Saturday, February 23, 2013

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

Sunday, February 17, 2013

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.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

My Grandmother, God, Catholicism, and Recovery.

Originally posted 2-9-13



“Good Feeling, won’t you stay with me a little longer”
ViolentFemmes-1983

Proverbs
13 Hold fast to discipline, never let her go, keep your eyes on her, she is your life.
14 Do not follow the path of the wicked, do not walk the way that the evil go.
15 Avoid it, do not take it, turn your back on it, pass it by.
16 For they cannot sleep unless they have first done wrong, they miss their sleep if they have not made someone stumble;
17 for the bread of wickedness is what they eat, and the wine of violence is what they drink.
18 The path of the upright is like the light of dawn, its brightness growing to the fullness of day;
19 the way of the wicked is as dark as night, they cannot tell the obstacles they stumble over.
20 My child, pay attention to what I am telling you, listen carefully to my words;
21 do not let them out of your sight, keep them deep in your heart.
22 For they are life to those who find them and health to all humanity.
23 More than all else, keep watch over your heart, since here are the wellsprings of life.
24 Turn your back on the mouth that misleads, keep your distance from lips that deceive.
25 Let your eyes be fixed ahead, your gaze be straight before you.
26 Let the path you tread be level and all your ways be firm.
27 Turn neither to right nor to left, keep your foot clear of evil.

My Grandmother, God, Catholicism, and Recovery. 
I have no memories of her recovery, but I have many memories of her faith. I would not understand the relationship of the two until recent years. My grandmother would become the foundation of my formative years as a child and young adult. My memories of attending mass with grandma are somewhat sad in retrospect. When my Grandma said we are going to mass, we went. Not attending was not optional and she reinforced this as the committal of an outright sin. I never remember her being happy or joyous about going and participating in church. To her that was not the purpose of church or her relationship with God. She attended mass to somehow prove that she was sorry to herself, her family, and God. This is how I learned to be Catholic.
I recall kneeling in church for what seemed like hours while my Grandma prayed the rosary. I remember kneeling for what seemed like an eternity every time I attended mass with her. The burn of my knees somehow began to relate to how “bad” I had been as a boy. The more it hurt, the more I needed to be doing it. I don’t know if Grandma every said this but I believed it. I knew that the more sins I confessed to, during confession, the longer I would be on my knees during penance. Somehow I believed that to truly repent and receive God’s forgiveness, I had to first prove that I was willing to suffer a little for my sins. This was not unlike my home life; misbehavior was often punished through physical discipline.
Through this suffering, I was proving I was committed to God, the Church, and the betterment of myself spiritually. Fasting during Lent also reinforced this suffering. Grandma and I observed the annual Catholic tradition of fasting for periods during the Lenten season. This according to Grandma was a way to cleanse the body and better the soul. There was no happiness in participating in church or attempting a relationship with God. It was defined by sorrow, unworthiness, and punishment through self-discipline. Today, my spiritual journey is still rooted in this core foundation; I must feel bad and or suffer to somehow feel good.  This would become part of the foundation and tools I would use to get clean of drugs and alcohol and maintain that sobriety. If I truly believed I was and addict, then I had to surrender myself to the idea that I needed drugs and alcohol much like a person needs food and water. 

Is it possible that the journey of recovery was a life long fasting? Would I need to employ the same strict doctrine of self discipline taught to me by my grandmother and the Catholic church to remain drug free? What effects would this fast have on my spiritual development? Would I suffer through recovery?
B




Saturday, February 2, 2013

My name is Brad and I have a history of self harm


I want to share with you one of my darkest secrets. A behavior, an emotion, a "thing" that for many years I wanted to believe was not something I had done to myself. Something so embarrassing to admit that I attempted to bury it forever. I didn't know how to talk about it, didn't know how to explain it. It has been many, many years since I harmed myself. In fact I engaged in this between the ages of 15-17. 
I wrote this a couple of years ago after attending a conference session on women who harm themselves. Afterwards I spent some time with the presenter describing some of my self harm and she challenged me to come out of my self imposed darkness and be willing to admit it and someday discuss it. I want you to know this comes with much hesitation and that I will post links to sites where help can be sought. 


