I hurt myself today to see if I still feel

I spend a lot of time in prisons talking to men and women about a life of recovery, a life of freedom. Free from the bondage of addiction. Many assume my own journey correlates and in some instances it does, however the link between them and I is a shared experience of pain. It’s looking someone in the eyes, the soul and sharing in a unified experience of pain and suffering. I have my own history and hold it close to my heart as a reminder of the distance I have come. The journey I am on. To never want to hurt; to not impose suffering on myself. Prisons, jails, and institutions are full of suffering, and in the perplexity of addiction, much of this suffering has been created by the sufferer through a series of poor decisions. I understand self imposed suffering. I try to be an example of someone who has struggled through parts of my life and who has made conscious effort to stop make decisions which cause me to suffer. Many do not understand why I would spend time with those incarcerated and what good this may have, and that’s okay. Much of what I do is for me also. To help me understand the distance I have come. The changes I have made. The hurt and suffering which exists. 

B

I Hurt myself today

to see if I still feel

I focus on the pain 

The only thing that's real 

The needle tears a hole

The old familiar sting 

Try to kill it all away 

But I remember everything 

being scared

That day in 1988, the last time I used drugs, I was scared. I didn't understand what I was doing or what I was going to do. I knew and had learned that being in hand cuffs and living in jail cells was something I didn't want to continue doing. I literally had nothing except some drawings, some letters and a few photographs others had sent me. There is very little more demoralizing than being treated like an animal. I hated every second of it. I despised the world and wondered every minute what others where doing. I knew I wanted to try something different and made no promises to anyone. I wanted to disappear from my life. I wanted to start again. I wanted take control of writing the story of my life. I was sick to my stomach listening and reading what others had authored about my character. I had made a plethora of terrible decisions but I wanted to believe I was not a terrible person. I wanted to change my life so people would leave me alone and stop saying negative things about me; I had no clue what that meant or how I was going to do that. 

I have the opportunity to speak to many about recovery, change, and motivation. I get to re-live this moment. To go to a place deep inside myself and remember the fear, the uncomfortableness of my life. I get to feel humbled about my journey. Its easy with the business of my daily life to forget how vulnerable, scared, and fragile I feel at times. I still feel uncomfortable with the world and myself at times. I have come a long way from that person in 1988. And it has not been without mistakes, there has never been any perfection in any of this. I continue to author the story of my life. I am continually surprised when  others say nice things about me. 

I hope this story is a good one for someone to read…

B

“it's harder to make the glass than break the glass"

this week was filled with me making speaking to others. I was invited for my rotation at a prison where I conducted 5 groups with 40-50 inmates in each. that’s a lot of guys, and a lot of me talking. I spoke about learning, listening, coping skills, utilizing skills learned while in prison to have a life in recovery, a life free of the consequences of addiction and institutions…FREE. I was asked dozens of questions of how to make it, how did I make it. People looking for an answer, the answer. Unfortunately answers that a person must find on their own path. Generally I fond most people want the straight, honest answer even when it hurts. Somehow I have been blessed with the opportunity to be the bearer of this type of truth. A truth that means it’s hard, it hurts, it’s hard work. I don't believe that others don't know this, I believe that we want the easier softer way to deal with ourselves and the world.  Some people in prisons want the easier softer way, they want the answer, the fix. 

I ended my week speaking to a group of high school students about my life. That’s always a personal challenge, a place to grow. During that presentation I have to scrape the dirt off of graves I dug many years ago, expose my imperfections, admit my faults, stand in front of strangers and tell some of my secrets. Honestly admit that I am imperfect. Acknowledge my blessings and the belief that I don't know why. I loved speaking with the high school kids and they asked great questions…some of which I had no answer…which is okay.

In both speaking situations I was humbled, I admitted I do not have the answers, but I explained that the it’s harder to make the glass that break the glass…this is my life.

B

Everyone has a story...

