Hiatus

A 6 month hiatus from writing, it’s been hard. It is no reflection of my desire to write but a reflection of myself. I, at times feel that I say the same things repeatedly, obsessively, redundantly. Searching for the perfect vehicle to present the truest of abstraction. How does one truly help others understand the deepest emotions. What words can be used to describe the innermost self. I will continue to reflect, assess, adjust, remember, dream, make, look, listen, laugh, cry…seek clarity.

Why am I private?

Its been awhile since I have written, by choice. Sometimes I am uncertain of what or why I write. I am unsure if anyone cares about what I write or if I even should concern myself with what others think. I started writing this blog really to open myself up, to document, record things that effect me or interest, inspire me. I wanted to create a bridge a place where others could find refuge and I know this happens through the personal messages I receive from you. Everyday I experience something that inspires me to write and share here. This at times is my journal, a look into myself. 

I have recently been spending time contemplating myself and my role in this world. I am complex at times and am uncertain of the path I have chosen to walk. I try at all times to remain humble and self evaluate. I try to protect myself from the true vulnerability I experience on a daily basis. I work at removing the instinctual barriers I display with others. I try to be myself and allow myself to feel a wide range of emotions. These are hard things for me to do but I continue to push myself because I believe this is where I continue to grow. I challenge myself to get out of my comfort zone and experience nervousness and excitement. I continue to engage in speaking opportunities which really makes me feel inadequate and vulnerable. Standing in front of others and speaking is a scary thing for me to do, yet I push myself to grow. 

I don't know why I am scared of what anyone thinks of me, but I am

I don’t know what Im doing…I just keep doing.

Thank You for taking a minute to read this, I am always amazed that anyone cares.

B

If Normal were a color- An open letter to young readers

Painting a picture of normal 

If normal were a color it would have many profound shades. Many struggle with the palette of normal and believe to their core they are not. However who claims normal to be a pure consistent hue of certainty? We know young people struggle with personal identification and normalcy. We know many adults model what they believe to be a normal persona in thought and action. Young people are particularly susceptible to decision making which may have an immediate effect on their current situation. Most who suffer from behavioral health issues seek a life of pure consistent normalcy. This innate drive is fostered by internal and external factors alike. Young people want to feel, be normal to others. They seek concrete reinforcement form their immediate surroundings. I was never comfortable with myself as an adolescent. I never felt as though I fit in. I surrounded myself with others who didn't fit in. I engaged in behaviors which made me numb to the uncomfortableness. I felt lost, trapped, hopeless. I put myself in the position to allow others to define me, my character. No matter how hard I tried I could not find normal…or at least what I thought normal should be. As I have grown older I still struggle with the socially acceptable “normal”. I still do not know what that means and I somehow have found comfort in understanding that there are many shades of normal. 

In my painting of normal there are many colors and shades, on most days my painting looks completely different then it did the day before. And I find comfort in that.

if you struggle with normal please know you are not alone, if you cannot find someone to talk to out of fear of judgement, please know I understand. 

B

Two eternities...

“In any weather, at any hour of the day or night, I have been anxious to improve the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the meeting of two eternities, the past and future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe that line.” ― Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Lately I have been dealing the world better. I have eliminated some of my stressors and have tapered myself off my anxiety medication. I have experienced stress and at times have felt my blood pressure rise. I have had some poor sleeping patterns. But it’s manageable. I need to feel. I have had the opportunity to put myself in several new and uncomfortable situations the last few weeks. I have experienced a range of emotions, most of which included nervousness. I was told many years ago being nervous is a healthy emotion to experience. To take a deep breath and reflect inward. When I am nervous I know that I am not over confident. I can identify the disconnect between my heart and mind. I can humble myself, submit, let go. Many of the situations I become nervous about I have little to no control over. I have to identify how I fit into them, to deal with them. If I do not follow this process, resistance begins to take root. The immediate response to the situation becomes: I can’t deal with this, I don’t want to deal with this, I won’t deal with this. This is the seed of anger, frustration. This is a disconnect. For me this is an unhealthy scenario. A place I work to avoid. Stress, Anxiety, and nervousness are natural. I continue to work on my relationship with them because I know that I continue to grow in these relationships. I continue to feel.
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

Why I went to the woods

“what is joy without sorrow? what is success without failure? what is a win without a loss? what is health without illness? you have to experience each if you are to appreciate the other. there is always going to be suffering. it’s how you look at your suffering, how you deal with it, that will define you.” ― Mark Twain

The past week has been very difficult for me to navigate. Things have been very out of balance, very overwhelming, and very hard to keep myself on course. I have been subject to some highly stressful situations and at times wanted to scream, cry, and disappear. Luckily I know how my cycle feels and I have different techniques to help myself. I am able to work through, to stay the course. But what is the cost? I want the world to pause for a minute. To let me catch my breath. I considered a self-imposed time out from the world and this is always an option. But how do I surrender to that? How do I do what needs to be. Knowing helps. Talking to others helps. I have to remember to go into the woods, close my eyes, breath, and be mindful…this too shall pass

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

Who am I and Why am I here.

