About The Author


Hi, my name is C.S. Bear and I’m a proud survivor of the opiate epidemic you hear about on the news at 6 & 11. I spent 3 years, 2 cars, a house, and several relationships with loved ones chasing my DOC. Until one day I decided that enough was enough and began what some will call my “Unconventional” rehab at my older brother's house. I was about 6 months into my recovery before I had my first successful suicide attempt. It was just after my wife of now almost thirty years, and I argued over something I think we both have since forgotten about. When out of anger she asked me to go play in traffic or swallow the pills my doctor prescribed for me to help deal with the anxiety that comes with recovery. Now as strange as this may sound those words were music to my ears and I did exactly what she asked me to do and swallowed 145 of the valium I had laying around. After calling her bluff I laid down on the couch and waited to finally die ending the battle that was continuously going on in my head.

I only remember a few things from that day. Fighting with the friendly police officers who were trying to get me to the ambulance that had just arrived, grabbing the hand of an EMT who was trying to get me into the hospital, and finally waking up in the ICU with tubes and needles coming out from everywhere. Once I realized where I was, I started pulling out those tubes and needles so I could leave and finish what I had started. I was quickly stopped by one of the nurses on the floor who placed me back in bed before strapping me to it. I stayed that way for about 3 days before being moved to the special floor where they send folks who try to end their tomorrow. For the next three weeks or so I made sure to follow all the rules and requirements the hospital had laid out for me so, I could leave and maybe just maybe smooth things over with the love of my life. But instead, all I got was a restraining order from the love of my delivered to me by a couple of friendly officers who were waiting for me to check out.
Heartbroken and frustrated I went to the nurse to get the clothes I was wearing when I first checked into the hospital so I could finally scratch tomorrow of my list of things to do that week. After digging around in the back of the closet-size room she was in the nurse handed me a plastic trash bag that was supposed to have all my clothes in it except my bag was missing a shirt. Now even more frustrated than before I asked the nurse where the hell my shirt was. While grinning a grin I still today can’t get out of my head, the nurse looked at me and said, “So sorry about your shirt we had to cut it off you so we could shock you back to life since you died on the way here let me find you another shirt”.

I don’t know how it happened or even why but for some reason, that nurse's grin changed me. It may have been because it was the same grin, I had seen on my dad's who had recently passed face many times before as a way of telling me “we're not done with you yet”.

After getting picked up at the hospital from an old friend. I spent the next several weeks couch surfing before making my way to North Carolina where I lived in a friend's trailer for two years. Making sure to cut myself off from everything I had become comfortable with and in 2015 I started my own skateboard company called Crucial Skate company where I am the only graphic artist allowing me to live my passions of skateboarding and art.

I was also able to smooth things over with the love of my life and we have just celebrated 29 years of marriage. I have mended some of those relationships with loved ones I lost during my addiction while others I just had to let go of. My goal hopefully is to maybe show the other side of addiction no one talks about until after the funeral of a loved one that lost the battle. Hopefully, you get a chance to read my poorly written book and it makes you laugh, cry, and everything in between since that’s how an addict feels every day.


Once again thanks for visiting my site
your friend in recovery