The picture on the left is me at 22 years old, already in my first methadone clinic. While on a cocktail of that, pills, and whiskey, discovered a windshield with my face. 15 years of alcohol and drugs. In the end, I was homeless, a thief, derelict, degrading myself, not bathing or taking care of simple hygiene. I felt hopeless and would pray to God to die in my sleep every night.
To avoid prison, I went to yet another rehab. This time I was so tired I listened. This time I tried the suggestions. I didn’t believe any of it would work for me, but I didn’t want to use anymore. I found a spark of hope, and eventually recovery. This isn’t about willpower, weakness, or bad judgment.
This is the disease of addiction. The picture on the right is me today at 45 years old. I own a home, a car, have a family, friends, a great job, and most importantly – peace. I’m proud of the person I am today, and I never thought I’d say that. I didn’t think I’d live to see 30. I post this to hopefully give hope to anyone that struggles with addiction. There IS life on the other side. There IS hope. If a junkie like me can do it, anyone can. I don’t do this alone. Support is imperative, and not using dope no matter what happens.
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