"When feeling sympathy and compassion for those in temptation, a condition I sometimes experience, I have a responsibility toward them. Sympathy always includes responsibility. When I am moved with compassion, I should go to the one in need and bind up his or her wounds as best I can."-unknown

"...when you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight"… " the deeper sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain" (The Prophet) by Khalil Gibran page 29

This week has been tough. I have experienced a whirlwind of emotion. I find myself feeling in a way that as I use to describe as “the world moving so fast I can’t keep up”. I have had several people notice the stress, anxiety, maybe panic on my face and in my character. There is not enough hours or minutes for me to catch up, to stop the world around me. I find myself reassuring myself, I am doing well, I am keeping it together.  I spent time discussing everything with someone this week and the question of when am I going to reach my “tipping point” and what will happen when I do? 

Where is my tipping point? How much can I endure? 

I often feel that I am fragile; I look at myself in the mirror and think how will I make it through the day? I see pain, sorrow, and sadness in my eyes. I pray and meditate for strength, compassion, understanding, balance, and peace. I am far from a perfect person. I am a work in progress.  I know my character defects.  I have tried to put myself around others who understand the complexities of my “condition”, who I believe are looking out for me.

This blog has become a place for to share. I know many of you visit and read. I often wonder what you want me to discuss or share here. I really wonder what you think or feel about this. I sometimes feel like I am in a bubble, writing, and posting with no feedback.  If you feel inclined please respond in some way, let me know you are there…

An orange jumpsuit and my first step to recovery

There was a moment during my life when complete truth never felt more real. Sure I had been experiencing truth constantly and these were the things that I wanted to escape, ignore, avoid, and run from forever. The truth that I did not feel loved or cared for, the onset of knowing that I did not know how to deal with day to day existence as a human being, nor did I want to. The truth that I was severely depressed and never sadder, and I found myself grounded in the idea that this is who I was and I could not change it. On December 27, 1987, the owner of the business had caught me inside his building. Technically I had broken in even though I had previously stolen the keys to the business, and let myself in. He was angry and threatened to shot me. He had his arm around my neck and a handgun pointed to the side of my head. This had little effect on me, not only had I been under the aim of a gun previously, but I had been living to die. The thought of this unknown person threatening to shoot me in the head had a calming effect on me. Not because I had been subdued, but the thought of a stranger completing the task of ending my pathetic existence seemed unfair and out of line. I was angry and sad. A stranger had placed himself into a position that I had been for so long. He probably never knew the value of this position.

The first night I spent incarcerated was very surreal. I had ended up where everyone had warned I was going, but I somehow felt strangely comfortable. I felt at ease. Sure my mind wandered with thoughts of being victimized and how I would deal with these encounters. I lie in my cell and felt as though I was home. Not the home I came from, but a new kind of home. I felt safe. I felt cared for. I no longer had to figure out the insanity that surrounded me, it was gone. I was alone and was expected to do, say, and participate very little in my new life. I suppose you could say I was a good inmate. I was intelligent enough to understand the inner workings of the social structure and quickly understood the limits and expectations of those around me. I was willing to be a little reckless both with my tongue and fists. I was preparing for the worse and living very much in the moment. I was schooled on the inner workings of the justice system by your run of the mill “jail house lawyers”.

I ate meals with murderers, and shared hopes and dreams with society’s waste. People very much like me; who could not live or function in the outside world.  I was a drug addict, but I was also a criminal. I had put all my chips into the center of the table, thrown in the towel, and was where I needed and was supposed to be.

Life as an incarcerated 17 year old is a tough place to be. I was constantly challenged, threatened, and physically beat.     

June 20, 1988

Today would be the last day I would intoxicate myself. An inmate had managed to smuggle in a small amount of marijuana. After smoking my share, I sat on a metal table looking at myself in a nearby mirror. I sat for hours contemplating.

Who would I be? How would I act? What would I do? Who would be my friends? How would I make decisions? What would I do for the rest of my life?

I realized at that moment one of the most important lessons of my recovery; if I ever used drugs or alcohol again, I would be in that jump suit, locked up, starring at myself in the mirror. This would be my moment of what many call clarity; which seems ironic considering I was under the influence. 1+2=3. This is how profound yet simple it had become. Working through the math would become the challenge. 

I am still working through the math...

B

Things I make...

I haven't  posted for a couple of weeks as I have been spending much of my free time (which is very little) drawing. I have been creating a type of Mandala that really is about many issues including mental health, spirituality, discipline, anxiety. So I wanted to start posting some of these...

Breath, 60"x60", ink on paper