What Happens When You Get Better and They Don't

Today’s episode of Beauty in the Break explores a personal and harrowing story from Cesar’s life, where he recently encountered a past version of himself. Through an intimate storytelling conversation, Cesar reflects on reconnecting with a friend still struggling with addiction, sparking a powerful discussion about survivor’s guilt, transformation, boundaries, compassion, and what it means to move forward without leaving empathy behind. This episode offers honest insight into recovery, self-awareness, emotional responsibility, and navigating relationships after profound personal change.

In this episode they explore:

• Survivor’s guilt after personal healing and growth
• When old friendships mirror past versions of ourselves
• Why healing can feel isolating instead of liberating
• Boundaries without abandoning compassion
• Seeing addiction through the lens of compassion and illness

For more stories like this and good companies you can support, sign up for Cesar’s weekly newsletter Insights That Matter. 

If this episode spoke to you, you will love How to Be a Rebel with Dr. Reid Wilson. You can also watch the episodes on YouTube.

If you enjoyed this episode, take a moment to follow Beauty in the Break on your favorite podcast app and leave a review—it really helps!

Reach out to the show—send an email or voice note to beautyinthebreakpod@gmail.com and be sure to follow on Instagram and TikTok. 

Cesar Cardona:

• Receive his newsletter Insights That Matter
• Get guided meditation from Cesar on his website 
• Listen to music from Cesar + The Clew on Apple Music and Spotify

Foster Wilson:

• Buy her poetry book Afternoon Abundance
• Learn about her postpartum services
• Receive her newsletter Foster’s Village

Created & Hosted by: Cesar Cardona and Foster Wilson

Executive Producer: Glenn Milley

This episode is brought to you by Jamaal Pittman. You can donate to his scholarship at Wheelerscholarship.com, supporting college enrollment.

Transcript

Welcome to Beauty in the Break.

Welcome, and wherever you are in the world, we are so happy that you are here with us today.

All right, so today we are doing what we've been calling internally a bridge episode.

Smaller episode that's a little more personal, it's a little more direct to you listening.

A couple of things that we chose to do here is talk about some of the personal things that are really important to us,

but they just weren't big enough to put into a large, long episode.

For example, I write a newsletter weekly. I write two newsletters, actually.

One is some sort of personal story in my life that really impacted me.

I learned a lesson from it, and the lesson I want to share with other people.

Later in the week, I also write one that's about businesses that we can support and put our money to

that are better for the environment, for the world, and all the good things that companies should be doing.

This story here is one of the personal sides.

I remember when you told me what happened here, I immediately told you to write about it.

That's right.

And to kind of commemorate the experience, because it was a lot for you.

Yeah.

So I thought it would be really behoove our listeners to hear this side and this story,

and maybe there's something in it for them.

So I wrote this one maybe two days after the event happened because you told me I should write it down.

And this write-up was called, I Feel Guilty.

So last week, I saw someone online that I knew from my 20s.

And I immediately messaged them for two reasons.

One, I enjoyed their company, even though we did a lot of drugs together.

And two, on their profile, they looked as spiritual as ever.

One pic was of them meditating on a rock.

Since we were both atheists back then, I loved the idea that both of us were becoming spiritual.

So I reached out, regardless of thinking maybe they wouldn't care to talk to somebody from their past,

but they responded with an, oh my God, we need to catch up.

I happened to be available that day, just after a doctor's appointment.

That was for my usual checkups.

But today, in my life being sober, my diet being plant-based,

my workouts are kickboxing and weightlifting, my mind is meditated,

and my thoughts to myself were kind, I feel better than ever.

So all my vitals were great, and I head to this old friend's place.

As soon as I walked into his place, I realized what a misstep I made.

Aside from the five to seven dogs rushing in and out of the door,

the entire place was a mess.

There was dog feces smeared all on the floor, trash strewn everywhere,

windows and blinds broken, no covers on the furniture or the bedding.

Someone in the back of the house was using a leaf blower in their room,

and this friend's face was deep in addiction.

Their teeth were loose, their jaw was slacked, and their eyes were exhausted.

They turned to me and said, I need to shower.

And they walked me through their room,

to the bathroom in their room.

And fully clothed in hot, steamed water,

they jumped in the shower and told me to stand there and talk to them.

They were wearing a corset and knee-high boots in the shower.

How are you?

How are you?

Is what they asked me.

Now, usually I'm pretty ready to have that conversation about the things I've been up to.

But I couldn't really feel comfortable expressing how amazing things have been in my life.

So I just said, I'm doing really great.

I'm in the best place of my life.

How about you?

Meanwhile, the leaf blower in the other room got louder.

The dogs barked more and more.

