Nico Tortorella recently wrote an essay about getting sober for The Berry, where he framed the issue as a breakup. Here is an excerpt:
"I have an ex-boyfriend who almost killed me. I loved him more than anything in the whole world. We spent a decade together. January 13th, 2017 will mark two years since the clean break. Not a single day goes by that I don’t think about him. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him. He made me a happy man for so long, until he didn’t. He was electric, high voltage, still is. An escape. A poison that once ran through my veins. No one person to blame. Oh, I forgot to tell you his name. Alcohol, his name is alcohol.
I first met him when I was a kid. He was good friends with everyone in my family. I literally grew up in a bar, it was the family business. I had seen his power first hand as well as his weaknesses. I remember our first kiss like it was yesterday. When no one was looking I snuck one sip, one fucking sip of that Pabst Blue Ribbon and I knew. I was in love. However, it wasn’t until high school that we really started to get to know one another well.
...One late night he and I were downtown Chicago (I grew up in the northern suburbs) getting lit. He sure did always have a way of lighting up a room. We were playing one of his favorite games – quarters. The object is to slam a quarter on the table and try to perfectly float it in the cup. For some reason that night we were playing it with bottle caps instead of coins. I went to chug what was left in his cup and unknowingly swallowed the bottle cap. The metal ridges sliding down my throat, I was terrified. I immediately went to try and throw up but the pain was to extreme.
...With him, I’ve embarrassed myself and the people I love more times than I can count. I’ve been locked out of my house, passed out in places no one should ever see, been arrested for public urination, and pissed the bed weekly. I fell off the boardwalk on Fire Island and was covered in poison oak, got a head full of dread lock extensions, terrible tattoos and been thrown out of respectable establishments, hotels, and family members’ homes. I’ve brought people down with me, broken hearts and destroyed some incredible relationships. He introduced me to cocaine who is actually the Devil himself. With his bare hands he ripped my heart out of my chest and spit on it. I’ve hurt myself, contemplated suicide, and had some of the best nights of my life. That’s his problem, one minute he’s the sexiest person in the world. Statuesque. The next you want him dead.
...After a long 10 years together, much of which I don’t remember as I am a blackout pro, I ended the relationship. Kicking and screaming. It was the single most important decision I’ve ever made. January 13th, 2015 is the day I was born again. My life, my career, myself, love and acceptance, my truest form became. Arrived. I have arrived and you’re crazy if you think I’m going anywhere but up. I didn’t go to AA more than a couple of times. I instead I turned to literature, specifically Helen Schuman’s A Course in Miracles. I turned to friends, the ones I had left. I turned to family members and I turned inwards. I turned to juice cleanses, to working out, and to taking care of myself. I turned to love. I returned to me. Thank God I did. Thank fucking God I did..."
Read the full essay at The Berry.
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