Sunday, January 27, 2019

Withdrawing from Withdrawal - The Language of Addiction Matters

I wrote this essay for The Partnership for Drug-Free Kids in November of 2017.  My essay and the links provided by The Partnership give a useful guide as to how we discuss and write about addiction.  I am guilty of some of the transgressions described.  We all need to learn and change.

Thursday, January 17, 2019

Anatomical Donation - A Family Story

In December of 2012, we made an anatomical donation of William's body to Columbia University's College of Physicians and Surgeons.  As William was more or less a peer of the medical students in the anatomy lab, his body was not used in that lab out of consideration of the effect it might have on peers still alive.  It took some time to discover exactly how his body was used. We ultimately found out after being interviewed by the writer of the article below.  You can learn about our story here.  Be sure to go to the end of the 2018 article to read an essay of mine.

Opioids:  How We Got Here, Where We Go From Here

William is used as an example of healthy tissue throughout this manual.

Thursday, November 8, 2018

Two Letters to the Editor Re Addiction

Inspired by my wife, Margot Head, she alone and the two of us together have had two letters published in the New York Times this year. Follow the links below to learn what we had to say.

Margot Head 
Urgent Care Centers for Addicts

Margot Head/Bill Williams
Smarter Ways To Fight Opioid Addiction

Monday, October 29, 2018

The Storm Inside

Five years ago this essay ran in the New York Times.  I miss my boy as much still.  Our fight is not over,

Friday, October 19, 2018

Saving Our Children

The Addiction Institute of Mount Sinai Hospital in NYC and the Center on Addiction @CntrOnAddiction hosted a panel discussion on innovative approaches to treating addiction in young adults on 10/11. The two groups are joining forces to develop evidence-based screening, preventive practices, and treatment specifically tailored to young people. Moderated by Justin Luke Riley, president of Young People In Recovery, panelists were Dr. Yasmin Hurd, Director of the Addiction Institue of Mount Sinai, Dr. Charles Neighbors, director of health services at the Center on Addiction, and yours truly. Here's the video of the event. I was in the company of some very smart people. It's worth your time to hear what they had to say. Go here for the first part. Download for the full video.

Friday, September 28, 2018


The U.S. National Library of Medicine (NLM) has selected my blog for inclusion in the Library’s web archive collections as part of its mission to collect, preserve, and make available to the public materials that provide information in medicine and public health, and document their histories. 

They published a post recently about the collecting effort in their National Library of Medicine Blog called Circulating Now. Take a look here:
Here’s the link to my blog: 

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Thoughts on the Serenity Prayer

I was recently invited to be a guest speaker at an Al-Anon meeting.  No surprise, the meeting was held in a basement room, several stories below street level. 

As a father who lost his son, William, at age 24, to an accidental heroin overdose close to six years ago, I was perhaps a discomforting guest for people working to bring some calm to lives distressed by family members suffering from substance use disorder; people hopeful their loved ones find a path to recovery.

Yet, my message was one of hope.  I began and ended with a line from Shakespeare, “Action is eloquence.”  I shared our family’s story, including the promise we made to William at his memorial service.  “We promise to do everything in our power to educate and inform people about drug abuse and its prevention, to provide ever more enlightened treatment for addicts, to help make treatment options for addicts more readily available, and to remove the stain of shame surrounding this disease.”

I was able to share my own Al-Anon experience and to explain and answer questions about the advocacy work we’ve been able to accomplish since William’s death.  I suggested books to read, online resources that might prove useful, organizations doing remarkable work and providing assistance, answered questions, and provided my own contact information. I was subtlety, or perhaps not so subtlety, encouraging people to be enterprising in altering their personal dilemmas and the larger addiction epidemic that confronts our nation.  We can and must support one another not only in day-to-day difficulty but also in effecting change for the greater good.  The meeting closed with the Serenity Prayer.  “God grant me the serenity To accept the things I cannot change….” 
 Despite after-meeting conversations and multiple offers to be of assistance, hugs and handshakes, I’ve yet to hear from anyone at that meeting other than a thank you from the leader/organizer.  

A few days later I had a revelatory talk with a lifelong friend.  His young adult son has had a self-defeating substance use issue for several years. Through reading, research and reflection, my friend has come to realize that parental drug testing and ever more harsh punishment were yielding nothing more than deceit and evasion while doing nothing to positively alter his son’s behavior.  My friend abandoned punishment as coercion, got his son to agree to counseling and attended sessions with his son.  Together they are now both learning how to work toward the son’s recovery from a stubborn but not insurmountable disease. I admire my friend’s loving and proactive response.  

While contemplating these two experiences I was drawn back to the Serenity Prayer.  I had difficulty with it as a parent at Al-Anon meetings and my misgivings returned.  I lean heavily toward the eloquence of action, as opposed to praying and waiting for a gift of serenity. I fear that the prayer invites passivity and dependence. It relieves one of responsibility. Serenity comes as a result of action taken, not as a precursor to action.  

When I think of the leaders I admire most in the addiction advocacy and recovery movement, I am struck first by how many are themselves in sustained recovery. Then I am impressed by the boldness, strength, dedication and persistence of the actions they have taken and continue to take in their work. They are shining examples of courage and wisdom; wisdom acquired no doubt through trial and error.

More recently I came across this sign from a demonstration.  I know not where nor the circumstances of its employment.  The message, however, is loud and clear. I am not alone in my thinking.  Is this not only a sign, but a signpost directing us ahead?

As we continue to combat the opioid epidemic and the larger addiction epidemic that surrounds it, we need to remind ourselves that change is an ongoing process. We need courage to initiate the process and wisdom to assess the results and guide our next steps.

For me that includes a personal prayer:

Grant me the courage to change the things I cannot accept, the wisdom to know how to go about it, and the fulfillment that comes with accomplishment.

As I mulled over my thoughts on the prayer, I conversed with one of the recovery/advocacy leaders I admire so much.  She responded this way:  “What I have discovered in my journey is that prayer keeps me from bulldozing my will onto a situation that may need a more nuanced approach. The Serenity Prayer doesn’t relieve me of personal responsibility. It calls upon me to be responsible in how I act. It opens up the door to clarity so that I am not bloodying my head by banging it against a wall that will not move. It allows me to look for ways around an obstacle in my path and find the way forward.”

Her wise response is a reminder to me that, just as there are many paths to recovery, so too are there many paths to bringing about lasting change. We each need to discover and arrange the mix of courage, serenity, and wisdom that works best for us.  It is not a fixed formula for all of us or each of us.  We need to be prepared to titrate the mix for given situations.  What we always need, the fragile vessel that contains us so we can be effective, is each other.