I have several speaking engagements coming up and sometimes I am amazed anyone would want to hear me talk. I never considered myself a “public” speaker and really have spent much of my life very shy and somewhat reserved. I learned that to accomplish anything I would need to step out of my comfort zone and engage others. I was asked several years ago to tell “my story” at a private luncheon and I had never spoken open and honestly with a room of strangers about the person who I used to be and the journey I have been on. I believed my recovery, my story were things I should be ashamed of, to hide, to only share in the company of others with similar stories. I have challenged myself to make my recovery, my journey a source of pride. If I were a survivor of any other disease I would wear my pride on my sleeve. There are many things I don't understand about myself, but I have faith and hope. I don't understand why I have been blessed with the opportunity to have an audience to listen to me. My story is not that different than others’, but it’s my story…everyone has story.
B

an examination of ego

Humility. Humble. Accoutability. Power. How does one learn Humility? Can it be taught? and what does it have to do with Power. Accountability is a value, trait most of us are taught at an early age. But how accountable do we keep ourselves? and what does accountability have to do with power. I try to live my life with humility. I acknowledge my wrong doings and try to repair any harm they have caused. I try to practice the ideal “not have everything I want, but want everything I have”. I keep myself accountable. I have very little interest in power and believe in giving power to others, empowerment. 

But I am human and I have ego. And ego corrupts these tenants. I believe I have to keep my ego in check, to seek a humble existence. I observe ego in others. I watch power corrupt others, destroy people, relationships, lives. I don't know the answer to all these questions, nor do I understand the full complexities of these values, tenants. 

I know I am aware…are you?

B

The Disease Concept

This week I have been reflecting on addiction and the disease concept. The passing of Phillip Seymour Hoffman this week has thrust addiction into the main stream media. Many people outside of the scope of addiction appear concerned and “clueless” of how someone with 23 years of sobriety could relapse and ultimately die from the disease. And whether you respect Dr. Drew he got it “right’ all over my TV. Here is an excerpt from an interview

Dr. Drew: You can't kick addiction, it's 'lifelong'

By Amanda Sloane

Some people have been saying how sad it is that Hoffman died after 'kicking' his addiction two decades ago. How do you feel about that?

Dr. Drew: The idea that addiction is something that’s “kicked” or is a “demon” -- these are crazy notions in my world. The fact is, once the switch is thrown on addiction, it’s a chronic, lifelong condition that needs to be managed every day much the way a diabetic has to take insulin every day. And if they don’t take their insulin, their blood sugars go out of control and the same is true of addiction. If they’re not practicing their treatment and recovery and participating in that in a regular basis, they will use -- it’s inevitable.

The people who are actually in the recovering community say their disease is doing push-ups while they’re sober. It’s a brain disorder in them and it’s waiting and lurking and ready to take advantage of any opportunity it has to re-emerge. It’s a motivational disturbance where the usual motivational priorities like our loved ones, our work, our very survival, start to diminish in importance relative to this one overwhelming priority, which is using. And that takes over thinking and it takes over the emotional systems. It’s interesting to see a brain that’s under the influence of a distorted motivation.

What do you think when you hear that someone who was purportedly clean for so long has started using again?

Dr. Drew: Well, we don’t know if he was sober those 20 years. But it’s not unheard of for people to sort of diminish their participation in treatment or begin to think they don’t need to do all the work and the addiction will re-emerge when that happens. Let’s say he was sober all those years, the fact that somebody after two decades of sobriety relapses makes them an extremely difficult population to treat. They -- in a way -- sort of know too much and their addiction takes full advantage of that.

How common is relapse when it comes to addiction?

Dr. Drew: Relapse is a part of recovery. The people that do poorly, though, are the ones that relapse and then relinquish their participation in recovery. If somebody slips, it’s a slip. But a full-blown relapse is when people dismiss recovery, they don’t participate in any more treatment. That’s when they die.

We normally hear of celebrities overdosing on prescription medications. Is heroin having a comeback?

Dr. Drew: It’s always been around. It’s not that it’s having a comeback. It’s that the pills are so massive now that when people can’t get pills or can’t afford pills -- that’s when they switch over to heroin. It’s cheaper, more intense and very available. The extraordinary thing about Philip Seymour Hoffman is that he died of heroin and not pills. Typically, what happens these days is that pills get people. Although we don’t know yet, we may find that he had pills in his system, also. That may be the issue here. Maybe that’s what finally took him.

