My life before drugs and alcohol was awesome. I had fun and lots of friends. Most people liked me and I liked everyone. I played baseball, soccer and basketball. I ran track and had lots to do. My parents trusted me, and we had a great relationship. I was honest. I didn't lie, swear or cheat. I had goals and dreams - things I wanted to accomplish in life. I was going places and nothing would stop me. I was going to be a star college athlete; I was convinced. How wrong I was.
When I was 15, my friends started drinking. They asked me if I wanted to drink with them. I said "no." Saying no was something I had been practicing saying since grade school. When my friends asked me why I didn't want to drink, I used the excuse that I was committed to my athletics. I didn't think drinking was something they should be doing and I knew I didn't want to drink. However, I continued to hang out with my buddies. I was afraid to stand up to them. What would they think if I never got drunk? Would they still like me and include me in their fun?
I was so worried about losing my friends that I decided I'd drive them around. I didn't have a driver's license, but I justified that by thinking, "at least I am not drinking and they're not driving drunk."After a season-ending basketball injury during my junior year, my refusal to drink changed. I was depressed. I couldn't play sports because of my injury. I was disappointed and angry. Things were not going as I had planned.
One night when I was out with my friends, I had a drink. It made me feel better for a moment. And yet, life was never the same after that first drink. I lost sight of my goals. I made more poor choices and my dreams became out of focus. Drinking and partying became more important than sports and friendships. I continued to drink. My injury healed and I was able to play sports again, but it was never the same. It was easier to continue drinking.
Soon drinking led to smoking pot, telling lies and stealing. My integrity was shot. No one trusted me and all my "good" friends disappeared. They didn't want me to pull them down, as well. Because I wanted to dull the emotional pain I was feeling, I tried other drugs. I burglarized an apartment when I was drunk. I got caught and was arrested. As a result, I was kicked off my college soccer team. I didn't care about anything or anyone. All I wanted to do was party. At least I felt good - even if just temporarily - at parties. I got a fake ID and started selling drugs. Then I was using hard drugs, and in what seemed like moments, I changed from a weekend partyer and evening drinker to an everyday meth addict. I would do anything to get high.
After several years of using drugs, 90 days of court-mandated rehab and many stays in the county jail, I got arrested and sentenced for 53 months in prison. By this time, I had a 6-month-old son who I'd only seen a couple times because I was always supposedly away.
I decided I wanted to change. I wanted to be a better person. I wanted to be the person I was before the drugs and alcohol, before the lying, stealing and swearing. So began my struggle of healing and moving forward, of taking responsibility for my actions, being forgiven and forgiving myself, learning to live without guilt, finding joy again, having fun without drugs and, finally, using my experiences to help others.
I cannot go back and change the past, but I can make a positive difference in the world today.
I have been clean and sober for more than eight years. Lying and swearing are things of the past. Last year, when my daughter was born, I decided it was time to share my story in hopes of making a difference for today's kids. I have written a book about my life. I founded a nonprofit organization called A Generation Free and went on a 12,000-mile bicycle ride around the country to share my story with others.
I spend a lot of time talking to students about my experiences. Fortunately, I have the ability to connect and relate to students in a way parents and teachers often cannot. Sharing my story gives students insight into their own choices and decision-making abilities, and I open doors for dialogue with hard-to-reach students. Most of the students I talk to are glad that I came to their classrooms. Others think this vicious cycle of addiction and criminal behavior will never happen to them. For all of the students, I like to think my story shows that change is possible when people are ready and willing to work at something.
Students and teachers always ask me, "If you could give one piece of advice to students, what would it be?" My advice to a student who hasn't started down the path of drugs and alcohol: Think about the choices you make and how one poor choice can change the rest of your life. Plan and know ahead of time what you want in life and what you want to accomplish. Use that as your guide to make wise choices. If a choice isn't going to get you closer to your goals or dreams, don't do it! Think about what is going to happen as a result of your choices and who could be affected. You never know if you're going to be an addict. Don't take that chance.
To a student who might already be heading down the wrong path, I advise: It's never too late to change. It's harder to change the longer you're headed in a certain direction. It takes awareness, the desire to change and hard work, but it is always possible to change. Learn from my mistakes. I wish I would have changed direction sooner. I hurt and disappointed a lot of people, including myself. I didn't have to wait until I was in prison to change and find the real me.