Two Stories About Recovery That Hit Differently This Week

On Monday, I heard about two very different stories involving two very famous people. Both made me think about recovery, sobriety, addiction, and something those of us around recovery learn pretty quickly:

There is no finish line.

The first story was about Brad Pitt.

I haven't talked to Brad Pitt. He hasn't called me lately. We haven't grabbed coffee. And until he invites me over to hang out, I can only go by what he actually said publicly.

In a recent Esquire interview, Pitt talked about having been sober for seven years and then deciding to drink again. He described his drinking now as being more restrained and acknowledged that there have already been a couple of occasions when he realized larger quantities weren't good for him.

This is also the same Brad Pitt who publicly thanked Bradley Cooper in 2020 for helping him get sober.

I'm not here to judge Brad Pitt's decision.

Recovery is personal. What works—or doesn't work—for Brad Pitt is Brad Pitt's business.

But his story caught my attention because I've heard versions of it before.

I've sat in meetings and heard people talk about having years of sobriety before eventually deciding they didn't need recovery anymore.

Maybe things were different now.

Maybe enough time had passed.

Maybe they had learned their lesson.

Maybe this time they could drink like a "normal" person.

And sometimes it started exactly that way.

Moderately.

One drink.

A glass of wine with dinner.

Only on vacation.

Only on weekends.

Until it wasn't moderate anymore.

Those are the stories I've heard. That doesn't mean Brad Pitt's story will end the same way. I don't know him, and neither I nor anyone else should pretend we know what his future holds.

But it reminds me why recovery asks us to focus on today.

Not seven years from now.

Not seven years ago.

Today.

Then There Was Hayden Panettiere

The second story was much harder to hear.

Actress Hayden Panettiere died at 36 in Greenville, South Carolina.

I knew her work. I watched Remember the Titans. I watched I Love You, Beth Cooper. I watched Scream 4.

She was somebody I'd seen on a screen for years.

She had also spoken publicly about struggles with addiction and depression.

According to authorities, Panettiere was found unresponsive and in cardiac arrest. Emergency responders attempted to resuscitate her, but she was pronounced dead. An autopsy reportedly found no trauma that contributed to her death.

At the time I'm writing this, her official cause and manner of death have not been determined. Toxicology results are still pending.

That's important.

I'm not going to declare that addiction caused her death when investigators haven't determined that.

I'm not going to turn someone's death into speculation.

But hearing about her death still made me think about recovery.

Because I've seen what addiction can do.

I've known people who got frighteningly close to dying.

I've known people who came back.

And I've known people who didn't.

There Is a Solution

That's really why I'm writing this.

Not because Brad Pitt decided to drink again.

Not because we know what caused Hayden Panettiere's death.

I'm writing it because somebody reading this might be struggling right now.

Someone might be wondering whether they really have a problem.

Someone might have been sober for years and be thinking, Maybe I've got this figured out now.

Someone might have relapsed yesterday and believe they've thrown everything away.

Someone else might be sitting alone thinking there isn't another way.

There is.

Recovery isn't reserved for celebrities.

It isn't reserved for people with money.

It isn't reserved for people who haven't relapsed.

It isn't reserved for someone who has reached some imaginary "bottom."

You don't have to wait until everything is gone.

You don't have to wait until your family gives up.

You don't have to wait until you're sitting in a hospital.

You don't have to wait until you're dying.

There is a solution.

There are meetings. There are treatment programs. There are professionals. There are recovery communities filled with people who understand exactly what it feels like to wonder how the hell life got to this point.

And there are people willing to help.

Sometimes the hardest part is simply admitting:

I can't do this by myself anymore.

You don't have to.

Whether someone has seven hours, seven days, seven months, or seven years, recovery still happens the same way.

Today.

Then tomorrow, we try to do it again.

There is a solution, and it's available to all.