When My Brother Chris Farley Died, I Started Telling His Story. But I Was Hiding My Own.

"One of the hardest parts of my life was watching my brother Chris battle substance abuse, eventually leading to his tragic death."

My story starts in Madison, Wisconsin, where I grew up in a close-knit family. For us, laughter was the biggest constant, but alcohol was never very far behind.

Though it may not come as a shock that a boisterous Irish family from Wisconsin had some issues with drinking, it all seemed normal at the time. It was a part of the Farley fabric.

Later, as a student at Georgetown University in Washington, I was oblivious to the problems drinking began to usher into my life. In college, there was no distinction between the school week and the weekend. Every night was Friday night, and I could always find a drinking buddy.

I was surrounded by extremely intelligent people, and I felt like I just didn’t belong there. As the feelings of self-doubt and fear grew, the only way I could manage them was to drink.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t the only Farley who was hiding darkness and loneliness under a friendly exterior. One of the hardest parts of my life was watching my brother Chris battle substance abuse, eventually leading to his tragic death.