, she would communicate her concerns. This unexpected invitation has provided me with a platform to share my wisdom and experiences with a much bigger audience.

At first glance, I may appear as a six-foot-tall, skinny individual adorned with tattoos all over my body. However, a closer inspection reveals that these very tattoos are more than mere ink on my skin; they are a tapestry of words, phrases, and images that carry profound personal significance. My most meaningful piece is inscribed on my left forearm — a prayer known as "The Serenity Prayer." It is short and sweet, and it goes like this, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”