I hallucinated [about] having all these interventions. I was seeing people enter my apartment, sit down on my sofa, and try to intervene because they were so concerned about me. Ends up no one ever did that, no one was ever there. Well, until Johnny Knoxville really did hold an intervention.
How'd that go down?
I lived in this crazy apartment, and I got evicted. I had a three-day eviction notice, two days before my intervention. So after Knoxville and the guys came and locked me up in the psyche ward, they moved me out of my apartment and put everything in a storage unit. So I had no apartment to return to, which was great. So many people go through rehab then go right back to the environment where they did all the stuff that made them need rehab in the first place. And if you do what you always did, you get what you always got.
So you had a fresh start?
Yeah. For six months, I went from the psyche ward to a treatment center. Then I went to a very private sober-living environment, a half-way house deal. I stayed there until I had two full years of sobriety. I cleaned toilets, shared a bedroom with another dude, peed in a plastic cup twice a week at random — and it was my choice, there wasn't any court order. If I pick up a drink or a drug, I'm fucked. I'm dead. Or I'd be better off dead. So, I don't want to do that. I had to build a strong foundation. (The barber shows up. The dogs begin to bark.) Sorry, I have these rescue dogs and they are so badly behaved. And I'm not exactly the dog whisperer. But everything I criticize them for — they're inconvenient, they're loud, they destroy things — these are all qualities I've had. And people didn't give up on me.