I wake up every day.
I write my blogs.
I do my job.
This is it, the one-year mark.
Today, I am one year free from alcohol and one year free from bulimia.
This has been the most challenging, heartbreaking, devastating, and fulfilling year I’ll ever experience.
Overwhelming, uncontrollable embarrassment has run my life for the last year.
But I have a platform.
I want to speak on this because I might not get this chance again.
They tell us to write about what we know.
It is what I know, and it matters to me.
This could finally be the day I graduate to the point of not giving a fuck.
I can’t stop now.
Perhaps it’s not the best idea.
I guess this is the way that I communicate with people.
Maybe I’m a puppet, but at least I can see my strings.
And I get it, man.
Its another sappy, personal blog written by someone who works for a sports site.
Even while writing this, I worry that I’ve already used up all the bullets in my chamber.
I don’t know what people think of me anymore.
After this, I’m done with these for a while.
I’m so exhausted.
I’ve lied in wait for a year; now it’s my turn.
This is my story…
I had so much of what I wanted.
I had this dream job that I lucked into.
I had people at this company that cared about me.
I might still be alive because of some of those people, yet I was so unhappy.
I couldn’t manage my mental health.
I wish I could put a finger on what it was that made me so unhappy.
I loved my job and these people, but what did I do to deserve their kindness?
I was just the gas station kid, and I detested myself for how sad I was.
It became much easier to hide when it was second nature.
It was all I knew.
I couldnt stop the cycle.
I woke up and drank, ate, and then purged.
It was constant, and it was never sustainable.
It was amazing that I could function the way I did.
You develop such a tolerance that it becomes who you are.
At the rate I was going, something bad was going to happen.
I had to do it.
In hindsight, do I wish I was as public with it as I was?
I mean, Im not ecstatic that the internet knows my sexual history.
You do dumb shit when you’re drunk.
But the one thing that the blog forced me to do was hold myself accountable.
I got so many incredible and supportive text messages from my coworkers.
A different version of myself wrote that.
That person doesn’t exist anymore.
I’m glad he doesn’t.
I’d never been to rehab before.
I have no intention of ever going back.
I didn’t know how the process worked.
I was the one who made the decision.
When I arrived, my roommate told me I would be there for 12 days.
He had been there before, and he knew the ropes.
The first two days of rehab, I don’t remember.
It was a whole lot of detox, many injections, and some bloodwork.
The band-aid was ripped off, and I was left naked with my emotions pouring out.
What scared me was that I wasn’t sure if the world wanted me back.
I think there is an expectation that the slate is clean when you get out of rehab.
That baggage never goes away.
I decided to get help, but no one talks about the emotion that comes with the aftermath.
I had all I ever hoped for, and I destroyed it.
Communication became so tough.
I was learning to walk again.
Without that ability to loosen up, my nervous energy was overwhelming.
My image was shattered.
I felt like I had lost everything I worked for.
I thought time would heal things.
And I know that people could see it.
They could see it when I walked around the Barstool offices, unable to stand still.
I flamed out and embarrassed myself publicly.
I imagined a world without me, which seemed like a better place.
I wouldn’t have been able to hurt anyone or embarrass the company if I wasn’t here anymore.
Im still not sure what stopped me from crossing that line.
Did I make myself toxic?
Would my coworkers ever see me the same way again?
Leaving the house felt impossible.
My heart was broken, and it made me bitter.
I’ll be blunt.
I’ve been kind of an asshole.
I believe the correct term is “dry drunk.”
I’ve been short with people, and I’ve been hard to work with.
That’s been reflected in my content.
I’ve been so angry.
Theres a reason why Ive tried to avoid showing my face at Barstool events.
Working here is cool, but my sadness is not.
I was in Ann Arbor for the Michigan/Ohio State game.
I wouldve loved to have visited every one.
But I dont want to make anybody feel bad.
I wouldnt know how to handle me, either.
I’ve never wanted to bring people down with me.
I wish I could do this again and be better for the Stoolies.
There’s no excuse for being unlikable.
It’s gotten better, but it’s challenging to accept that you’re not the victim in recovery.
over the last year.
I lashed out at people and wallowed in my misery for too long.
I didn’t think I could do this job without alcohol.
Once the dust settles, you’re left with the shame.
That humiliation comes up in everything I do.
Im tired of people telling me I have nothing to be embarrassed about.
I have a shit ton of things to be embarrassed about.
When you’re given so much, it’s hard not to feel like you let people down.
I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.
I’m trying to do something I’ve never done, and that’s to forgive myself.
I don’t want that to be my legacy at this company.
This journey is my legacy.
I will not be the person who got sick.
I will be the guy who got better.
I understand the way I’ve gone about this is unconventional.
I’ve tried my whole life to be normal.
It’s never going to happen.
Do you think I dont notice it?
I wish there were a magic cure, but theres not.
There is only Chris.
I’ve been saying for months, “I need to keep fighting for Barstool.”
Its amazing the doors that open in your brain after youve broken a habit.
Around the six-month mark, I kicked it into overdrive.
On days when I felt like shit, I blogged.
On days I wanted to drink, I blogged.
On weekends, when people were tailgating with friends, I blogged.
I fought for this company, but more importantly, I’ve fought for myself.
Shame is a horrible emotion, but it passes.
No feeling is final.
I’m still here, and I’m still working.
I wasnt supposed to be at Barstool, but I made it and deserve to be here.
No matter what shit keeps getting thrown my way, I keep moving forward.
Maybe I can help people.
The number one question people ask me is, How are you doing?
Its hard to answer.
Some days are harder than others.
Im still not myself, and going out is difficult.
It feels like the whole world knows my shame.
Your love does not go unnoticed.
I haven’t been what you expected, but hopefully, I can be something more.
I havent always made things easy for the Stoolies, but I love you more than youll ever know.
I’m getting better, and those victories, however small they may be, are worth cherishing.
I have no idea what the future has in store.
I will contend forever that this is home.
I want to be at Barstool.
Its where I belong.
If I left now, I’d feel like I failed.
No one has ever made me feel like I dont belong.
But I can’t control the future.
I know who I am, and I’ve earned the right to stand up for myself.
I said a year ago today that this will be a story of triumph and not a tragedy.
I remain committed to that.
When they talk about me, I won’t be the guy who went to rehab.
I’ll be Chris Castellani, the greatest comeback in Barstool history.
My eyes are finally open.
To give up on me would be a huge mistake.
I just went through the hardest year of my life, and I’m all the better for it.
I’m not a liability.
I’m an asset.
I could shock a whole lot of people if given the chance.
There is so much more content to create and many more stories that still need to be told.
I’m really shy.
Sometimes, I don’t reach out when I should, but I truly care about these people.
I will never stop supporting this company.
There are people here who showed me remarkable grace.
At my lowest point, I still felt your kindness.
like know my life is better because many of you were in it.
Ive spent the last year of my life feeling like a complete loser.
I felt like I failed.
Only recently did I realize thats not the case.
I’ve had it all wrong.
I win by fighting.
I win by persevering, as does anyone with the guts to battle their demons.
I dont know much, but I know Ill still be here tomorrow.
Ill find what I’m looking for.
I know I will.
One day…at a time.
If you or anyone you know is struggling, c’mon get in touch with the following numbers.
