‘I have a lot I want to do and try, but for sure I just want to figure out how to be happy. It’s about time.’

Plainview

“My family life was very chaotic. I never knew what school I’d end up in, or who I’d be living with. There was violence. I never knew when I’d be moving again. I managed to cope with it all through my passions like singing, acting and writing. I figured out it could help me, and then in the future, help others.

“I always enjoyed performing, but my parents never told me growing up I could just sign up for a school play or chorus. Once I got into middle school, I figured out that I could try out for the school show, and I got the lead. But when I came home, my mom thought I was lying. Middle school ended as the problems in my household were peaking.

“A family friend saw this and found a program where I could travel and get an education. I spent two years at a school in the south, which also involved mission trips to Jamaica. We were working with disabled children, abused orphans; I even remember a girl with cigarette burns all over her. I was 15 to 16 years old at the time, and it made me a different human. When I returned home things had gotten a lot better.

I ended up founding Drama for Disorder, a nonprofit where adolescents dealing with personal problems can have a safe space to express themselves.

“My dad said, ‘there’s hope, you’re going to find a college and you’re going to pursue whatever you want.’ He helped guide me to the Long Island High School for the Arts, which I joined as a junior. I took a course called ‘Activism and Performance,’ and it was inspiring to learn I could use originality toward creating change. I knew I wanted to do that.

“I ended up founding Drama for Disorder, a nonprofit where adolescents dealing with personal problems can have a safe space to express themselves. I’m also part of a band, and while my parents both have seen me, it’s my dad who has made the effort.

“One time while on stage, I saw him help sell our band’s T-shirts for us, and that’s an image I want to keep. I can’t say I forgive him for my hectic childhood, although maybe without that I wouldn’t be who I am today. It was beautiful, to see him really trying and supporting me.

“I got into the NYU Tisch School of the Arts, where I’m an acting major, but also double majoring in musical performance. I have a lot I want to do and try, but for sure I just want to figure out how to be happy. It’s about time.”

Interviewed by Ian J. Stark

‘I was crazy. I ran 90 miles across Long Island over three days and we raised $38,000 for the Long Island Alzheimer’s and Dementia Center.’

Plainview

“My grandmother, Ann Asparro, was living with Alzheimer’s for about four years. She was at Parker Jewish Nursing home and, every Sunday, I would go and have breakfast with her. Alzheimer’s is an awful disease. A majority of the time, I would say something and then she would just repeat herself over and over. I could tell she had no clue who I was. I felt uncomfortable, so I would stay for 10 minutes, and I would leave.

“Then I said, ‘you know what, if I was in this situation, she would be with me every day, all day.’ So, I went back the next day, and each time I would stay a little longer. I said, ‘I got to do something different. I got to do something more.’ This disease is awful. I’m going to honor her and the person she was and really try to create a platform to talk all about Alzheimer’s. In 2016, I decided to do these extreme runs to raise awareness for Alzheimer’s and honor my grandmother. It was crazy to run across Long Island.

There are days when I don’t want to get out of bed and run. Those days I just think about the caregivers. I got to do it for them.

“Everyone called me crazy. I was crazy. But I trained hard and at the end of that year, I ran 90 miles across Long Island over three days and we raised $38,000 for the Long Island Alzheimer’s and Dementia Center. I started this ultra-distance run because I wanted to heal my own family. But soon other families would come up to me and say, ‘I’m going through this. Thank you so much for what you’re doing,’ and I understood this was so much bigger than my own family.

“The next year, I ran 75 miles in two days honoring what would have been my grandparents’ 75th wedding anniversary. In 2018, I decided to do an Ironman, which involves a 2.4-swim, a 112-mile bike, and a marathon all in one day. About 1 percent of the population completes one a year. I didn’t know how to swim. I figured caregivers don’t necessarily know how to be a caregiver, but they show up every day. So, I said, ‘Let me take this challenge on. I’ll teach myself how to swim,’ and I did.

