Happy to report that it has been 18 years since the last time I ruined the holiday season with cocaine and alcohol. EIGHTEEN YEARS. My recovery is old enough to vote, have sex, and go to war.

If you have lost the plot in your life like I had lost the plot for so long back then, I hope you will imagine a different story for yourself. Start telling that new tale in the mirror, then to the people you meet. Edit out the parts that have been causing suffering and humiliation, then live that new story. Show the people in your life that things have changed by being different. Do this over and over. Wake up every single day and try and make the new story true. Zoom in on love and dogs and all the happy stuff you can find and I promise you, someday it will be.

(Photo: Josué Rivas for INDÍGENA)

It has taken me days to accept that my friend Brent is not here anymore and I still can’t really find words for what this sweet man has meant to me and my own recovery over the years.

Beyond holding space as one of the few people I know who look hot with or without a beard — which I will gladly admit was what I noticed about him first and is VERY RARE — this handsome guy made space for me in Oregon’s recovery community when no one else would. He saw value in my journey from there to here, and he made sure other people knew it. He showed me respect in rooms I had been disrespected in and fought for me, and others like me who had carved their own path to recovery, to have a space at the big table. And it worked. Read the rest of this entry »