I was knocked out by these people and their daily courage and fortitude. I really want to thank this group for taking me into their homes and lives and allowing me to share their stories with you.
The Private War That Killed Spencer Cox
When legendary AIDS treatment activist Spencer Cox died on December 18, 2012, the cause of death was AIDS-related complications, which is understandable if post-traumatic stress, despair, and drug addiction are complications related to AIDS.
The Night Don Lemon Hugged Me
Don Lemon, who remembered our first visit and never mentioned the circumstances, who knew this interview meant growth for me, a sort of redemption perhaps, and who even knew a little about overcoming shame himself, reached out in a simple gesture of support.
The Truth is Bad Enough: What Became of the Happy Hustler?
Kearns’ story includes a bizarre intersection between us that I found so revelatory and disturbing that I had to actually put the book down for several days while I reexamined an entire section of my life.
My Muscles, My Disease: A Snapshot of Drug Addiction
Getting back in shape is an easy call. Except my mind puts physical fitness on the same crazy train as my drug addiction.
AIDS2012: The ‘My Fabulous Disease’ Video Collection
All of the six video blogs produced by “My Fabulous Disease” during AIDS2012 (the international AIDS conference) in Washington, DC, July 21-27, 2012.
The Crystal Meth Connection of the Gay Porn Killer
“… the sheer madness of the crimes, and the killer’s insane determination to make it as shocking as possible, was sickeningly familiar to a recovering methamphetamine addict like me.”
Dealing with Shame can be a Drag
“We’re born naked… and the rest is drag.” -- RuPaulWhen I was nine years old, I took my parents’ album of the Broadway musical “Damn Yankees” and memorized every syllable of Gwen Verdon’s show stopper, “Who’s Got the Pain When They Do the Mambo?” Once I was satisfied...
Grave Hep C News… and oh yeah, the Oscars!
The image in my mind has never left me, even after many years of trying, of applying layers of wallpaper to that corner of my mind. I am in someone’s bedroom -- it could have been anyone, really -- and I am offered a syringe to inject crystal meth. The syringe has...
The Long Road Home from Relapse
Florida highways have lovely rest stops. You would expect that from the Turnpike, where toll booths charge a premium every so often, but the manicured picnic areas continue even as you drive further north and onto I-75. I'm on a cement bench in a concession area,...
