Hillbilly Elegy

it. After so many years of fearing my
own future, of worrying that I’d end up
like many of my neighbors or family—
addicted to drugs or alcohol, in prison,
or with kids I couldn’t or wouldn’t take
care of—I felt an incredible momentum.
I knew the statistics. I had read the
brochures in the social worker’s office
when I was a kid. I had recognized the
look of pity from the hygienist at the
low-income dental clinic. I wasn’t
supposed to make it, but I was doing just
fine on my own.
Did I take it too far? Absolutely. I
didn’t sleep enough. I drank too much
and ate Taco Bell at nearly every meal.
A week into what I thought was just a