Papa don’t preach… – 

April 15, 2020 – I couldn’t continue living the way I was. I was either going to die, or get clean at that point. I wished death upon myself numerous times, and even tried. It was extremely self-centered, and all I could think about was myself and how miserable I was, I just wanted it to all stop but I couldn’t stop on my own. I tried really hard to get clean multiple times alone, but I kept failing myself, which only made things worse. I surrendered. Which seemed like I was giving up, but really I was giving myself a chance. Surrendering feels very ironic in recovery. I had one of my lowest weeks and after I just had no fight left in me, it had completely taken over. I drove up to San Jose and wrote out a long letter to my dad, because I knew the words wouldn’t come unless I had it right in front of me. I read him the letter and he hugged me and told me he was proud of me, which was not what I was expecting. We then found a rehab that I ended up completing for 30 days. I knew I couldn’t do music if I kept using. I couldn’t keep up the double-life, it’s just not in me. I got clean for a number of reasons. I got clean for music, for my friends, for my family, but lastly I got clean for myself. I honestly didn’t care about myself at that point; when you use to that degree you have such little self-respect. But I respected those I worked with, and those who loved me, enough to get my act together and show them the respect they showed me.



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