Been a while

Not much new...well there is but not much I care to talk about.

Healing Journey - The Journal

A Healing Journey - The Journal

 

 

A Healing Journey - The Journal

For use with Voice of the Angels - A Healing Journey Spiritual Cards, "The Journal" is for recording each time the cards are used.

For each of the twelve different Spans, there are twelve lined and detailed spaces for recording what cards were drawn, the card meanings, and their corresponding interpretations. One is able to maintain a daily or monthly record and progress for each Span. In this way a useful account of transformation can be easily referred to. By using The Journal a person can see progress and transformation right in front of them. It is an important and tangible part of the Healing Journey as it helps integrate mind, body, and spirit.

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

Like the Clash song of the same title as this post I find myself in a quandry over deciding to stay here in Phoenix or to return to California and go back to work in real estate with an old partner and friend of over 20 years. This is a very dear friend of mine who's more like a brother to me than my own biological brothers but also one of dubious moral character. I don't say that in a mean spirited way at all for, if anything, I encouraged, aided and abetted him in most of the illicit behaviors and nameless activities the two of us embarked upon for a great number of years during the late 80's through the late 90's and in fact he was the "stable" one of the duo always having to get up in the middle of the night to bail me out of jail after I had poured him into bed passed out cold, swiped a few c-notes out of his money clip and stolen his car and sped off into the night to places, people and activities that wind a person in jail....and rightly so!

Now that I've been released from probation and am free to leave the state there is an opportunity to return to California to rebuild the real estate consulting firm that I founded in 1990 and later turned over to this partner in 1996 when I moved up to Northern CA to work with my biological brother on his vineyard/winery which I did for seven years along with my vintage guitar business. I had also become involved with a woman up there in what would prove to be the longest relationship of  of my life (to date).. Then in the fall of 2002 my father suffered a stroke that left him partially parylyzed at the age of 80 and I dropped everything to come to Phoenix to care for him for what I thought was to be a mattter of a few months that was to turn out to be the next 6 years of my life. I have chronicled much of those years in this blog....

A Caregiver's Silence

This blog is really the precursor to A Divine Catharsis and since I've closed that chapter in my life and picked it up here I thought it only fitting that I link it back here for continuity's sake. Between the two blogs any reader(s) gets a fairlly detailed look at the past seven years of my life leading up to my current situation.

Blank Canvas....

Today was the first day in 34 years that I have not been under some form of govermental control, either in the military, incarcerated, in a court ordered facility of some variety or on probation. The last time I could say that I was 17 and I'm now 51. I'm 42 days clean and sober, unemployed, near broke, have 15 teeth left and soon to be homeless and living on the street or in a shelter and it really doesn't upset me all that much. I've been through so much in my life that nothing really gets me ruffled...I'll figure something out. My life is like this blank canvas I've been staring at all day...today was a very good day!

Just watched this again...

God, I sound like my brother...

Supplies dwindling and the elevator has reached the basement...

I sit here in the urban abode on a pleasant autumn afternoon taking stock of my current situation, which, at first glance (or even second or third) is bleak, dismal and disparate if not rapidly approaching desperate. By all logical accounts I "should" be laying in a ball in the corner in an absolute anxiety attack not unlike this rubber band ball I toss around for Juliet. I am unemployed, got a can of soup, half a box of crackers, some koolaid, a dozen or so tea bags, some bouillon cubes and a carton and a half of smokes, maybe fifty bucks and a quarter tank of gas in my borrowed '94 Geo and no clue where my next buck is coming from.

Facefuck (book) just obliterated two years worth of my work in one *blip* earlier this week but I remain optomistic to a point where I'm questioning my sanity but since they turned me away at the psych ward last month when I tried to check myself in I guess I'm not crazy either....damn! So what is it? Why am I not freaking out? Is it a "I've been down so long it looks like up to me" sort of manifestation? Perhaps. There most certainly is some sort of conditioning to adverse situations at play for I am no stranger to life behind the eightball to put it lightly. *ahem*

I guess it's a matter of faith more or less; although, I'm not exactly a religious man by any stretch of the imagination. I sit here writing  this as a homeless man is pushing a shopping cart past my window and would be willing to bet he has more money in his pocket than I do yet there is a difference between us.

I received the official release from probation in the mail this week and I am now free to leave and go anywhere in the world I so choose and have my current passport right here yet I've committed to myself to complete the twelve week substance abuse program at the VA and I will complete that four days before my lease expires on this house but I have nowhere I'd rather be...not at this point at least.

So...today is a good day and the rest will fall into place as it would anyway so I'll spare myself the panic attack and have a cup of delicious beef bouillon (*cheers*)!

