At Least I'm Not The Frog II

I Promise It's Working, Even If It Doesn't Look Like It I would like to preface this post with the following: I am in no way promoting or advising relapse as a recovery technique. I am in no way giving you permission to relapse, or co-signing your relapse. Please, um, just know that before reading this. I only mean to broaden the conversation on the reality and probability of relapse within recovery. Relapse is one of my favorite topics, which isn't all that surprising, since it was one of my favorite activities for many, many years. And I don't feel we really give it the proper respect or attention. It's like we gloss over it, hoping to skip that process of recovery. We give each other warnings regarding relapse, and talk about it as though it were the plague. "Stay away from so-and-so, they've relapsed!"  I found very few conversations surrounding relapse as a legitimate struggle. I was often referred to as a "chronic relapser" without any

 Life Lessons Learned From Lofty Failures I know there's already a plethora of material on how failing is actually success in a mask, but I thought, what the hell, I'll throw down on that, too! You see, as a young man, I never thought excessive and repeated failure would be a part of my story, however, now, I can't imagine it any other way. I'm not sure how I would have grown into the wise, compassionate man I am today, were it not for my frequent, lucky failures. It is important to note that when I speak of failure, I do not mean it in the sense of tests, career advancement, sobriety, or anything of the like. I mean it as a failure to secure an identity, a trajectory, a purpose. A failure to truly embrace and love who you are , not who culture has allocated you to be. For many years, I flailed from one identity to another: young, Bohemian actor; quirky banker; free-spirited nomad; the misunderstood rehab/detox/psych ward attendee; reserved, reflective mourner. So. Many