The gods

Do the gods cry out to you?

Do they direct

Instruct

Command

Guide

Do they weep in your name?

Do the clouds shift with your breath?

Does the wind understand the leaves?

Does your cheek understand the tear?

Does the world understand your fear?

Fragile

Will it shatter?

Will the gods wash away everything?

To begin anew

I pretend I'm okay

I watch the clouds

I cannot succumb to my own darkness 

I never asked for this

I try to understand the gods 

Every second of everyday I tell myself I'm okay

I tell the clouds

They understand my fragility 

in-betweenness

in-betweenness 

Ive spent the last few weeks speaking and engaging others on the topic of change. When addressing others on the topic of change and they present with a history of substance use and mental health disorders, change becomes one of the hardest things for anyone to accomplish. But why? We have high expectations of others to change, correct, fix their behavior when it subjects others and especially themselves to harm. Many of the population I work with are in need of extreme change and many expect them to just do it. If you told me that everything around and about me needed to be changed I would naturally be resistant and unable to understand the depth of such an endeavor. We expect others to self assess their people, places, and things and strip away, let go of those things which lead them to poor decisions. For many this is their identity. This is what makes them who they are and we expect them to drop it. Naturally this creates a sense of fear, vulnerability, and apprehension. I have done this. I started this process many years ago and I remember very vividly how scared and sad I was. I literally looked in the mirror and thought, “who am I going to be?” I cried as I began to mourn the loss of the person I once was. I began to bury that person in a grave that contained many people, places and things. I began the process of reinventing myself. I didn't want to talk, act, or behave as I once did. I wanted to be someone else. I wanted to stop the pain and my own self imposed suffering. I started to observe others, spend time with people who I admired qualities in. I modeled myself after the people I surrounded myself with. I set goals for myself, I practiced being a new me. I began to author my own story. I quit letting others have the power to define who I was and what I did. and all the while I was scared, I felt vulnerable, I made many mistakes but continued to take an honest inventory and make amends when necessary. I built trust with others, I worked hard and stayed focused on my goals. I continued to establish and maintain appropriate boundaries for myself. I slowly worked my way through in-betweenness. 

B

The Touch

His eyes race

Four hundred years of alcohol on his breath

Dead Man Incorporated

Discarded dreams in piles

Hope without a face in the mirror

His hands map out the pain

Experienced

The pyramid tattoo illuminates the room

Gold

He travels on high

The river flows over his face

His desire lodged between rocks

Like a paper boat

The concrete sweats memory

The touch of another

Long Term Goal-Complete

1987, age 17, I had to drop out of High School.

I was able to complete the required course work through correspondence and in 

1992, age 21 I graduated High School. That Fall I began attending college. I was admitted through the special admissions program. I took classes for no credit that taught me how to be a college student. I received assistance through the Department of Rehabilitation Services, petitioned and was granted independent student status through financial aid. 

1998, age 27, I graduated college with two Bachelor Degrees. Defying the odds.

I entered Graduate School, taught classes at the university as a graduate assistant. Received a full fellowship for three years.

2001, age 30, I graduated with my Master’s Degree with a 4.0 grade point average

2015, age 44, I quietly made my last student loan payment. Ending a journey. 

I lay in bed and feel a sense of pride. I did it. I beat the odds, I set forth on a long term goal of higher education, and completed it. I completed all educational and financial obligations. 

Goal-Completed

B

27 years later, I would like to have a drink

December 27th, 1987 was the last time I had alcohol in my system. The night ended with me starting the process of me building a new life for myself. I was 17 years old and scared. This past weekend, 27 years after having that last drink, I had a fleeting thought of “I would like to have a drink”. A thought which sounded an alarm inside me. A thought which undressed could lead me on a path of possible self destruction. I am often asked if I still crave alcohol and drugs. And I would like to think I am able to address these fleeting thoughts before they grow into a full blown craving cycle. To understand this process you must understand the disease of addiction. 

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.-http://www.asam.org/for-the-public/definition-of-addiction

Craving is a natural part of the addiction and recovery process. However I don't believe a thought of wanting to have a drink constitutes a craving cycle. Maybe it derives from my sometimes desire to be “normal” or like others who can have a drink of alcohol for whatever reasons and not trigger off an addiction cycle. I know I am incapable of this. I will never be able to just have a drink. 

An urge to drink can be set off by external triggers in the environment and internal ones within yourself.

External triggers are people, places, things, or times of day that offer drinking opportunities or remind you of drinking. These "high-risk situations" are more obvious, predictable, and avoidable than internal triggers.