What’s one important thing people should know about others who struggle with addiction?

Dr. Drew: The one thing that I always want to emphasize is to separate the person and the disease -- the career and the disease. This is a wonderful person by every account, a wonderful father and clearly a magnificent artist who left us a glorious body of work. That is not in any way diminished by him having a chronic medical problem we call addiction -- any more than if he had cancer.

What can we learn from this tragic event?

Dr. Drew: More people will die of opiate addiction in the next 30 days than died in the 9/11 tragedy. This is something to remember. Also celebrities have a tendency to get special care. They want special care from special people. I would just remind them that Conrad Murray [the former doctor who treated and was convicted in the death of pop star Michael Jackson] is a perfect example of a special treating physician and what kind of special outcomes are in store for people who seek special care.

“DISEASE”, “CHRONIC, LIFE LONG CONDITION”, “BRAIN DISORDER”

I am a subscriber to pure abstinence, something I believe is part of the maintenance of my disease. I was at the Dr.’s office yesterday and made it very clear, I am a person in recovery and I will not accept and habit forming medications. I am scared of the “what ifs”. Developing healthy boundaries with myself is of upmost importance to keep my condition in check. 

Thank you Phillip Seymour Hoffman, you died so I can examine your life and for one more day I can live.

Rest in Peace.

B

1988- Journal entry

I wrote this when I was early in my recovery and still trying to figure out what was going on around me and within me. I was 18 years old...

Life is a mirror, look at what you see.
The crowd behind you begins to flee.
The rage you feel begins to surge
you clinch your fists, you feel the urge
Shatter your life, break the mirror
feel the pain, the pain is fear.
your all alone, no one around
the thoughts in your head are the only sound

it really sucks, its always the same.
the life I lived was a no win game.
Try and be happy I know I should.
Try so hard...I wish I could.
To end it all I think I would.
All I did was fucking cry.
I never had the nerve to die.
Every thing's the same, nothing new.
What am I suppose to do?

It's my desicion
I'll decide.
to take the ride
or run and hide.

B

A light that shines from within

“We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.” Buddha

I recently had the privilege to spend some time with someone new to recovery. A humbling experience for me to see her joy, her excitement, her undeniable happiness. She discussed the early parts of her journey, her desires, her plan, her commitment. She talked about her challenges, the hard parts. And joy flowed from her like a light shining from her soul. A light which will continue to grow, be stronger, and brighter. 

And as I reflect on our conversation I begin to understand why I need her. I need to be reminded that I am no different, that my light continues to shine. That I deserve joy and happiness. She is a version of myself. A version that is easily forgotten. It becomes easy to obsess over the defects. It’s hard sometimes to sit back and take in everything, to let that light shine...and I am blessed that she reminded me of this!

Thank You N!
B

Who am I and why am I here?

Who am I and why am I here is a question that I ask myself daily. I was asked to address a conference for mental health recovery and this was the title of my speech. I believed the committee assumed I would be bringing answers to this questions not spend my hour discussing why I continue to ask myself this question. I have always longed for a different “version” of myself. 
     I have never felt comfortable with myself. When I look in the mirror, I sometimes don’t know the person reflected there. Most days I struggle through feeling scared. Not scared of the world, but scared of how I am reacting to it. Many people have observed and commented on my “laid back” demeanor. This has taken years of self-reflection and practice to keep my emotional state on a level plane. I know at times I project a “stand offish”, intimidating, mean expression on my face. I do this not by choice. This is part of my natural self-defense mechanism- (insert fight or flight). I do not want to mean or thought of as someone who is a jerk or scary. I really am not. One of the saddest and meanest things anyone has ever said to me is, “no matter how hard you work on recreating who you are, people will always know the true you by the expression you carry on your face and in your eyes.” This was told to me over twenty years ago and it haunts me. It’s not like I am trying to be someone I am not. I was given an opportunity through recovery to change the way my story ends. This is what I call the “gift and curse” of recovery. I believe that if I or anyone else wanted to write the story of my life, I have been given the ability to affect the outcome of how that story ends. This is what I am doing. 
To be continued...
B

