01:00 AM EDT on Tuesday, June 6, 2006

Rep. Patrick Kennedy may have a magic touch with voters, but the stark reality of his speech and press conference yesterday was that he is no miracle worker.

The 38-year-old Democrat with mental illness and alcohol and abuse problems made a dramatic return from the Mayo Clinic. But he did not pronounce himself cured nor pledge there will never be a recurrence of such bizarre behavior as a middle-of-the-night car crash, a Los Angeles airport incident or a controversial boat cruise.

"I can't make that promise," he told reporters. "This is a disease of one day at a time, and anybody who's ever been in a program of recovery understands that your biggest liability in the program is to begin to project into the future so far in advance that you lose perspective of the day that you're in."

Kennedy did vow to fight doggedly against his demons, to try to erase the stigma attached to people with problems like his and to require insurers to treat these ailments the same as other diseases.

Addressing a Brown University behavioral health conference -- which he helped sponsor -- Kennedy noted the support he's gotten from Rhode Islanders and others during his crisis. He said of his struggle, "To fail would be to betray myself, but also it would be to betray the people who have so graciously reached out to me when they could have easily dismissed and condemned me."

Kennedy's voice was strong, his hands chopping the air and he occasionally joked. In introducing him, Kids Count executive director Elizabeth Burke Bryant referred to an ad in yesterday's newspaper expressing admiration for Kennedy and signed by people in the mental health and substance abuse treatment community, many of whom were on hand. She called it "this welcome back message from The Providence Journal." Kennedy evoked laughter by interjecting, "I don't think it's from The Providence Journal -- it's from you, right?" He said it'd be "big news" if the paper sprung for it.

Kennedy momentarily dashed down from the stage to embrace Rep. Jim Langevin in his wheelchair. I could hear Langevin say, "Welcome home."

Democratic Senate candidate Sheldon Whitehouse found Kennedy, his campaign co-chairman, "incredibly poised" and "thoughtful." Party chairman Bill Lynch said it was a good sign that the congressman did not overpromise. For someone battling what Kennedy is battling, Lynch said, "One of the most important things you can do is to acknowledge that there is no finish line."

I applaud Kennedy's openness. I'd be devastated to be in his shoes, appalled to have to discuss it, dismayed -- if asked if I'd had trouble with drinking -- to be forced to reply, "I have trouble with anything mood altering." Still, I note that he remains guarded about several details, such as the exact nature of his Mayo diagnosis. He says he's entitled to some privacy.

I also know that some folks will never give him a break. When I wrote a sympathetic May 6 column about him, my e-mails denounced him as "a flawed, creepy child" and asked, "Are you on the same stuff as your congressman?"

Kennedy said he's always had critics, but in this case he suggested it was also a case of people making unfortunate moral judgments. He wondered if they'd have said the same things if his car crash had been caused by going into a diabetic shock. "I don't think they would, because they would see that as something different."

He was delighted by his visit to Brown. He told me he welcomed the chance to unburden himself. "I felt great," he said. "Listen, this is the biggest monkey off my back."

M. Charles Bakst is The Journal's political columnist.

mbakst@projo.com / (401) 277-7638