“Healing on Two Wheels” Shared by: Julian Knox, Former Addict & Bike Courier (UK) Category: #Healing The first time I rode a bike after rehab, I vomited halfway through the ride and cried like a kid behind a pub. It wasn’t physical pain. It was shame. You see, when you’ve lived years numbing every feeling—joy, guilt, hunger, grief—having your heart pound naturally feels… foreign. Like your body is rebooting from inside out. I was 29 when I finally admitted I needed help. I’d been living out of a friend’s car in East London, jobless, washed out, stealing painkillers from pharmacy counters just to feel something close to human. My sister had blocked my number. My mum, bless her, still left voicemails every Sunday, reading Bible verses she hoped I’d hear. I hit rock bottom the night I nearly overdosed in a McDonald’s bathroom. It was a janitor—of all people—who saved me. Called an ambulance. Held my hand. Whispered, “Not like this, son. Not like this.” After two months in...