25 years of change

"If you do not change your direction, you may end up where you are heading" Lao Tzu

This weekend was the summation of an eventful week for me; I attended my 25^th High School reunion. I have never attended one before and had many reservations about being there; I could have easily skipped it. I was asked by a friend and former classmate to attend and after some pandering by him and few others, I got up the courage to go. I was not “popular” in high school, I wasn’t in any clubs, didn’t play sports, and really struggled through the whole process. I was constantly in trouble, multiple suspensions, expelled my junior year, and dropping out my senior year. I was under the care of a psychiatrist beginning my sophomore year for suicidal ideation and self-harm. I was heavily medicated and had developed a severe substance abuse problem. I was involved in the criminal justice system and was constantly in trouble outside of school. The last two years of high school are truly a blur. I remember very little about any of it, by design. I was incarcerated at the age of 17, my senior year of high school. After some time away from the world I made a decision to never return to the place where so much harm existed for me and others. While my classmates finished school and graduated, I was beginning to author a new ending to the story of my life.  I had no idea what this story would read like and was very scared that any moment by book would end. I knew that redefining myself would be a huge undertaking. I call this the “gift and the curse” of recovery. While my classmates walked across the stage receiving their diplomas I intoxicated myself for the last time. While they dreamed of college, families, careers, I dreamed of the same. 
Together we dreamed of our future, our change. 
While we celebrated 25 years since graduation, I carried with me in my pocket, my 25 year coin from Alcoholics Anonymous.  I am glad I attended the event this weekend it was wonderful to see so many people. Many have changed so much, I know I have.
B 

Where is Peace?

Where is peace? I asked myself this simple question multiple times a day and night. I am victim of inner turmoil on a nonstop basis, anxiety, nervousness, worry. At times my mind races at a pace that my heart picks up to keep pace. I have learned many techniques to ease my anxiousness. I look at myself in the mirror every morning and become scared. I don’t know who I have become, what I am supposed to do, how I am to act. I have a clear understanding of what is expected of a productive member of society and what is considered appropriate versus not. I have honed my moral compass to what I believe is an acceptable social level. I believe in the tenets of good values, I practice these and seek others who share similar believes and practices.

As I age and look at myself, I notice the landscape of my physical identity slowly change. My hair is greyer; my skin has begun to take on new identity. I have to remind myself that life, happiness, is not a destination. I must continue to work on myself, to continue to look at myself and push forward. I still have much room to grow, to become a better person. Those of you who knew me previous to this journey you know how far I have come.

I still have many character defects. I still fight with my inner-self constantly. Peace is a journey. I look at myself daily, take a deep breath, and challenge myself to be better person.

B

Fear

I was recently asked why someone in an active addiction cycle cannot abstain from their drug of choice even after they admittedly say they don’t want to continue use. They honestly want to chart a new course for their lives, a course that is drug free; but they can’t. This is perceived by others as an example of dishonesty, a “he doesn't really want to stop”, “she’s just saying that, but doesn't really mean it”, “drug addicts should just stop using drugs”. This week I facilitated a treatment group where we discussed and defined addiction, a complicated task for anyone to achieve. We used and examined the American Society of AddictionMedicine’s definition. Here is the “short” definition:

Addiction is a primary, chronic disease of brain reward, motivation, memory and related circuitry. Dysfunction in these circuits leads to characteristic biological, psychological, social and spiritual manifestations. This is reflected in an individual pathologically pursuing reward and/or relief by substance use and other behaviors.

Addiction is characterized by inability to consistently abstain, impairment in behavioral control, craving, diminished recognition of significant problems with one’s behaviors and interpersonal relationships, and a dysfunctional emotional response. Like other chronic diseases, addiction often involves cycles of relapse and remission. Without treatment or engagement in recovery activities, addiction is progressive and can result in disability or premature death.

