My name is Aidan, and I’m an addict. I grew up in New Canaan, to a single mother. Growing
up I felt rather anxious, I didn’t have a lot of friends, and I got diagnosed with depression,
anxiety and ADHD at a young age. Instant gratification was something I latched onto early. My
thoughts were intense and critical, I obsessed over what people thought of me, but whenever I
made someone laugh, the bad feelings would slip away for just a moment. That was my first
addiction.
I come from a very close family, and when I was 15, my aunt passed away. She and I had a
very special bond, and when I lost her to cancer it destroyed me. Back then, I was staying with
her kids, my older cousins. I tried cannabis for the first time with one of them. That’s pretty
much the moment when my mind became controlled by substances. First, weed, then whatever
I could get my hands on.
Drugs to me were so cunning, sedating, and fun. They were a distraction from everything.
Depression to me had always felt like a headband on too tight attacking my brain with negative
thoughts. Drugs kept these thoughts at bay.
A friend in AA once compared my substance use to the acceleration of a Tesla: 0 to 60 in a
matter of seconds. Once I started, I could never stop. It escalated so quickly I couldn’t even
see the progression as it happened. Within the first three months of my use, I overdosed after
mixing alcohol, sedatives, and stimulants. I couldn’t see that I had a problem, I always
rationalized. I would do mental gymnastics to convince myself it was normal to use all day, to
mix substances. I would tell myself it was a special occasion, I just went a little overboard, don’t
worry about it.
To say that I had low self-esteem would be an understatement. I had NO self-esteem. When
you think nothing of yourself you don’t care what happens. It wasn’t like I wanted to die; I just
couldn’t care less if I did. I would use several substances each day until I was unconscious. It
was dangerous. It was insanity.
But it’s not how I live anymore. I got sober with the help of my family and friends – real friends I
made in 12-step programs. On October 8th, 2018, when I was only 17, I entered the world of
recovery. I attend meetings once or twice a day. I volunteer to speak at meetings, hospitals,
rehabs, and psych wards. Every year I stay sober, I look back and think of the impact people
I’ve met have had on me, and I hope I have a similar impact on someone who is struggling. The
opposite of addiction is connection, and I am connected to those who struggle; I can only keep
what I have by sharing the knowledge I’ve gained.
I feel like I got sober before I even grew up but maybe recovery helped me do that – literally and
figuratively. I still have struggles, but now I face them and move forward. Today I have been
sober longer than I was ever using.
Paul has asked me to speak at this Vigil more than once, but I never said “yes”. Not because I
am ashamed of my past. The person I see in the mirror today and don’t see a shred of the
person I was when I was using. I didn’t want to speak here because honestly, I was a little
scared of people. The same fear that pushed me to use.
But a little while ago, I had what you might call a spiritual awakening. I started to notice this
switch in myself. This change happened when I was at work. I’m a maître d’ at a popular
restaurant in town, and my job can be incredibly stressful. But this crazy thing happened one night: I wasn’t afraid. I felt confident to manage the chaos of the restaurant, the same way I
continuously get better at controlling the crazy thoughts in my brain.
It’s nerve-racking to be up here tonight, but I bet a few people are out there tonight–trying to get
sober, counting days, starting to work a program, not using. Believe me, that takes a lot more
bravery!
If there is anyone tonight who identifies with anything I’ve said, trust me, things will get easier,
just be patient. Sobriety is time-consuming, it involves relentless honesty for there to be growth.
But the work you put in is beyond worth it; the ability to be able to live life on life’s terms and
help others is everything to me.
My former sponsor is one of my best friends: the person who saved my life, the person who
helped me get – and helps me stay – sober. When we met, he asked me if I was willing to go to
any lengths to get sober. I lied; I said yes! I said yes, because really, what else was I supposed
to say? “You want me to go to how many meetings?” Today, that is the truth. And truth is, I will
go to any length to stay sober and help someone else get there. It’s not a lie anymore. I’m
grateful for that more and more each day.
And I’m grateful to be standing here proud, surrounded by my friends, my co-hosts, my
colleagues from work, and most importantly my family – the one I was born into and the one I
chose.
But there’s also family I never knew. As I mentioned earlier, I grew up to a single mother. My
dad hasn’t been in my life since I was born. And I was so good at something, and part of
something called recovery. People knew who I was. I felt like I finally mattered. I reached out to
him when I had almost a year sober. I was doing so well, both in school and at the restaurant. I
just ever wanted him to know that; I wanted him to see the man I had become without his help.
Honestly, all I wanted was to hear him say “good job”.
But that didn’t happen that way. I tried his Instagram, but he blocked me almost immediately. but
he’s blocked every chance to connect. That hurt. It was like he put this wall up blocking any
chance of a relationship. It was painful, but now I realize it was freeing. There is a silver lining
here. People have told me I’m crazy to think my father doesn’t want me, but that’s the truth. I’m
okay with it, because it doesn’t matter. I have all the family I need. I’m grateful now that things
happened like they did. I was able to move on and be thankful for everything that my mother
has done did for me. I didn’t need my dad to tell me anything. I know that I’m doing a great job.
I honestly can’t put the words together to express my gratitude for being free from the life I used
to live. I spent so many years, both sober and not, truly uncomfortable in my own skin. For most
of my life, I didn’t think I belonged anywhere. But not anymore. Now, I am part of a world that is
always so new and exciting, and feel the life I want to live is truly worthwhile. I am finally proud
to be who I am. I am someone who I believe is worth getting to know. I am comfortable in this
world, and I like it. Thank you.