12-Steps, Wild Tales: A Guide to Recovery

To the kaleidoscopic chaos that birthed this book, to the shimmering, hallucinatory hellscape of addiction that taught me the exquisite agony of self-destruction, and the breathtaking beauty of self-redemption. To the fractured mirror that reflected my shattered soul, and the painstaking process of gluing it back together, piece by painstaking, hilarious, and often terrifying piece.

To the ghosts of Christmases past, present, and future – the specters of bad decisions, the phantoms of regret, the mischievous imps of temptation. You’ve haunted me, yes, but you’ve also honed me. You’ve sculpted me into the flawed masterpiece I am today. And for that, a twisted, grateful nod.

To the anonymous angels of Narcotics Anonymous, the kindred spirits who shared their stories, their vulnerabilities, their triumphs, their stumbles. Your collective wisdom, your shared laughter, your unwavering hope – it was a lifeline in a sea of despair, a lighthouse in a storm of self-doubt, a psychedelic disco ball reflecting the joyous truth of recovery.

To the grinning, mischievous, slightly unhinged muse that whispered this story into my ear, urging me to embrace the absurdity, the vulnerability, the wild, untamed truth of my journey. May your subversive spirit always guide my pen, your kaleidoscopic vision forever color my words.

To the swirling vortex of life itself, with its dizzying highs, its gut-wrenching lows, its unpredictable twists, and its unexpectedly beautiful turns. Thank you for the lessons learned, the scars earned, the wisdom gleaned from the crucible of experience. Thank you for reminding me that even in the darkest night, the most chaotic storm, there’s always a glimmer of a technicolor sunrise waiting just around the bend.

To you, dear reader – may this story resonate with your own unique symphony of experiences. May it inspire laughter, reflection, and perhaps even a moment of unexpected grace. May it remind you that even the most broken things can be beautifully, hilariously, imperfectly repaired. And that recovery, my friend, is not just a destination, but a wild and wonderful journey. Buckle up, buttercup. It’s going to be a ride.