Sure enough, with the last cigarette in that carton came my last puff.
Witnessing the consequences of addiction on the lives of those still addicted helps me focus on what’s important in my life.
In 1988 I finally hit bottom, living on Skid Row in a cardboard box, addicted to smoking crack cocaine, and drinking alcohol.
For almost seven years–and in many cities–I lived on the street drinking and drugging. I felt lost in my own skin and thought no one could help me.