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We are all the same.

Last week I met Joe and I wish it was under better circumstances.

On my way home, I witnessed a vehicle hit a motorcycle from behind and send the driver 25 feet into the air landing him in a ditch. I immediately called 911, pulled over and climbed down to stay with him until they arrived. He wasn’t moving and I assumed the worst.

A medical professional happened to be driving by and pulled over to help as we waited. I stayed and held Joe’s hand and asked him questions to keep him awake and with us. He told me about his wife, joked about his motorcycle and asked me to take photos so he had a cool story to tell.

Once EMS arrived, I backed away and a woman watching said 'I’m shocked you did all that.’

She saw my confused face and replied with 'Honey, this is the south. I’m just saying. I’m shocked you did all that for him’ and my heart sank.

I was speechless. I didn’t care what he looked like. I didn’t care how long I had to sit there. I didn’t care about social distancing.

He needed help.

We don’t have to look the same to be kind to one another. Not a single person is born hating others because of race, political views or background. People learn to hate. My favorite saying by Nelson Mandela, 'If they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love.' Love everyone, including yourself. Humanity is MY race and love knows no boundaries."


JB: Except maybe Trump. There is no love lost on that one...


3 sisters, one home, same parents, 1 addict.

Contrary to popular belief, it doesn’t matter how you were raised. Addiction doesn’t discriminate. For all of the mothers thinking it is their fault, it isn’t. My 2 sisters went off to college, I went to prison. It is an illness and the only thing that could’ve stopped it would’ve been never trying anything at all.

Their minds see the world in a normal way. My mind does not. It’s a disease of perception. I could have all the love in the world, and still feel unloved. I could have every reason to get clean, and still get high. I could have everything or nothing to lose, and I still couldn’t sober up.

It wasn’t my childhood. It wasn’t trauma. It wasn’t daddy issues. It wasn’t my family. It wasn’t anything other than me and my make up. I personally have to combat that with a daily solution of faith in God and my sobriety program. I have to help others. I have to ask for someone else to look at my thinking because 90% of the time I am not seeing it clearly. I’ve accepted that.

So, for every family member blaming themselves, racking their brain of where exactly it went wrong, beating themselves up, crying themselves to sleep, and thinking it was something they did…you can’t make someone get high and you can’t get them sober.

It’s not your fault, and it’s too heavy to carry.

Get some rest.”


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