I’ve been a little quiet over the last few days, because it was my late brothers birthday on the 7th of September. After many years of substance abuse, he died aged 46.
Many of us don’t understand addiction, and are quick to judge those who act out with drink, drugs, food, sex or any other behaviours that sabotage our ability to show up and shine in our greatness.
For black folks, addiction is a cultural disease rooted in a desperate need to escape the vulnerability of our blackness. We carry the scars of slavery and todays oppression which vilifies our melanin magic.
Without a revolutionary program of gentleness, healing and compassion, our people will continue to recycle their pain by hurting ourselves and each other.
The last conversation I had with my brother was painful because he was high and incoherent.
I felt powerless over his suffering.
I was scared of getting THAT phone call. That my sobriety could not save him.
In recovery, I learned to let go of the guilt of not being able to end his misery. Today, I honor him by sharing the power of racial sobriety with those who are willing and able to do the work.
Healing begins when we accept that we cannot control how others choose to manage their pain. We let go of trying to save those we love, and focus on healing ourselves.
Today, I will not abandon myself in the compulsive need to rescue others. My recovery and healing must always come first.
In this previous podcast, I talk more openly about my brothers addiction and how his death continues to keep me sober and serving the community.
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