As you can see this is a complicated disease. There are many factors that cause an individual to engage in an addiction cycle and the baffling part of the disease is that the brain constantly “plays a trick” on the individual to continue the cycle. There is no way to “fix” the problem. Everyone has different path into addiction and just as complex as the journey into, the journey out is even more complicated. Many attempt, many commit themselves to the journey and become lost. Sometimes death is the only relieve from the suffering. I wish we could solve the complicated mess of addiction. In recovery I know how blessed I am. I am not perfect nor do I try to be, however 25 years ago something happened in the universe, the heavens, and in my life. I began the journey of recovery. I work with others daily in addiction and recovery. I get to share in the pain, the pride, the sadness, the relief, the honest and dishonest, the loneliness, the happiness, the Fear…and for that I am blessed! 

B

Twenty Five Years of tree climbing. A Prologue.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion." Henry David Thoreau

Twenty Five years ago I began the process of being a “tree climber”. I had spent years in the dust. I had the breath knocked out of me repeatedly. I gasped for air. The air I breathed in was full of dust, dry and dirty. The view never changed. Others came and lay in the dirt, others bathed in the dust to hide. I gasped for air. I could see the trees. I could see the forest. It seemed unattainable. The tree grows from the dust and reaches for the sky. Twenty five years ago, I slowly rubbed my eyes to remove some of the dust. The sun shined through the trees. The brightness made me want to turn my face away as the sun combined with dust caused my eyes to tear. The tears mixed with dust, the view was magnificent and the most frightening thing I had ever seen. The forest, so large, so overwhelming, the trees stoic, brave, rising from the dust like the phoenix. I cried. I spent years standing at the bottom of the tree. 

I knew tree climbing was dangerous, exhilarating, rewarding, but I did not know what the view was like. I had watched others climb trees which lay horizontal with the dust, trees that had fallen after a great storm, and lay to die, to become dust. That view appeared to be equal to lying on the ground.  

Climbing a tree can be difficult. I had to learn from experienced tree climbers. I watched as others stood on limbs that cracked and popped. I watched as limbs broke and people returned to the dust. I stood and watched. I looked around and saw the bodies pile up around me. I watched as some became exhausted, tired, fatigued, and let go. They chose to fall, they seemed to enjoy the feeling of the fall. Others climbed and climbed. They yelled form the trees how beautiful it was, how the view was amazing, others never wiped the dust from their eyes and their view was dust, they fell, they returned. 

I learned the process of climbing trees. To start at the base, near the trunk. This was the foundation of every tree. To reach for the first branch, to grip it tightly, to shake it, to determine how stable it was. Will it hold my weight? To ask myself, is this a good branch? After taking a deep breath, pulling myself up into the tree the view instantly becomes different, the dust starts become distant. Slowly, methodically, I began climbing the tree. Uncertain, scared of the climb. I tried limbs that looked, felt familiar, realizing too much time spent on these types of branches would not hold my weight. I looked down, seeing others I knew and loved laying on the ground looking up at me. 

I continued to climb unaware of my destination, the view changed with the seasons. 

Every branch I climbed to, another presented itself. 

I continue to climb… 

Tear drops of self control

I found myself on the receiving end of a violent tirade this week. The person was so angry he was unwilling and truly unable to hear anything that came from mouth, including an apology for a misunderstanding. He confronted me in an exhibit of pure rage including threats of harm to my wellbeing. I sat in my chair, and without hesitation, didn’t move. My hands placed securely on the arms of the chair, my body relaxed, and my face void of emotion. And I sat, and I received his yelling and threats, and I absorbed his emotion, and I resisted the urge to respond, and I refused to engage, escalate, enrage. And when he finished or maybe realized I was not going to respond, he left. This is the most desirable less likely outcome. This could have had many endings, which no doubt would have included me returning to a version of myself for which I have so worked to control. I understand these situations are as much about myself as they are the perpetrator. The work I have invested into making myself a “kinder gentler” version of myself has been a lifelong process. To understand and adhere to a strict doctrine of conflict resolution that is based on nonviolence. I believe this is part of my destiny, to restore some type of balance in my life and the community.  