And since we were in close quarters, I could smell the drug use on this person's skin and breath as they told me vague parts about their life.

Then, through the weariness of their eyes and the imbalance in their stance, they looked at me in a moment of clarity and said,

You look really great.

And I said, thank you.

But I got uncomfortable, so I said, I'm going to wait outside.

There was nowhere I felt comfortable sitting.

Cocaine spread across a table, under a broken box, next to a purple chair that seemed to be covered in a multitude of dust, grime, and fur.

Now, I was calm on the outside, but inside, I had thoughts racing.

What was my intention here?

What if they just need company, like I did in my drug days?

Who else is in this place?

But then I had a thought that came across my mind that spoke over all of those thoughts.

It said, Caesar, this is how people die.

Now, this friend was erratic, and their words and movements were completely unpredictable.

And whoever the person was in the leaf blower room was clearly unstable.

So I started thinking of a way to get out of there to leave,

because I started having these flashes in my mind of all of the things that I've built,

who I've become,

and what if I lost it all from just being here.

My God, it's all so fragile when you think about it.

I thought of all the things I've done, that I'm doing, I thought of them all just stopping.

After thinking of that dread for a little bit, I thought about my partner, our kids,

my mother and sister, and my fathers,

all of them having to carry that feeling of my growth being stopped,

knowing that my life was cut short.

I slowly walked myself across the room, over the broken door that laid down across the doorway,

down the stairs with shattered glass glittering down the way, and I walked out of the door.

Now, the next morning, I woke up with deep guilt.

Not guilt from leaving unannounced, but guilt from getting healthy.

Because he's not the only friend I've seen be this erratic, and out of behavior, and lost in their eyes.

I grew up with some of these people.

Some of them were, for instance, kindergarten.

And when I moved to LA, I met people like this.

Every single time I see these people, I think to myself,

how did I get out?

How did I get to be so lucky?

And I feel guilty for that.

As I began to express this to my mother that next morning, I started crying.

Why do I get to wake up feeling grateful while others are still struggling?

Why does my mother get to rest a little better than their mothers?

As a kid, during my worst times, I would ask myself the question,

what did I do to deserve this?

Now, I'm asking myself the same question from the other side of the coin.

Today, I will text him.

I will tell them the reason I left abruptly, expressing my worries for them.

I'll tell them I want to connect them with people who can help them navigate out of this,

but I don't know what I'll get in return.

Passiveness?

Rage?

Defense?

Relief?

Whatever it'll be, I'll meet it with truth and kindness.

How does it feel to read that story again?

I hadn't read it in a while, and it brought back some of the memories that I sort of forgot.

The guilt is probably the biggest part.

It still sticks with me to realize that I can sit here right now telling this story,

and I don't know what that person's doing right now.

Is there not a part of you that has some kind of ego that wants to overcome the guilt to be like,

I'm here because I did these things, and they're not in this place because they made different choices?

No.

You have pure guilt?

It's guilt, and then the response to the guilt is intrigue.

I'm a little intrigued on finding out this guilt.

I feel like it's tangled in a lot of things, and I'm trying to untangle the guilt to find out why.

There's no part of me that feels that I can spot that feels, well, because I did the work and because I did this and they haven't.

That's an observation of reality.

But I'm digging into the acknowledgement of, I don't know, emotionality, humanality, humanity, perhaps.

They're able to do the work.

They just haven't.

And before they can get to that point, they might not make it.

Yeah.

And how the hell did I get here?

Do you feel that in other ways?

Do you see that?

Like when you pass somebody unhoused on the street, do you feel the same guilt?

No.

That's a good question.

I don't, actually.

I don't feel that guilt at all.

There are some times where I see unhoused people who look like me are older in their 60s, 70s, looking at me sitting in a Tesla at a red light.

I imagine them thinking, look at this young man doing better than I'm doing, quote unquote better, because of the construct of this society.

But it's not the same.

It doesn't sit with me like that because I'll turn to them and put the window down and I'll talk to them.

Say, hey, how are you doing?

What's going on today?

I hope you're doing well and whatever.

There's a guilt that I feel with the people that I grew up with because I grew up with them because we did the same things together.

So we had some of the same road here.

We had the same tools given to us.

Right.

There's such similarities between you and that person.

And like in the story, this friend of yours is in a close enough place that a similar enough place to where you were at some point.

Right.

That I can familiarize.

And I think to just draw the connection to the doctor's appointment you had right before.

Right.

Can you say a little bit about what happened in the doctor's appointment and how you felt coming out of that?

Oh, thank you for reminding me of that.

I forgot all about that part.

I felt miraculous.