The Evolution Revolution Continues

So yesterday my primary Facebook account was deleted by Facebook with no warning or explanation. Over two years of intensive work flushed in an instant. Over 4,100 friends gone, a dozen or so groups and fan pages gone, all my causes, blogs, notes, applications, events and posts vanished before my eyes in an instant....*blip*

It may come back up, it may not...

I'm not depressed, not stressing, not freaking, not drinking or using...have food to eat and a place to sleep.

Today is a good day...

Free To Soar....

I just came back from my monthly meeting with my probation officer and she informed me that as of last Friday 10/02/09 the judge signed off on my release from felony (possession) probation and that effective at 12:01 am on 10/17/09 I will be a free man. This will be the first time in 34 years or since I was 17 that I will not be either in the military, incarcerated or under some form of court order or other governmental control and that I will be able to petition the court to have my felony conviction reduced to a misdomeanor and fully restore my civil rights!

Today is a very good day indeed!

Thirty Days In The Hole

Today is the real thirty days clean off meth for me. Some of you may think I'm off on my math but this is the honest date as I did not stay clean even this past time until just prior to entering the intensive outpatient program at the VA Hospital of which I am still in and will remain until mid-December. I am now physically feeling much better although my appetite has yet to kick back in full force and my sleep patterns are still off kilter. My body still seems to need 10-12 hours of sleep per night. Mentally I'm doing better but am prone to severe bouts of depression, shame, remorse and anxiety attacks. My focus is coming back and I'm able to concentrate on one (dozen) task(s) at a time...my "normal" mind seems to have always been a "multi-tasker" so this is a vast improvement over the way it was misfiring a month ago. Financially, I'm still a total mess but I am not homeless(yet) and I'm working daily to improve that as well but for now, I'm letting those chips fall as they may...life is good!

I Couldn't Say It any Better....

When I fell from grace

I never realized

how deep the flood was around me.

A man whose life was toil

was like a kettle left to boil,

and the water left scars on me.

I know now who I am.

If only for a while,

I recognize the changes.

I feel like I did before the

magic wore thin and the "baptism

of stains" began.

They used to say I was

nowhere, man,

heading down

was my destiny.

But yesterday, I swear,

that was someone else not me.

Here I stand at the crossroads edge,

afraid to reach out for eternity,

One step, when I look down,

I see someone else not me.

Looking back and I see

someone else.

All my life they said I

was going down,

but I'm still standing,

stronger, proud.

And today I know there's

so much more I can be.

From where I stand at the crossroads edge,

there's a path leading out to sea.

And from somewhere

deep in my mind,

sirens sing out loud

songs of doubt

as only they know how.

But one glance back reminds, and I see,

someone else not me.

I keep looking back

at someone else... me?

The Madness That Keeps on Giving...

I'm just trying to stay straight and get back to living life and I keep getting pulled into the insanity of others who are out there still out there doing what they do and I have to change my cell phone number again. The ones I stated earlier that weren't calling are now blowing up my phone with this drama or that drama that I'm expected to fix for them. The sad part of it is that there are many innocent people in their lives (kids, parents, spouces etc...) that are caught up in their loved one's insanity that will be hurt if I don't intercede but for me not to would seriously put myself at risk at many levels and I just have to let the chips fall where they may. I sure didn't give any of these folks their first blast and I can't do anything to take away their last...

I Lock Myself In At Nightfall...

So last Sunday I graduated my fellowship program at The Center for Progressive Leadership and flipped right into my 12 week substance abuse treatment program at the VA Hospital the following day...talk about polar opposites...such has been my life for 39 years. I'm pretty much physically detoxed off my 6 month run back into the depths of insanity and demoralization and while the insanity part has subsided the demoralization has gotten far worse as snippets of what I did, with whom I did it with and where I did it pops into conscious memory.

I won't elaborate further as it serves no purpose to do so but let's just say I'm one blessed man for having escaped relatively unscathed and I lock my doors at night more to keep myself in than anyone else out.

Pulling back on the stick full force....

The nosedive of my relapse into my addictions has me pulling back on the stick so hard I've bent the fugger...my landing gear was sheared off by the treetops and I've had to jettison the spare fuel tanks but as they careen into the deck I find myself pulling up and out of the dive with their explosive flames blackening my tail.

I can see a speck of blue sky through the flames, smoke and tree branches stuck to my canopy....it was a close one...the closest yet in this 39 year long dogfight and I've yet to access the flack damage yet I feel the engine sputtering back to life and I am once again heading in an upward trajectory...

I have returned to the fight...

Shadows of Existence

So today is my birthday...my fifty first. It's a beautiful day meteorlogically and metaphorically speaking and I am alive, clean, sober, unincarcerated, have a roof over my head, food in the fridge, have a car in the driveway and so forth....so on...blah, blah.

