Brothers and Sisters in Recovery 🙏 Yesterday was sobering — no pun intended. I learned that my very good friend’s stepbrother passed away from an overdose. It hit hard. Real hard. Because every one of us knows the truth deep down… this disease does not play fair. Addiction does not care about age, family, intelligence, kindness, or potential. It steals sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, and friends. It leaves empty chairs at dinner tables and broken hearts that never fully heal. And the hardest part? Most of us know that person could have been us. Some of us have overdosed and somehow made it back. Some of us woke up in hospital beds. Some of us were brought back with Narcan. Some of us buried friends we laughed with just weeks before. We’ve watched addiction turn beautiful souls into statistics. That reality should shake every recovering addict to the core. But here’s what I also know: recovery gives us a responsibility. We are not just staying clean for ourselves anymore. We ar...
"Rock Bottoms and Sunny Days"
by Gary G
I remember the day like a thunderstorm still echoing—
a friend with tears in his eyes,
needle trembling in his hand,
begging me not to cross that line.
His voice cracked like old floorboards:
"Don’t do this, man… please.”
But I was already halfway gone,
heart hollow,
pain too loud,
and I said to myself,
"This is what I need."
And just like that,
the poison found my vein—
and I found another rock bottom
waiting to swallow me whole.
Shame became my shadow,
regret, my pillow.
Every sunrise felt like a dare
to survive
or disappear.
But even shadows give way to light.
And one day,
somewhere between broken mirrors
and aching bones,
I chose to stand.
One step.
Then two.
Then a thousand more
toward the sun.
Now, I chase peace, not a high.
I count clean days like gold coins,
each one a treasure,
each one a triumph.
The storms still knock sometimes,
but I don’t answer.
I remember the friend who cried,
and I cry too—
but from strength, not sorrow.
Some days are hard.
Some days I ache.
But the sun still rises,
and so do I.
Not because I’m cured,
but because I choose
to fight,
to feel,
to live clean.
And in that choice—
I’ve found my freedom.
Rock bottoms built the road beneath me.
Sunny days light the way ahead.
And I walk it.
Every damn day.
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