Two years ago, a year and a half ago, I saw my doctor and got blood work done and I hadn't been working out.

I didn't want to work out and I wasn't going to force myself.

And I wasn't eating healthy either.

And I just got out of some depression.

The doctor gave me all of these notes of you got to work on this and your bad cholesterol and good cholesterol and whatever.

I took all those notes and I applied them.

I started eating healthy again.

Thanks a lot to you.

I started working out back into kickboxing.

Everything.

A year later, the doctor's like, this looks, you look amazing.

Everything is great for you.

And he congratulated me and I got a little emotional thinking about how kind and good I've been to myself.

Just to go right to that room, go right to that house and see the opposite, who I was.

It couldn't have been more divinely created for you, of an experience for you.

As your partner, I felt very, I mean, you really thought you were going to die in that place.

You never feel that way.

You know, we're in dangerous, what I call dangerous situations, which is walking along the side of the road where a car at night, where a car could easily hit you.

And I'm very worried about that and you're not worried at all.

So in this, for you to say, I think the words you used to me were, I almost died tonight.

And I couldn't quite understand why you felt that way because your life wasn't threatened in that moment.

But I think you felt very clearly that there was a good chance that something bad could have happened to you in that scenario.

At least that's what your mind told you.

I got it on the other side.

So I was just immediately relieved that you were fine.

And I think I asked you if you would make any different choices going forward about putting yourself in situations like that.

That's right.

You did.

Yep.

And I said, either I'll just connect with people out in a coffee shop or something or have them come to my place and hang out.

It was deceptive of that person.

Online, there was a picture of them meditating on that rock.

And there was a picture of them like in the mirror and they look so spiritual.

And then when I saw them, it was not that at all.

And they were very erratic.

To be a little more specific about the dialogue we had, it was like this.

Like, I'm them, you're me.

So how have you been?

Good, good.

What's been going on?

My life is great.

Good?

That's good to hear.

What have you been doing?

I have a podcast now.

Podcasts are great.

I think I'm going to start a podcast pretty soon.

What kind of podcast is it?

Well, it's called Beauty in the Break.

Why would you call it that?

It was like that.

Yeah.

It was just constantly that and in that same rhythm and everything.

Meanwhile, their eyes are rolling everywhere and they're just out.

And you could hear the aggressiveness of the person with a leaf blower in their bedroom.

When I went to walk down those stairs to leave, I took a peek in the room.

The leaf blower was now officially sitting on the bed that had no covers, no anything.

And they were blowing their carpet around.

You don't need a leaf blower in your house to begin with anyway.

And the amount of aggression and the dogs barking and there was glass everywhere and there was

cocaine and it smelled like smoke of like, not weed smoke and not cigarette smoke.

It smelled chemically.

It was brutal.

The energy of erratic behavior just felt like at any moment you could die.

From them or from somebody coming in the house or from a raid.

I don't know.

Yeah.

Tricky.

But I think this really was, I don't know, the universe telling you, showing you a mirror

of the path not taken or an old self version of you potentially to appreciate where you are

and to know that you still have the ability, that you have the ability to reach back out

a hand to help, that person may or may not take it.

And who knows why you were in their life in that very moment.

They're probably not going to express any of that to you, but just being able to see where

you are could have had, this could all be ordained for that person to just have one little glimpse

of my goodness, how he has turned his life around for the better.

I thought about that when they said you look really good.

It was so lucid for that one moment.

And I was in the bathroom with him.

So I saw myself in the mirror.

I thought I'd been looking at this person for the last, you know, three minutes straight.

And I look and feel amazing.

And that's not a brag.

It's an observation of the duality in that moment.

And I hoped that there's some sort of seed that can be planted for that person.

To find it.

What else happened is when I got home that night and the next morning, I remembered this

scene from Malcolm X.

Denzel Washington plays Malcolm X.

And he already becomes who he has become.

Because before that, he was a drug abuser and he ran the streets.

He robbed houses and ran numbers and sold drugs and all this stuff.

After he became who he became, he went back and reached out and connected with somebody he

used to work with and run the streets with.

And the guy was strung out.

He had to help him up in the chair.

And the guy could barely speak because he had a stroke because of heroin use and blah, blah, blah.

And I thought about that moment.

I felt like Malcolm X in that instance.

I'm clear.

I'm concise.

I'm in complete control of the faculties of who I am.

And that level of guilt really pulled at me in that way.

But the next day when I did message them, they were completely defensive.

Yeah.

What are you talking about?

And I said quite lightly, I noticed some things here.

It may be a little worried.

I'd love to connect you with somebody to help you.

What are you talking about?

And they were like, cleaning lady's on the way right now.

It was kind of rude of you to leave abruptly.