The first time I cut my wrists,
a great light came over me,
not only had I found a way to release my sadness but I also found the perfect way to illustrate my emotions. I had this mark on my body that conveyed a message for all to see. A message that could only be interpreted one way, I was hurting. My self harm was a perfect compliment to my substance abuse, I could intoxicate myself, cut on my self to amplify the high, release my sadness, and send a message to those around me that my life was spiraling out of control and that I had deep rooted emotional issues. I wore the cuts on my body like huge billboards, “I’M HURTING”. I never wanted to kill myself but romanticized the idea that I could cut deeper, more, bigger and come close to death. In fact the closer I came, the better it felt.
The more I cut, the better I felt.
What started as an experiment with emotions and pain quickly developed into an obsession.
I cut on myself everyday; designing patterns of marks that somehow exemplified the number of times I had felt pain. The only problem is I didn’t have enough skin. I cut on cuts, I cut on scabs, and I cut and cut. The group of people I hung around were impressed with my cutting. Other kids at my high school, with whom I had never spoken, came forward to compare their cutting to mine, an exchange of desires, dreams, and shared pain; a somewhat intimate exchange. Finally they must have thought someone we can relate to and someone who needs us. I never wanted to gain any relationships from my self-harm, only bring attention and resolve to the destructive nature of my own existence. I became obsessed with using different instruments to cut with razor blades, utility knife blades, broken glass, pins, and needles. As the sensation of cutting began to numb, new ways became a last option. I began to burn “blue circles” into my wrists using a cigarette. I would lie in bed and choke myself. I would punch myself repeatedly in the face and stomach. 

I didn’t want to die but I knew I didn’t want to live. 

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Where does anger live?




Where does anger live?
I have spent the last couple of days involved in discussions about anger. Not my personal anger, but anger in general. I used to be an angry, sometimes violent person. When I reflect on this aspect (defect) of my personality I am sometimes struck with awe at the person I have tried to become. I used anger to express myself while in my addiction and the early parts of my recovery. But why? Why do so many people use anger to express themselves? I believe anger is one of the most complex emotions and behaviors we as humans exhibit. I know that many use anger as a mask for a more personal emotional state (i.e. Hurt, sadness, embarrassment) I also know many use anger as a manipulation to get what they want or to use as an excuse for poor choices and behaviors. At this present moment, many people have decided to express some form of anger, and to express it publically. Daily we are bombarded in the media and on social networks with PDA’s (public displays of anger), but what are people really angry about? We have witnessed daily, people expressing emotions, including anger in some of the most extreme ways. We know that many instances of violence go unreported, unannounced, and live and grow in the shadows of darkness. I chose to address my personal relationship with anger on a daily basis. They are plenty of times I feel anger, I feel my blood pressure rise, I clinch my jaw, but I deal with differently. It’s not that I don’t feel anger, I do, however I choose to refocus my emotions on something that helps me deal with the root or trigger of this emotion. I don’t want to be angry, in fact I refuse to be angry or behave in an angry matter. But where does anger live within me?

The American Psychological Association recommends this:

