“Wow, that’s embarrassing.”

Sharing stories on substance abuse, recklessness, & bad behavior

The Rumpus - Voices on Addiction

God, do I miss drinking sometimes. Like, REALLY drinking. Then, I write about my years trying to quiet the screaming and confusion in my head with any substance I could get my hands on, and I’m reminded why properly dosed and legal NY cannabis is my only friend. It’s because reliving some of these events is, well, mortifying. I’m cringing for myself. Not very demure, not very mindful.

Finding the proper format was essential when I set out to tell this story—a collection of smaller stories spanning decades. A vignette series allows a writer to rearrange snapshots of a life, highlighting a feeling, a still image, a taste, or a sound. The micro-essays form an entirely new shape, sometimes with the finished product almost unrecognizable to the writer. 

This new piece, "Fifteen Places," for The Rumpus’s Voices on Addiction column, is one attempt at weaving elements of my journey with addiction—as both witness and participant—and mental illness.

The concept of places is a deliberate misdirection, as only a few events truly mark location as the central focus. Instead, I aimed to show how these elements have followed me, regardless of where I moved (all over) or how far I tried to run (so quickly, so many times).

When writing about the awful, regretful, and embarrassing pieces of your past, it’s hard not to feel engulfed in shame. I was genuinely nervous to share this one. But I needed to—not to condemn anyone (there are no clear villains or victims, just messy, damaged humans), nor to air out grievances or past wrongs, but to break the cycle. To process and unravel these experiences, reminding myself why I write in the first place. Also, you can find a little levity in the breakdown:

Elsewhere:

A little love letter to my group chat & a Book Ban explainer for Scary Mommy.

A hit tweet about my toddler’s existential crisis on the passage of time and how it comes for us all.

And hundreds of stories in the replies to a question about childhood magic.

What’s next?

A photo of THE Barefoot Contessa is your only easter egg.