And they were just deflecting and pushing back on somebody.

If you call someone out and they point it back at you, that's a very common tactic of people with issues.

I know how to respond to that.

My response to that is to say, okay, and then stick to what I'm saying.

That way I don't follow them down the rabbit hole.

And then they started getting more and more snippy in their dialogue.

And I said, I can see you're really upset.

I just want to let you know that I will be here for you if you ever need something.

And then I sent the peace emoji.

And they started getting more erratics, like saying things like, I control the world.

And all these things that reminded me, no matter how clear my words sound to me, they don't sound as clear to this person.

But let me just lay this down here and see if seeds can be planted for them somewhere in their journey.

Mm-hmm.

Years from now, what do you think you will remember about this story and what it's done for you in your life?

The first thing I think about is that this is probably not going to be the first time that I experienced something like this.

How can I make sure I exercise the best responses to all of these things?

So when the next time it happens, I can remember and say, I can do this a little better this time as well.

I'll also appreciate how congratulatory I have been to myself by saying good on you for not dipping back into drugs with that person,

for not joining them, for not sitting there, for any of the things that I could have done that were unhealthy.

And then I will always think about this person and hope that they found something in them.

And hopefully, wherever they are, when I think of them in the future,

I hope they found something close to what I found for myself within them.

Mm-hmm.

And probably they have a journey that they are on that does include meditation, spirituality,

or whatever you witnessed in that photo.

I actually would push back on you to say that that's probably not deception.

They're not trying to deceive, I would guess.

Mm-hmm.

I would guess that they are, that is an idyllic version of themselves,

that that's something they want for themselves,

or maybe they've had bits and pieces of it in their life.

Who's to say?

But you didn't get them, didn't get that version of them on that day.

Maybe a different day, you get a different version.

From my vantage point, which is a place of distance,

I have grace for that person who's really wanting that, you know,

who feels that there's something bigger for themselves

and yet isn't able to escape their addiction.

You're right.

You make a really good point because there was a time that I was practicing Buddhism

and then still relapsing.

Mm-hmm.

After four or five days of a bender, I would say to myself, that's okay.

Next time, work at it a little better to not have that happen

until I've gotten to a point now where I don't.

Mm-hmm.

I don't use, I don't drink, I don't any of that.

Maybe they're in that stage.

You're right.

You're right.

Now, thank you for correcting me on that.

You're right.

It's just a bigger perspective that includes what I think and also more.

Yeah.

Yeah, thank you.

And you wouldn't want someone to see you at your worst in your,

the deepest place of addiction for you and assume that that's all of who you are.

Yeah.

Agreed.

There's something in addiction recovery and people who support others who are suffering

from addiction.

I really have learned to try to see the addict as suffering from a monster.

Right.

That they're battling within themselves.

And I wrote about this recently where if I'm able to view addiction like a mental illness,

I'm not saying addiction is a mental illness, but like a mental illness, like an illness

in general, like an affliction, like someone has diabetes or heart disease or cancer, that

that helps me visualize what's happening in their system and then have so much compassion

for the person who is battling this monster inside themselves.

And then I look around at the people in my life who have recovered from addiction and who

are in recovery.

And I have so much infinitely more respect and awe for people who have done that because the

monster doesn't go away.

You're just still working against that.

Sometimes it gets easier, but there's a power there for people who have been able to put the

monster in its right place in your system.

Yeah.

I don't think it ever goes away.

That's for sure.

I don't think any parts of us ever go away.

They just transform and they find different roles or tasks or jobs or whatever.

I would say it's a mental illness, addiction, the inability to remove yourself from something

that has become harmful because of too much of it.

It doesn't have to subscribe to just drugs.

It could be addiction of exercise, too much of it.

You can hurt yourself, too much eating, too much whatever.

Yeah.

I'll hold on to that for a good while.

Still the guilt that it gets me.

I'll always keep going back to that.

What is it that makes me feel the guilt?

I brought it to Facebook as well.

And everybody's ideas and opinions and reasonings didn't touch whatever I'm feeling.

They made sense, but it didn't touch what I was feeling.

And I still don't know what it is that makes me feel guilty.

Well, thank you for sharing that today.

Yeah.

Thanks.

All right, beloved.

Thank you so much.

And please be kind to yourself.

If this episode spoke to you, take a moment and send it to someone else who might need it.

That's the best way to spread these conversations to the people who need them the most.

And if you want to keep exploring with us, make sure to follow Beauty in the Break wherever you get your podcasts.

We'll see you next time.

Beauty in the Break is created and hosted by Foster Wilson and Cesar Cardona.

Our executive producer is Glenn Milley.

Original music by Cesar + the Clew.