Strategies To Keep Anger At Bay
Relaxation
Simple relaxation tools, such as deep breathing and relaxing imagery, can help calm down angry feelings. There are books and courses that can teach you relaxation techniques, and once you learn the techniques, you can call upon them in any situation. If you are involved in a relationship where both partners are hot-tempered, it might be a good idea for both of you to learn these techniques.
Some simple steps you can try:
Breathe deeply, from your diaphragm; breathing from your chest won't relax you. Picture your breath coming up from your "gut. "Slowly repeat a calm word or phrase such as "relax," "take it easy." Repeat it to yourself while breathing deeply. Use imagery; visualize a relaxing experience, from either your memory or your imagination. Nonstrenuous, slow yoga-like exercises can relax your muscles and make you feel much calmer.
Practice these techniques daily. Learn to use them automatically when you're in a tense situation.
Cognitive Restructuring
Simply put, this means changing the way you think. Angry people tend to curse, swear, or speak in highly colorful terms that reflect their inner thoughts. When you're angry, your thinking can get very exaggerated and overly dramatic. Try replacing these thoughts with more rational ones. For instance, instead of telling yourself, "oh, it's awful, it's terrible, everything's ruined," tell yourself, "it's frustrating, and it's understandable that I'm upset about it, but it's not the end of the world and getting angry is not going to fix it anyhow."
Be careful of words like "never" or "always" when talking about yourself or someone else. "This !&*%@ machine never works," or "you're always forgetting things" are not just inaccurate, they also serve to make you feel that your anger is justified and that there's no way to solve the problem. They also alienate and humiliate people who might otherwise be willing to work with you on a solution.
Remind yourself that getting angry is not going to fix anything, that it won't make you feel better (and may actually make you feel worse).
Logic defeats anger, because anger, even when it's justified, can quickly become irrational. So use cold hard logic on yourself. Remind yourself that the world is "not out to get you," you're just experiencing some of the rough spots of daily life. Do this each time you feel anger getting the best of you, and it'll help you get a more balanced perspective. Angry people tend to demand things: fairness, appreciation, agreement, willingness to do things their way. Everyone wants these things, and we are all hurt and disappointed when we don't get them, but angry people demand them, and when their demands aren't met, their disappointment becomes anger. As part of their cognitive restructuring, angry people need to become aware of their demanding nature and translate their expectations into desires. In other words, saying, "I would like" something is healthier than saying, "I demand" or "I must have" something. When you're unable to get what you want, you will experience the normal reactions—frustration, disappointment, hurt—but not anger. Some angry people use this anger as a way to avoid feeling hurt, but that doesn't mean the hurt goes away.
Problem Solving
Sometimes, our anger and frustration are caused by very real and inescapable problems in our lives. Not all anger is misplaced, and often it's a healthy, natural response to these difficulties. There is also a cultural belief that every problem has a solution, and it adds to our frustration to find out that this isn't always the case. The best attitude to bring to such a situation, then, is not to focus on finding the solution, but rather on how you handle and face the problem.
Make a plan, and check your progress along the way. Resolve to give it your best, but also not to punish yourself if an answer doesn't come right away. If you can approach it with your best intentions and efforts and make a serious attempt to face it head-on, you will be less likely to lose patience and fall into all-or-nothing thinking, even if the problem does not get solved right away.
Better Communication
Angry people tend to jump to—and act on—conclusions, and some of those conclusions can be very inaccurate. The first thing to do if you're in a heated discussion is slow down and think through your responses. Don't say the first thing that comes into your head, but slow down and think carefully about what you want to say. At the same time, listen carefully to what the other person is saying and take your time before answering.
Listen, too, to what is underlying the anger. For instance, you like a certain amount of freedom and personal space, and your "significant other" wants more connection and closeness. If he or she starts complaining about your activities, don't retaliate by painting your partner as a jailer, a warden, or an albatross around your neck.
It's natural to get defensive when you're criticized, but don't fight back. Instead, listen to what's underlying the words: the message that this person might feel neglected and unloved. It may take a lot of patient questioning on your part, and it may require some breathing space, but don't let your anger—or a partner's—let a discussion spin out of control. Keeping your cool can keep the situation from becoming a disastrous one.
Using Humor
"Silly humor" can help defuse rage in a number of ways. For one thing, it can help you get a more balanced perspective. When you get angry and call someone a name or refer to them in some imaginative phrase, stop and picture what that word would literally look like. If you're at work and you think of a coworker as a "dirtbag" or a "single-cell life form," for example, picture a large bag full of dirt (or an amoeba) sitting at your colleague's desk, talking on the phone, going to meetings. Do this whenever a name comes into your head about another person. If you can, draw a picture of what the actual thing might look like. This will take a lot of the edge off your fury; and humor can always be relied on to help unknot a tense situation.
The underlying message of highly angry people, Dr. Deffenbacher says, is "things oughta go my way!" Angry people tend to feel that they are morally right, that any blocking or changing of their plans is an unbearable indignity and that they should NOT have to suffer this way. Maybe other people do, but not them!
When you feel that urge, he suggests, picture yourself as a god or goddess, a supreme ruler, who owns the streets and stores and office space, striding alone and having your way in all situations while others defer to you. The more detail you can get into your imaginary scenes, the more chances you have to realize that maybe you are being unreasonable; you'll also realize how unimportant the things you're angry about really are. There are two cautions in using humor. First, don't try to just "laugh off" your problems; rather, use humor to help yourself face them more constructively. Second, don't give in to harsh, sarcastic humor; that's just another form of unhealthy anger expression.
What these techniques have in common is a refusal to take yourself too seriously. Anger is a serious emotion, but it's often accompanied by ideas that, if examined, can make you laugh.
Changing Your Environment
Sometimes it's our immediate surroundings that give us cause for irritation and fury. Problems and responsibilities can weigh on you and make you feel angry at the "trap" you seem to have fallen into and all the people and things that form that trap.
Give yourself a break. Make sure you have some "personal time" scheduled for times of the day that you know are particularly stressful. One example is the working mother who has a standing rule that when she comes home from work, for the first 15 minutes "nobody talks to Mom unless the house is on fire." After this brief quiet time, she feels better prepared to handle demands from her kids without blowing up at them.
Some Other Tips for Easing Up on Yourself
Timing: If you and your spouse tend to fight when you discuss things at night—perhaps you're tired, or distracted, or maybe it's just habit—try changing the times when you talk about important matters so these talks don't turn into arguments.
Avoidance: If your child's chaotic room makes you furious every time you walk by it, shut the door. Don't make yourself look at what infuriates you. Don't say, "well, my child should clean up the room so I won't have to be angry!" That's not the point. The point is to keep yourself calm.
Finding alternatives: If your daily commute through traffic leaves you in a state of rage and frustration, give yourself a project—learn or map out a different route, one that's less congested or more scenic. Or find another alternative, such as a bus or commuter train.

