Ten years ago tonight, I went to bed sober, having finally reached the realization—or more accurately, admitted the realization I’d long known—that drinking just wasn’t working for me any more. I did not know what would come next, so I took it one day at a time. For 10 years. 
The life I lead today is not the path my life was on 10 years and 1 day ago. Not at all. I am forever grateful that something changed on the morning of June 27, 2010—I’d half-heartedly tried to stop before then—that has led me to a place where I have not had a drink since then.
The help I have received since then, the people who have been there for me, the moments of grace that saved my sobriety (and, doubtless, life) when I wasn’t in a place to save it for myself—for all of that, I am forever grateful.
That support is needed for someone like me, an ordinary alcoholic, an addict. I have not had a drink or abused any drug since June 27, 2010, but I’ve also learned that I’m an addict — and that tricky disease will find its way into my life anywhere I’ll let it.
I fail constantly in trying to live up to the life that I want to live. But I’ve learned that I don’t need to be perfect because, you know, I’m a human. We’re all imperfect. I’m trying to do the best I can with the tools I’ve got.
I am living a more positive, healthy life today than I ever expected to be living — despite the complete upside-down way world is today. Acceptance, I have learned (in spite of myself), is the answer.
That acceptance lesson—which I fought so hard for so long—has helped make this year so much more livable for me today than it would have been for any other iteration of me. It’s amazing to me how much—and how often—the lessons of my sobriety have helped me with this year.
My sobriety and bipolar diagnosis both, along w/ my gayness and corresponding queerness, help place me in this world — and they’ve given me insights but also humility that I otherwise might never have explored as a white guy. And for that, I am truly grateful.
My experiences have opened me up to seeking understanding of others, in helping tell others’ stories, in lifting up others’ voices, and in writing about and now advocating for change.
Back when I was drinking, I far too often put myself in positions that could have been deadly — particularly for others who don’t look like me.
I once got into a stranger’s car on Connecticut Avenue, thinking it was a cab. I once almost decided to sleep outside in Manhattan.
I once got into a stranger’s car on Connecticut Avenue, thinking it was a cab. I once almost decided to sleep outside in Manhattan.
And so on.
But, I lived. So, at this point, I look at everything that happens in my life as a miracle.
And I try to do my best to do everything I can do with this miracle to make things ... better. Sharing understanding and stories. Addressing policy. Whatever it might be.
But, I lived. So, at this point, I look at everything that happens in my life as a miracle.
And I try to do my best to do everything I can do with this miracle to make things ... better. Sharing understanding and stories. Addressing policy. Whatever it might be.
To close, just know that if you think drinking or drugs aren’t working for you, there are other options. Whether it’s through talking to a family member or friend, a therapist, a 12-step group, or another recovery program, there are many people who would be there to help. 💜
I’m overwhelmed by your love and kindness — and by your own stories. 💖 You’re all so amazing. For all of the toxicity that can be spread here, nights like this remind me how much good can come of it, too.
Night, all, and let us try to be good to one another — and ourselves.
Night, all, and let us try to be good to one another — and ourselves.