“I showed up to the Iron Man and there were 2,000 other people getting in the water at the same time as me. I trained for seven months, and my race was over within 45 minutes. Someone’s elbow hit me in the back of the head as I was taking a breath, so I ingested all this lake water and I started vomiting. I was embarrassed and uncomfortable and I didn’t know what to do. I just thought about the caregivers. I bet the caregivers feel embarrassed. They set out to do so many things within their day and it just gets ruined because they need to take care of someone with Alzheimer’s or dementia.

“Instead of thinking internally about how bad my day was, I thought about the caregivers of people, so I grabbed my running shoes and ran a marathon on my own that day. I don’t need to be in the race. I’m not going to stop. I’m going to keep training and I’m going to show the caregivers that I understand your life gets flipped upside down. My race got flipped upside down. This is a reflection of what you do.

“I went back six weeks later, I got in that water, and nobody hit me or kicked me, and I did a half Iron Man. I thought I was done running and then my grandmother passed away in April 2019. We got so close to raising $100,000 in donations that I said I would run 100 miles on a track to try and get to that mark. It took me 29 hours to complete, and I didn’t sleep.

“There are days when I don’t want to get out of bed and run. Those days I just think about the caregivers. I got to do it for them. It’s the days when it’s the most difficult and your body hurts when the progress happens. It gets daunting. I have a full-time job. I have an 8-year-old and a 5-year-old. I coach their soccer teams and people help me a lot but it’s hard to get involved. I’m constantly thinking about training every single day.

“Mentally wise, I’ve been preparing for this since January. But I am 42 years old now, so my body’s getting a little worn down. I am going to run 100 miles from the Montauk Lighthouse to the Long Island Alzheimer’s and Dementia Center in Westbury on Oct. 2 and 3. As of right now, we have raised close to $27,000.”

Interviewed by Melanie Gulbas

‘I want to tell my story because I’m not a cockroach. Even as a drug addict, I was worth more than that.’

Plainview

“I didn’t start out as a drug addict. I was a scholarship athlete and I went to culinary school. Then I had an accident in 1994 and had numerous operations. The doctors put me on painkillers. Afterwards, I knew I needed to be on them because they made me happy and allowed me not to think about my childhood. For the next 25 years, drugs became my safety net. I was being prescribed between 650 and 800 pills each month.

“Despite that, I never thought I was a drug addict. How could I be one? I have opened restaurants and been a chef in numerous restaurants. I had a doctor writing these prescriptions. I thought I was not a drug addict because addicts are people that you see begging for money with needles sticking out of their arms. I was not like that. I decided to get clean when I ran out of pills and called a friend to bring OxyContin. She came with a white bag saying it was OxyContin chopped up. After snorting it, I called her and discovered it was Fentanyl. I knew then that I was in trouble. I needed to get clean because it would all be downhill from there.

I think the stigma of drug addicts is wrong. Somebody told me that drug addicts are like cockroaches; I will never forget that somebody put me in the same category as a cockroach.

“On July 22, I will have been clean for four years. I have been with my wife for 20 years and she would say, ‘I know you’re in there somewhere. I just have to find a way to get you out.’ I think the stigma of drug addicts is wrong. Somebody told me that drug addicts are like cockroaches; I will never forget that somebody put me in the same category as a cockroach. I’m an established woman living on Long Island and I helped raise my wife’s three kids, so I have to be doing something right. Now, my relationship with my children is amazing.

“They know my struggles and they talk to me about them. I want to tell my story because I’m not a cockroach. Even as a drug addict, I was worth more than that. Addicts are good people, we just have a disease, and fortunately some people are strong enough to walk away from it. It took me so many overdoses, failures and withdrawals to get this right. You have to want to be clean. This will always be a part of my life. My liver and pancreas are failing. I’m 53 and I don’t want to die. I’m not ready to go, but if my story gets out and it can help one person, then it’s been worth it.”