Eric Zimmer

I mean, we love stories.

We like drama.

And the truth is a little more boring.

You know, the truth, as I'm saying it here, is a little bit more boring to say like, well, yeah, that was important, but...

I didn't hit the punching bag three times, visit four old people in the nursing home, and suddenly I was fixed, right?

I got better little bit by little bit, day after day, you know, choosing to go to a meeting, choosing to call my sponsor instead of my dealer, choosing to drive a different route home instead of going by a bar.

All those little choices, none of which are monumental in and of themselves, though, are what makes the difference.

Yeah, I still take the bus everywhere.

I haven't owned a car since.

Oh, man.

Yeah, the story that we told about me driving to AutoZone opens up a chapter in the book.

And the last story in that chapter is exactly what you said.

I had been picking oxycodone at the pharmacy and driving it to my mom for several weeks before I even thought about it.

And yeah, I would have probably robbed you at gunpoint for those.

And now they had about as much emotional significance as a loaf of bread, which is incredible.

I don't tell that story to brag.

I tell the story because it shows that what often seems completely insurmountable to us can become second nature down the road.

I don't struggle not to do drugs anymore.

It's not there in that kind of day-to-day struggle.

Now there's things that I do that I think keep myself mentally and emotionally healthy enough that those cravings or those feelings don't come back.