After he left I was consumed with emotion. . I took a deep breath and began the process of de-escalating myself.  My hands shook, my face was flush, adrenaline rushed through my body, and tears ran out of the corner of eyes. Tear drops of self control.

 

Have a Blessed week, I have...

B

The person I was...

So I haven’t written in two weeks as I have had a lot going on in my day to day life. Spring brings a whole bunch of projects that have been put off all winter, yard work, etc.

 I had the privilege to read through my probation record, which one of my good friends was able to get out of storage for me to look through. It was hard to read. It tells the story of a young man trying in every way to destroy himself. A story that if read aloud, the narrator and audience would surely believe that the main character would not make it, doomed to either spend his entire life in institutions or death. To read what professionals thought of my wellbeing, my behavior, my attitude, repeated arrests, failed treatment episodes and interventions, to read what people outside of my world tried to put the pieces together of what I can only describe in reflection as pure inner and outer chaos. My prognosis was not good. I was not going to make it. And yet here I am. And if I think about, which I do daily, I don’t understand why. Why did I get so lucky? Why did my higher power pick me to save? I know that I am truly blessed. The majority of those with my background rarely make it. I knew that then. I knew that the odds, statistics, the professionals, didn’t believe I would make it, that I would come out the other side. At the very core of my soul I wanted a different life, I am still motivated by this. I am still working on making myself a better person, and a better life. There is little perfection in this. If I am honest with myself and others I can and am able to recognize when I stray from the course and correct it. I thank God daily for my existence. I hope when this journey comes to end that others will reflect on my life and be proud of where I have come from and what I have achieved. Although I sometimes have to be reminded, I know that I am.

B

resiliency, trauma, and a history of violence

Sometimes I attend training's to improve my work skills and more often than not, leave learning something about myself and why I do certain things. This week I attended a training session on trauma informed care, one the current “buzz” words in the treatment profession at the moment and learned a lot about who I use to be. One of the sessions addressed how to work with someone who is “flooding” or having adrenaline overload. This really hit home as I used to be pre-wired with a high level of adrenaline, a way to keep vigilant and be on my best defense to protect myself. Many people inquire about my apparent calm, laid back disposition and I have never been able to explain it in a clinical way. This has taken an immense amount of work on myself, to let go of those things which trigger adrenaline flooding, conflict in any way.  The most upset or adrenaline charged I have felt was a couple years ago when someone confronted me in a parking lot, he thumped me on the chest when he was talking in a “put down” way. I was able to defuse myself and walk away. The adrenaline rushed through my body so strongly that my hands were shaking. I was threatened, I felt unsafe, and I wanted to put my hands around his neck. This is one of the greatest things I have accomplished through my recovery, letting go of conflict and the ability to diffuse myself. I was not always like this even in recovery. I recall many times getting into physical altercations, as a result of escalating verbal disagreements. Confronting others unnecessarily because I felt disrespected, challenged, or had my feelings hurt. I have a history of violence and I was raised in an environment full of conflict, violence, and trauma. This is how I was built. This is not something I am proud of and something that I work on and manage on a daily basis.

B

http://conflictunraveled.com/vt_wp/?page_id=887

Maintaining sobriety through fasting-Where am I going and can I find happiness.

“The most dangerous person in recovery I have ever met”

“My name is Brad and I am an alcoholic and addict”

“Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path…” The first time I set foot into a 12 step self help group I was 17 years old. I look back and still don’t fully understand why I was there I simply knew I needed to be there. The meeting room was full of mostly older men, some women, and the few residents of treatment who had also received passes to attend. I had little in common with those who attended and shared. Their stories of losing jobs, wives, husbands, homes, and everything, was nothing like my story. I had nothing to lose. I was here to build something, to get something. They shared their stories and I listened carefully. I shared very little, I had not lost everything. I observed men share the same story over and over, I suppose their retelling of this moment was a reminder of what waited for them outside the walls of the meeting. Stories of waking up in alleys and jail cells. Told and retold. The same story. Over and over. I was encouraged by my counselor to complete a 30/30. 30 meetings in 30 days. I went everyday, sometimes two times per day. I could not get enough. Of what I did not know. I just knew I needed to be there and going felt right. I immersed myself in all their publications, read all their books, and observed the comings and goings of every member of the group. I completed my 30 meetings and challenged myself to complete a 90/90. Challenge may not be the correct word as going became an obsession and missing was unthinkable. I got my first job while still at the residential facility. The management and coworkers were supportive of what I was trying to accomplice. My work schedule was made to fit around my meeting schedule. I got two sponsors and began the process of working on my steps. One sponsor was an old timer who helped with the step process and the other was a college student who would teach me how to be a 17 year old recovering addict.

I remember being very confused. Very unsure, very nervous, very scared. I didn't know who I was, how I was to act, who I would spend time with, what I would do.

Most days I still feel this way.

I had something to look forward to. A glimmer of hope. What was I getting? “Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path” Failure, I had tasted that and knew I didn’t want to return, at least not right now. I enjoyed my freedom too much. But what did success look like? I would find comfort in my days of sobriety, a true mark of success. I knew that the statistics were against me, I was expected to fail. I had built a foundation for the rest of my life and no matter how bad a day was, or how stupid of a decision I had made, I had tomorrow, the promise of another day. The coins I collected for sobriety anniversary dates became evidence of this success. Proof of the promise I never showed my coins to anyone, but carried them in my pocket as though they were worth more than gold. Protected. Proof. Success. And my 12-step family celebrated my accomplishments like a true family. People were genuinely proud of me, concerned and compassionate. 

I will always consider myself part of the 12 step family, much like the child they help raise, I will forever be indebted to the people of 12 step groups for helping me become a better person.

B 

"And there was a kid with a head full of doubt"- AB

This week I had the opportunity to visit a medium security prison and spend the day not only speaking to about 100 guys, but spent individual time with many of them. The prison is about an hour and half from my house and I had to be at the gate house between 8 and 830a.m. (which meant an early morning for me). During the drive I attempted to clear my head and focus on what I would say to them. This can be overwhelming as I usually walk into a gymnasium or commons area and they are there waiting for me to walk in and start talking. One of the ways I try to get myself focused and centered is through music. My music interests span many genres and time frames. However I recently have been listening to the Avett Brothers for my long drives at work and to relax when at home. There is one specific song “Head full of doubt/Road full of promise” which I found to be appropriate for this mornings commute and preparation. The lyrics of the song are:

 "Head Full Of Doubt / Road Full Of Promise"

 There's a darkness upon me that's flooded in light

 In the fine print they tell me what's wrong and what's right

 And it comes in black and it comes in white

 And I'm frightened by those that don't see it

 

When nothing is owed or deserved or expected

 And your life doesn't change by the man that's elected

 If you're loved by someone, you're never rejected

 Decide what to be and go be it

 

There was a dream and one day I could see it

Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it

And there was a kid with a head full of doubt

So I'll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out

I met many men who have spent 20 or more years locked up, many of which are murderers. They shared the same nervous anticipation that any person would have in their position. A scared of what the world is like after 20 years disposition. They shared stories of their children who were toddlers when they went away, who have grown up, got married, had their own children, and continued on with their lives. And I reflected on my last 20 years being in recovery, being free, and having a life. During the speaking part of my day I was in a gymnasium with about 100 men sitting in the bleachers, all dressed in the same state issued blue uniform (made by prisoners, wore by prisoners) and I talked about  many things including dreams and doubts. I know many of them will not make it once released. The burden of life on the outside is too much. The problems that lead them to incarceration remain, some have continued to grow. And I talked about it. I discussed what it means to be part of a community and the debt they must someday payback to their towns, their families. I talked about the responsibility they have to themselves, their children, their mothers, and their community. A shared responsibility we all have to be citizens.  We discussed plans, goals and more importantly I discussed dreams. I challenged them all to look inside themselves and find their dreams and use those desires to succeed, accomplish, conquer motivate and guide them to make better choices.  And I talked about a desire for something different
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