Today I helped lay to rest a friend. I don't know his whole story, but how it ended was horrible. An addiction that took over more and more of his life, until he drove away the love of his life and his friends, until he overdosed, in his car, at a remote place, all alone -- his remains found a month later. He only became self-destructive the last two years of his life. I've been self-destructive much longer. His end is a reminder to me of the times I came so close to an end that could have looked a lot like his, with a church full of mourners all saying what a tragic loss it was, so young, so unnecessary, so nice a person -- and them all asking, why couldn't he accept help?

Truly, I cried as much for myself today as I did for him. With all I have accomplished in recovery, I could be doing so much better if I would accept more help and stop spending so much of my life alone -- alone emotionally, that is, if not literally.

mtd