OCTOBER 2, 2026 THINK ABOUT IT The life I fought for DAVID CRANE Groundcover contributor I knew in 2009 that I needed to get to Ann Arbor. I was 27 years old and nowhere near ready to change my life. I liked partying. I liked drinking. I wasn't looking for the person I would eventually become. But I found my way to Spera, back when it was on High Street, and something about the recovery community in Ann Arbor stayed with me. I wasn't ready for recovery, but somehow I knew where I needed to be when I was. I came back in 2015 after my fourth DUI. Again, I saw something here that I hadn't found anywhere else: people, resources and a community that seemed to believe a person could actually change. I didn't change then. It took another eight years. In 2023, I finally found my way to Ann Arbor for good. I had learned that I could use the shelter as an address and establish residency in Washtenaw County. I wish I had known that sooner. By the time I arrived, I was newly sober and entering homelessness. Some people around me thought that was a terrible plan. They weren't entirely wrong. Trying to get sober while becoming homeless is not exactly the conventional route to stability. But the decision had already been made. For the first time in my life, there wasn't anyone coming to take care of me. That terrified me. It also forced me to find out what I was capable of. That turned out to be about more than alcohol. I had to confront my codependency too. I had spent years depending on people, relationships and circumstances that weren't necessarily good for me. I finally learned that I couldn't keep giving my life away and calling it loyalty. Codependency can disguise itself as loyalty. So I started learning how to stand on my own. I'm still learning that standing on my own doesn't mean I have to do everything alone. I walked everywhere. I went to meetings. I worked on my health. I learned the resources. I learned the community. I pushed myself harder than I probably needed to, sometimes, because discipline was something I could control. Slowly, I started recognizing myself. Then, on December 8, 2025, I got the keys to my spot. I had come to Ann Arbor with the clothes on my back and a backpack. Eventually I got my belongings back, including old journals, workbooks, books and little things that probably wouldn't mean much to anybody else. I put them in my apartment. I made the place mine. For the first time, I had somewhere I actually wanted to come home to. And something strange happened. I started to calm down. Not completely. My life is still fragile. I still have problems that can have very real consequences. Housing, income, health care and the systems connected to them can all affect one another. I am not independent. I am not completely stable. I'm stable for now. And I'm learning what that actually means. When something goes wrong now, I try to analyze my options. I look for support if there is any. I have time to think things through instead of immediately reacting on impulse. Bad news can be bad news without being the death of me. That's a major change. I still get reactive sometimes. I'm still learning. I still have fears about what could happen, including the possibility of losing the apartment I've worked so hard to build a life around. But I don't automatically assume everything will fall apart anymore. I've learned that I can pause. I can think. I can advocate for myself. I can make a plan. Maybe something will go wrong tomorrow. Maybe I'll have to navigate another catastrophe. But I'm beginning to understand that I don't have to live inside the catastrophe before it happens. That's something stability has taught me. So has loneliness. I enjoy my peace and my solitude, but I'm lonely too. I'm not going to romanticize that. Loneliness hurts. But peaceful loneliness is different from desperate loneliness. For years, when loneliness became unbearable, I drank. I was always drinking, and eventually I couldn't tell the difference between escaping loneliness and escaping myself. Now I can be alone without having to escape myself. Maybe that's one of the greatest things that stability has given me. I can sit at my desk and work on an article about my life while Netflix plays in the background. I can prepare ingredients for fried rice because I enjoy making it. Nothing dramatic is happening. It's just an ordinary evening. And somehow, ordinary feels extraordinary. I don't know exactly what I'm building toward yet. My goals keep changing. I don't have some perfect five-year plan. But I'm goal-oriented now. I'm learning that I like the person I am. I want to find somewhere to put everything I've learned. I want to be in a position to help other people recognize their own value. And I want to be in a position to be there for the people I love when they need me. I don't know exactly what the future looks like. But I know I want one. I'm not trying to build a life that I'm afraid to lose. I'm building something I value without believing I'll be destroyed if I lose it. I am building a life that I love while simultaneously rebuilding myself strong enough to rebuild if I ever have to. That's a different kind of stability. It doesn't mean nothing will ever go wrong again. It means I don't have to believe that everything I've built is meaningless if something does. I spent most of my life preparing for disaster. Now I'm learning how to prepare for life. I'm not finished. I don't have everything figured out. I am not independent, and I don't know exactly what comes next. But I have grown enormously since moving into this apartment. I'm stable for now. And for the first time in my life, I'm beginning to understand that “for now” doesn't have to mean “until everything falls apart.” GROUNDCOVER NEWS 15 voting INFORMATION MICHIGAN’S GENERAL ELECTION IS TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 3. September 24: First day that you can vote in person, with an absentee ballot at your city/township clerk’s office. October 19: Last day to register to vote online or by mail. WHO CAN VOTE? Voters must be U.S. citizens, at least 18 years old, and must have lived in the city/township in which they registered for 30 days. Voters cannot be serving a sentence in jail or prison at the time of registering or voting. REGISTRATION If you have a Michigan driver's license or state ID, you can regsiter to vote online. Start the process at Michigan.gov/Vote. You can register any time up through Election Day by going to your city or township clerk's office; bring your proof of residency. Ann Arbor: 301 E. Huron St. Pittsfield Township: 6201 W Michigan Ave, Ann Arbor Ypsilanti: 1 S. Huron St. Ypsilanti Township: 7200 S. Huron River Drive, Ypsilanti VOTING WHILE HOMELESS In addition to an ID (or filling out an affidavit), you need to provide a mailing address so the state of Michigan can send you important voting information by mail. The mailing address does not have to be a fixed home address. Consider using a nearby shelter, even if you do not currently live there, a nearby religious center or a home address of a friend or family member who lives nearby.
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