Sometimes the best advice comes when readers seek insight not in questions about themselves or their problems, but in querying me about my own experiences. This hit home in a recent letter from a 14-year-old boy.

Dear Mr. Moyers: I want to know what it was like to fall in the peer pressure of drugs and why you did. I know people always say to stay away from drugs, and I know to say no, but I want to know what it felt like to be asked. Were you nervous, anxious and scared? Being drug-free is very important to me, and I want to know how it feels to be a recovered addict. How often are you reminded of the days you spent wasting your life being high and out of it? Are you happier now that you know you have conquered something many people cannot? What do your kids think about your story of addiction? — Tyrell Mailloux from Billings, Mont.

Dear Tyrell: I admire the depth and breadth of your inquisitiveness. It spans the gamut of my life's experiences, from being a teenager in the 1970s to long-term recovery 30 years later.

Indeed, I felt a lot of peer pressure to try marijuana. I was 16, and an older man offered it to me when I was working a summer job. I wanted to be like him, or so I thought — older, "cool" and part of his crowd. I had the same feelings when I drank my first beer at a high-school party. I hated the taste. But I liked what alcohol did to me and for me, which was to feel better about myself. Besides, back then, we did not talk openly at home or at school about the dangers of experimenting with mood- and mind-altering substances, illegal or legal. So I was never really scared or anxious because I didn't think it was bad — except that I did not want to get caught. Never did I consider that my casual experimentation would lead me down into the abyss of despair and almost death. I became addicted in part because my mind and body don't process alcohol and other drugs as most people's minds and bodies do. For about 10 percent of us, those substances hijack our brains and steal our souls.

Addiction inexorably changed my life. So did recovery, and today it is liberating to be clean and sober since 1994. I cannot imagine living my life any other way. Not a day passes that I don't remind myself of how fortunate I was to get treatment for my illness. But in looking back, I do have a lot of sadness and regret over the irrevocable loss of time; I spent those formative teenage and young-adult years trying to get high or stay high or dealing with the consequences of my drug use. But as long as I use those experiences to help other people like me and their families, then I don't count all those days as being wasted. That's why I am grateful to be where I am today.

And what about my kids? Henry is a little older than you. Thomas is your age, and Nancy is not far behind. They all know my story and their mother's, too, as my wife Allison is also in long-term recovery. We don't hide our past from our children because we want them to understand what can happen when teenagers experiment with drugs. It is important that they — like you — know that being drug-free is an asset as a teenager. But we also want them to know that if they choose to smoke pot or drink a beer and they develop a problem, it is OK to ask for help. Our kids admire their parents' commitment to recovery. They are proud of us, too.

Thank you, Tyrell, for your letter. I only wish other teens like you were willing to be so forthright when it comes to alcohol and other drugs.

William C. Moyers is the vice president of external affairs for the Hazelden Foundation and the author of "Broken," a best-selling memoir. The paperback edition was released in August 2007. Please send your questions to William Moyers at William@WilliamMoyers.com. To find out more about William Moyers and read his past columns, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

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