Internal triggers can be puzzling because the urge to drink just seems to "pop up." But if you pause to think about it when it happens, you'll find that the urge may have been set off by a fleeting thought, a positive emotion such as excitement, a negative emotion such as frustration, or a physical sensation such as a headache, tension, or nervousness.-http://rethinkingdrinking.niaaa.nih.gov/toolsresources/copingwithurgestodrink.asp

My fleeting thought, which was very random, is a reminder that I am not “cured” of my disease. I am blessed to have the insight and ability to quickly address my symptoms and continue on the path I started 27 years ago. 

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We're alive, please be gentle

This is from a blog I read often and I thought I would share... Brit Barkholtz

WE’RE ALIVE, PLEASE BE GENTLE

Posted on: 18 December 2014

I recently attended a friend’s wedding in Seattle. Though I’ve been to Seattle before, it had been at least ten years since I was last there, so I took some time to be a typical tourist and enjoy the city. While browsing a museum gift shop, I noticed some small plants on a shelf—miniature plants, about half the size of my palm.  A small sign was perched in front of them, reading, “We’re alive, please be gentle.” My initial thought was that it was a smart sign: I had assumed the plants were fake—which was apparently a common misconception. But as I continued to browse the store, the sign stuck in my mind. 

“We’re alive, please be gentle.” 

To apply this sign to people might seem like a pretty simple concept, but I wonder how often we end up forgetting it. It only takes about five minutes of watching the news to realize we do not live in a gentle world. Wars and violent conflict make headlines across the globe. People around the world are oppressed for any number of reasons—their gender identity, their race, their religion, their sexual orientation, or their economic status. We see national and global corporations earning a profit off marginalized people seeking better options. Greed and corruption permeate the social and political spectrums, leaving many people struggling to get by.  I wish I could somehow remind people all across the world: “We’re alive, please be gentle.”

To think so large-scale might be unrealistic, so I want to bring this message a little closer to home. A recent study by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Administration found that one in five Americans are living with some type of mental health condition. This means the odds are good that you know someone affected by mental illness, or maybe you, yourself, have experience living with mental illness. Mental health conversations are often met with stigma rather than compassion, judgment rather than gentleness. So how do we push back against that reality in our own relationships?

When it comes to being gentle with others, I think it’s most important to never underestimate the power of listening. If someone is struggling and opens up to you, they probably aren’t looking for you to have all the answers. People want to be heard, and they want to know that their voice, their story, has value. Affirm the worries and fears, the hopes and dreams of the people around you. I find it to be quite humbling and a great honor when someone opens up to me and shares their life with me. It takes so much courage for most of us to share those pieces of ourselves, and we should be proud of every single person who does it. It’s also important to encourage and support each other and not get frustrated about bumps along the way. Remember: Love, support, and kindness are not things you only give to others when everything is going well for them. 

But what if we focus the lens even closer? How often do we take the time to think about how to be gentle with ourselves? If you are anything like me, this is the toughest one. I get mad at myself for setbacks, frustrated and impatient with my own limitations, and ashamed of myself for my struggles. I say hateful, hurtful things to and about myself that I would never say to or about anyone else. I am my own toughest critic and worst cheerleader. I can turn a small misstep into a self-hate spiral in record time.

And then I remember: “We’re alive, please be gentle.”

Be gentle with yourself. Be patient with yourself as you live and learn and grow. You’re going to make mistakes—we all do. But forgive yourself for them. Try not to get frustrated with the pace of whatever journey you’re on. Meet yourself where you are. Don’t give up on yourself. Treat yourself when you need a pick-me-up, and give yourself permission to rest when you need a break. Congratulate yourself on progress, big or small, and don’t tear yourself apart for stalls or setbacks. Speak words of kindness to yourself—if you wouldn’t say it to your best friend, don’t say it to yourself. Encourage yourself, affirm yourself. And if you need help with any of it, ask! Remind yourself that you deserve to be happy and healthy. Remind yourself that your story matters, that you matter, and that you are irreplaceable. Love yourself, because you are important and worthy of love.

And on the days when it feels just a little too dark, remember: “We’re alive, please be gentle.” 

http://twloha.com/blog

Trying to Sleep- May 18, 1991

You lie still

trying to hide yourself from the continuos throbbing

moist and dark are the only characteristics of your immediate surroundings

the pounding continues

as you attempt to bury your face into your fluffy but damp pillow

the pulsating digs and claws

with each echoing thump

you consider your life, your problems

you look around the bare and empty room

your thoughts continue as does the throbbing

once again you roll over

attempting to hide and escape

feeling isolated and overwhelmed.

An excerpt from May 18, 1991

B