It was mid December, 2013. I laid on the floor or an empty airport somewhere in the 3am hour. The previous few months had completely dismantled me, and attempts by others to intervene had pushed me into isolation. My plan that night was to leave town; never to return. My plan was find my final destination, and drink myself to death.
I had been on a heavy 3-year binge, which followed a 6-year binge, only broken up by a brief 3-month period of sobriety. I lived in a bubble, created by myself as an attempt to shield myself from the opinions and criticism of others. I knew how bad I was. I knew how wrong I lived. I knew that day-in and day-out, I was my own worst enemy. But I couldn't stop.
I don't know exactly how it started, but a decade of bad habits had solidified alcohol as the biggest component in my life. Sure, I tried to fight it along the way, but my attempts were always half-assed, short-lived, and never fueled by sincere motives. I was at war with myself, and I had drank myself into the deepest depths of chaos. On that grungy airport floor, I found my rock bottom.
However, I did not board an airplane that night. Instead, on January 2, 2014, I checked into a rehab facility. I had been sober for 2-weeks, and I had began to understand the concept of true surrender. For the next 28 days, every hour was spent better understanding my addiction. I dove in, dug deep, took notes, and listened to every sentence spoken by those around me. I wanted sobriety.
On December 17, 2016, I will be 3-years sober. I will be the first to acknowledge that I am no expert in recovery, but I have certainly learned a few things. I live with a respect of just how fragile my sobriety is, and the understanding that there is no guarantee for tomorrow. What 3-years sober has taught me, is that I have been gifted with the ability to reflect on both sides of my addiction. I see and appreciate the irrefutable contrast between life with alcohol, and life without. My mission is to spread the word of hope, with emphasis on the idea that all addicts should never give up. No matter how bad the suffering has become, there can be better days ahead. Square One is a visual representation of this concept of contrast. It is an attempt to reach out to anyone who feels hopeless and lost. It is for every addict who has hit a wall. It is for those who have a friend or loved one who suffers, and need reassurance that it can be done.
And so, I have been traveling the U.S., and screening this film for hundreds of people. In every city, I am reminded just how widespread alcoholism and addiction really is. I see it in the faces of those who approach me, and in the words of those who write me. I believe the issue of alcoholism is relevant in nearly everybody's life, and I aim to spread a message of inspiration, and a plea to never give up.
"RETHINK. REBUILD. RECOVER."