For 23 years, this successful comedian hid his addiction behind his jokes
EVERY MORNING, I LOOK IN THE MIRROR and I like the guy I see. My mother and God are the reasons for this.
Every day, I give thanks for being alive, for having two children I love, for having a woman I love, a job I love. When someone asks how I’m feeling, I usually say, “Supercalifragilistic expialidocious.”
I’m a comedian, an actor and a motivational speaker. I’ve done street comedy, stand-up, television, movies. I’m supposed to say funny stuff.
Except now I mean it. That’s also because of Momma and God.
Seven years ago, I was a hard-core crack addict. I’d smoke rock all night, then come home at 3:30 a.m., feeling crazy and exhausted. My wife would be in the bedroom, having fallen asleep waiting up for me. I’d sit beside her feeling sick and guilty. Then I’d go into the bathroom and smoke another rock. That’s the life of a crackhead.
I used crack for 23 years. But I was a functional addict. I worked, made money. I was successful. Everybody thought I was hilarious. Inside, though, I was a mess.
How did I stop? They say addiction runs in families. My dad was an alcoholic. He drank a fifth of booze a day and died of a heart attack when he was 51.
Thanks be to God, recovery runs in families too. I never told my momma about my addiction, but she knew. Of course she knew. Momma always knows. More than anyone else, she inspired me. She loved me, prayed for me, never gave up on me. The rules she taught me growing up—love God, be kind, respect yourself and others— formed my foundation. I leaned on that foundation in recovery. Momma’s love came from God. At last that love reached me and helped me get clean.
Growing up, I never knew that my family and I were poor. When everyone around you is poor, you don’t know what you don’t have.
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