By the time I turned twenty-three, it had been years since I’d gone even twenty-four hours without a drink, pill, fix, or joint. Though the fun and excitement were long gone, I also could not wrap my head around having a disease that necessitated a lifetime of abstinence. I know now that the drugs were still dispensing a mite of escape, and therefore offered a more appealing option than exposing myself raw and unmedicated to the elements of living. But dying slowly a day at a time was turning out to be unbearably painful. I’d finally reached the dead end where I felt I was incapable of living
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