March is always a weird time of year for me. It’s the anniversary of the last time I tried to take my own life — and nearly succeeded. It’s also the anniversary of my being hospitalized for said suicide attempt, which was ultimately the catalyst for my getting off drugs and alcohol once and for all, after 16 years of being stuck in a crack-fueled trauma cycle I just could not break out of by myself.

That was 12 years ago this month, and in the 4,380 days since, I have found a way to center my entire life around love, healing, and forgiveness. I’ve fought for myself and built a career that I am super grateful for and proud of. I have food in my fridge and a beautiful roof over my head that I never take for granted for even one moment, after struggling with housing and basic safety for most of my teens and 20s. And I have found ways of belonging in the world alongside the friends and family who made space for me to become this person all those years ago.

Thank you for believing I could and for holding me close. I realize it’s hard for some people to picture me this way. I am unrecognizably well, and you really just had to be there…but if you weren’t, I’m glad.

And if you are struggling right now, please know you can always reach out. Life will change if you stick around. I promise. It’s what life does. You should be here for it. 🖤

As I approach the 12th anniversary of my being in recovery from cocaine and alcohol, I am genuinely feeling really happy to be here, and so excited about life.

This hasn’t always been the case, as anyone who has followed me for any length of time will already know. I was using drugs back then for a reason — many reasons, actually — and those reasons didn’t magically disappear just because I quit smoking crack and killing my body slowly with vodka. If anything, those reasons became clearer and felt worse as I was getting well.

I am forever thankful for my doctors, who allowed me to go on a journey of harm reduction instead of total abstinence at first. The reality is, this recovery would never have worked if I hadn’t been put on Naltrexone for cravings, or if I hadn’t been able to use medical marijuana during my transition from suicidal junkie to regular human person. Pot saved me for many years, and gave me the space and time I needed to become myself again after nearly two decades of orbiting the atmosphere alone.

A few months ago, the weed stopped helping like it once had, and I went back to the same team of docs who had saved me, to see what was up. I made the transition from medical marijuana to BusPar around that time and almost immediately felt that impending sense of doom I’ve had strapped to my back since childhood disappear completely.

This is all just to say, recovery looks different for everyone, and it changes over time. If medication assistance helps you, take the medicine. I certainly have, and I’m zero percent ashamed about it. If you are experiencing addiction but aren’t ready to go totally sober right at first, then just find ways of hurting yourself less. That all counts as recovery, too — and fuck anyone who tries to tell you otherwise.

If you had told me 12 years ago that this life I’ve been living would someday be mine to live, I would never have believed you…but here we are. Healthy, happy and loved. 100% sober. Alive, inspired, and grateful. This shit is a goddamn miracle. 🤘💛