We need more recovery advocates like Christopher Campau. As a student at North Carolina State University in Raleigh, North Carolina, he's been in recovery from a substance use disorder since May of 2006. He continues to share his story publicly in a manner that includes emotions, honesty, and a call to action.
I've always wondered how our family portrait would ever be complete. How do I honor my three without my three here on earth? And then some photos from a few photographers starting showing up on my social media, a result of how much coverage Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month is getting this year.
The nation's drug epidemic, specifically the abuse of heroin and opiates, has earned center stage in politics and pop culture alike. The fact that we're talking about the devastating disease of addiction is welcome progress; those of us in the treatment field have been promoting awareness and de-stigmatization for years.
While it may be tempting to dismiss me as a single-issue voter with a narrow view of the world, consider whether there is one other issue whose poisonous vines stretch so broadly across every inch of our national landscape: public health, the economy, national security, civil rights, crime, family life, and education.
North Carolina is a prime example of unity, collaboration, and promoting recovery throughout the state. Unity within the community is how we beat addiction. What we can learn from North Carolina is that the principles of our personal recoveries should be present as we progress in the broader recovery movement.
I was with my late husband for 32 years. After he died, I planned to melt into my sofa in a haze of dark chocolate gelato and Nicholas Sparks movies. I'd be the woman in the bourbon-stained bathrobe buying the giant, economy Bombay Sapphire gin and twelve Butterfingers at Bevmo. But I "got out there." Too much.
As anyone who gets sober after having spent most of his or her life drinking can attest, the original process is terrifying. I didn't admit to myself I was scared because I told myself I wasn't scared, let alone terrified, of anything. Without realizing it, I'd internalized the idea that I was not allowed to feel fear so instead it came up as other things: either that social anxiety or anger and sadness.
I decide I've been looking in the wrong place for God and begin to morph my beliefs with reincarnation. The books I read tell me that we keep coming back, life after lifetime. This terrifies me because it means that if I don't heal the eating disorder in this life I'm gonna come back and face it again.