Think I'll stop at that....and think of all of those who have none of those....

When it rains....

My luck has turned from bad to really, really sucky. I was informed that the investors at GiveClicks.com took heavy losses on another venture and have pulled funding and handed everyone pink slips with no severence, no warning, no nothing and that I won't be paid effective immediately. Great, they were my sole source of income and I have less than $100 to my name and have a stack of bills already late and more due on the 1st. Not sure what to do, not much to do other than start beating the streets for work I guess.

Great timing huh?

Waitin on a Train...

Today I met with a social worker at the VA for my final step in qualifying for the 12 week substance abuse intensive outpatient program and she interviewed my about my life and substance abuse history and I told her of my five 28 day inpatient treatments, use history of every substance, periods of use for each, method of use for each, family history, marital history, employment history, medical hsitory, nonsubstance addictive behavior history and so forth, so on. Needless to say she determined me "qualified" for admission into the program and scheduled me to begin treatment on September 14th which will be about 45 days after I first sought help for my problem and 30 days after my last use. As a lifelong addict, I'm used to waiting. Addicts are always waiting as Lou Reed so aptly chronicled in his song "I'm Waiting For My Man".

I'm waiting for my man
Twenty-six dollars in my hand
Up to Lexington, 125
Feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive
I'm waiting for my man

Hey, white boy, what you doin' uptown?
Hey, white boy, you chasin' our women around?
Oh pardon me sir, it's the furthest from my mind
I'm just lookin' for a dear, dear friend of mine
I'm waiting for my man

Here he comes, he's all dressed in black
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
First thing you learn is you always gotta wait
I'm waiting for my man

Up to a Brownstone, up three flights of stairs
Everybody's pinned you, but nobody cares
He's got the works, gives you sweet taste
Ah then you gotta split because you got no time to waste
I'm waiting for my man

Baby don't you holler, darlin' don't you bawl and shout
I'm feeling good, you know I'm gonna work it on out
I'm feeling good, I'm feeling oh so fine
Until tomorrow, but that's just some other time
I'm waiting for my man

So, you see, I'm used to waitin...

Funny how the phone stops ringing....

It's been a bit more than a week now since I've gone very public about my struggles and I noticed today how much less my phone has rung and I kind of chuckled a bit. The old using friends have now all found out that I'm clean and no longer have anything to offer them and their lack of calls are welcome. It's an unwritten law and fairly understood among users that when one gets clean that the others leave them alone. It's a mix of wanting that person to succeed as they wish they could and an inherint distrust of their former fellow user...it's just the way it goes. Once fast friends through thick and thin, through the daily hustle to keep everything together and everyone dosed simply disappear off the face of the earth. There are remnants of their existence around that I am still finding around the house....a G-bong made out of a soda bottle under the sink or a lone CFM shoe under the bed but they've all scurried off and found another place to get high or another buddy to fix with who will listen to their babbling story of regret, remorse and justification.

It's not just them though...it's all the others who I knew in my "other" life...the business contacts and the non-using friends. Those are the ones who I can only assume feel betrayed by my revelations and to those all I can say is I'm sorry but I didn't become an addict just yesterday. I've been one since I was 12, long before I met you and I've never hid this fact from any of you and quite to the contrary have always been very upfront about it. Did you think I was kidding? Do my open discusssions about my situation embarass you? Make you uncomfortable? Make you want to distance yourself from me? It's ok if they do...distance away if you must but I'm still here, still me...just clean now...not long to you perhaps but to me 10 days is like 10 years.

The Ghosts that Haunt my Soul....

It's early Sunday morning and I'm alone with my cat in the Urban Abode less than 48 hours since attempting to check myself into the psych ward at the VA hospital and being turned away...if that wasn't the ultimate rejection I don't know what is. I guess insane people don't know that they are huh?? It's now one week since I last injested any illicit chemicals and my brain is starting to thaw out and is oozing sorrows of a lifetime onto my floor and I lack a mop adequate enough to to sop them all up. So I've been sleeping on the floor surrounded by these puddles of pain...rolling around in them...feeling their cold wetness...reliving the nightmares over and over again...gonna get out of here...anywhere but here.

Nationwide Sober Living Home and Recovery Resource - Virtual Tours, Brochures, 3D Maps, and More...

Nationwide Sober Living Home and Recovery Resource - Virtual Tours, Brochures, 3D Maps, and More...

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Book, Addicted Like Me, A Mother Daughter Story of Substance Abuse and Recovery

Book, Addicted Like Me, A Mother Daughter Story of Substance Abuse and Recovery

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