For the first time in my journalistic career, I am really struggling with the personal vs. professional line. A friend and classmate recently died, and as the editor of the paper, I need to choose how to cover the event in a timely matter, but still be sensitive to the family and friends. Any advice would be appreciated.
This is how I am feeling. Sums it up…
No worries, I’m still alive. I’ve had a crazy few weeks with leaving New Jersey and coming back to Minnesota, then having to pack right back up and move to school for SENIOR YEAR. I promise I’ll get back to it soon.
This may be the absolute best article I have ever read pertaining how to treat a sober friend:
Worth the read. Click here.
After browsing through the archives of my personal blog during the peak of my use (sophomore year of college), I realized something: I made so many damn excuses.
Nothing was my fault. But more importantly, nothing was my good friend Alcohol’s fault.
I can see that so clearly now when reading through old posts where I had written about feeling depressed, having strained friendships, being…
*This is not intended come off as if sobriety is the choice for everyone, or that I am better than anyone – this is simply my personal experience put to words.
Fifteen months ago today, at 20 years old, I took my last sip of alcohol.
“Your last sip ever? You’re never going to drink again?” I face that question so often these days and there is really no response I have found adequate yet.
He was never mine to care about, so letting him go shouldn’t be an issue. Right?
As usual, I have only myself to blame for this predicament. I knew it wouldn’t turn into anything legitimate – of that he was perfectly clear, which I appreciated and agreed to. Past Beth would have turned away that instant because of my tenancy to become attached, and as a result, hurt. But present Beth said, “You…
“When you take part in a casual relationship, there are no rules. While this may sound amazing, it’s actually the worst thing ever. Not knowing where you stand with someone is exhausting and complicated.”
I know that in the past I have written about my treatment and recovery a few times, but always in a broad sense. I don’t know if it’s easier to address that way, or if I consciously try to block out certain parts of my rock bottom because they embarrass me (then again, it wouldn’t be rock bottom if it were something I was proud of).
So here goes – this is my attempt at setting the record…
“I think, at our cores, no matter how jaded and cynical and bitter and burned we might claim to be — we’re optimists. We like to believe in love and happily ever after, and we like to believe that something is out there waiting for us. And so that is why we hold onto the could have beens, and all of the futures we painted in our heads but were never brave enough to admit. It’s hard to reconcile…
This woman’s writing is beyond entertaining. But more importantly, there is a lot of relatable info here.