I use many of these techniques daily. I have worked relentlessly to really change my disposition and character as a person and the way I deal with my anger. When I chose to let go of all the anger and the energy that it takes, I really began to grow spiritually as a person, and this is an essential part of my personal recovery. Anger does not live with me any longer, has it moved in with you?

You can access the above article from the APA here.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Pause


Pause
Stanza 1

I don’t remember her ever telling me she loved me.
She stood across the room and yelled “What’s wrong with you?”
I don’t remember her tucking me at night.
She continued, “you’re worthless, just like your father.”
Pause…
I put anything into my body that would make my sadness go away.
He sat across from the desk and asked,” So why do you cut on yourself?” I replied, “It feels good”
Pause…
“It feels good compared to what?”
“Life”
She sat across from the desk and said, “We are really concerned about you, how can we help you?”
Pause…
“Can you give me a different life?”
He prescribed me an antidepressant and said, “You are suffering from severe depression”
I remember being upset and taking 20 or 30 pills at once.
Pause…
I hated my life.
She sat across the bed with my baggie she found in my jacket.
Pause…
She said, “I’m going to show you what you’re doing to yourself.”
He stood across the cell and said,” We’re going to teach you young guys a lesson.”
Two inmates held me against the bars as he punched me in the ribs and stomach.
I fell to the floor, lifeless.
She said, ”I love you.” and O.D.’d on a hand full of Valium.
Pause…
They pumped her stomach and I cut an M into my wrist.
Pause…
He sat across the courtroom from me, “the state is pursuing a minimum 15 year sentence”
He put the gun to the side of my head and threatened to pull the trigger.
She lay next to me and cried
Pause…
She said, “ I love you, but you’re killing yourself”
I prayed he would pull the trigger and finish what I had been trying to do.
He approached me from across the room, grabbed my arm, and pulled my sleeve up.
She stood across the hospital room, monitoring my vitals
I told my little brothers through the visitation window
Pause…
He sat across the desk from me, handcuffs smothering my wrists.
We know you did this, fingerprints, eyewitnesses, statements, and photographs, proof.
If I thought it would get me high, I put it in my body.
Pause…
I sat on the edge of the highway overpass   trying to jump
She sat across the bed from me and said, “Lets OD together”
He sat across from me in the day room and said, “What are you in for”
I was slowly destroying everything around me.
Pause…
She sent a letter to the court
He said, “If you don’t change your behavior”
He said, “We are tired of dealing with you”
She said, “We found you unacceptable for our treatment program due to the severity of your involvement”
Pause…
He said, “I didn’t need to be here, that I needed help”
She said, “There was a different way”
He said, “You need to get away from your family”
He said, “We don’t know what to do”
She said, “”I can’t be around you like this”
He said, “I don’t want him in our home”
She said I was a “very troubled and people have given up on me”
He said, He said She said, she said,

I
Wanted to Pause…