I don’t want to hear about Whitney Houston.
It makes me sooooo fucking angry when people glorify the death of someone who was a drug addict and/or alcoholic. This disease is no fucking joke and if you walked into the rooms of AA or NA for even a month, someone you know dies. It’s awful, it’s a huge fucking wake up call.
But the reality is, the minute you put your disease first, you are already dead. We have all seen it, the slurring, the paranoia, the shaking, and the vacant look behind the eyes. It’s heartbreaking and for some of us, sobriety is the last stop on the train. The last house on the block.
I knew someone who was 18 with 2 years of sobriety who went out for a night and died. People were inconsolable. A year and a half ago, someone I cared about very much went out on crack and the last time I saw him, his doctor told him he had 1 year to live. I haven’t seen him since his diagnosis. This disease is astounding. Astounding. Seriously, if you even think you have a problem, get help. Anything less than a life beyond your wildest dreams is just an absolute and complete waste. It gets better. It gets so much better.
Yesterday and today, I was so happy, I danced down the street. Dancing down the street. During my best night out, I NEVER danced down the street. Ugh, alcohol and drugs is a fucking cruel way to live. Being trapped in a warped and distorted reality, your brain constantly feels like a maze of funhouse mirrors. The grandiosity, the self-centeredness, the self-destruction. It’s not fucking worth it.
My worst day sober has been 100 times better than my best day drunk because I don’t have to do this alone. No one does.
