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Four years ago I swallowed my last pain pill. Christmas night. After days of trying to look past the glowing orange pharmaceutical bottle on the kitchen counter. At Chris’s parent’s home in Pennsylvania. My mind a mess. Months of heavy anti-psychotics, antidepressants, anti-anxiety medication. A pill to focus. One to calm. Another to balance. To block

Today is my birthday. I am forty one years old and ecstatic to have reached this age. On Saturday, I will be six years clean and sober. I say that with confidence because I cannot remember the last time I craved a drink or a drug, or even romanticised the notion of using either. During

I’m approaching another sobriety anniversary, and God willing I will celebrate twenty four years on the twenty eight of January. What a ride it has been for sure. I finished my final project for my Master’s degree in Advanced Studies of Human Behavior last Spring. I am an A student, and I put my all

In 4 days I will be clean and sober for 9 months.  I never thought I could get a day sober much less this long. And it is absolutely mind blowing to me how much my life has changed.  I am doing things I never imagined I would do in my life, especially after losing

“My name is Damien, and I’m an alcoholic.” This is the conventional way to introduce oneself at a meeting of the fellowship. It bugs me. The very first time I said these words they were incredibly powerful and liberating — when I finally said them, my surrender was complete. But as my sober time increases,

Well that was one hoopla, roller coaster of a year. Reflecting back over my 2015 was like watching fifteen different movies at the same time and not really having a clue what was going on in any of them. I’ve had some really high highs and some really low lows. However, I made it out

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