A few years ago when Lamar Odom famously was found unconscious and almost dead at a bunny-ranch outside of Las Vegas, I remember the media response was brutal. As reports rolled in, most of the stories dealt with the hard facts but as the days wore on, the commentary piled on. Much of what I remember hearing revolved around Lamar being “so stupid.” I mean he’s filthy rich, plays professional basketball and was married to a Kardashian (well the last part may suck but you get what I’m saying).

It was open season on Lamar, from OK Magazine, to TMZ to every comedian you could find. And to be honest that’s to be expected in a society where serious issues are trivialized so we can feel better about ourselves. Well when I first heard about Lamar I cried. I cried because I’ve been that situation, alone in a room trying to drink or drug myself to death. It’s hard to explain to the “normal,” the strength of self-pity’s pull. It’s a pull so strong that the thought of playing with your daughter can’t rescue you. I cried because I knew that place, but I also found out how to escape. My hopes are I can share my stories and prevent others from ever going there.