How often is it that we get what we pray for?
Maybe it would be better to ask; How often is it that we're wise enough to know that we have gotten what we prayed for?
Yesterday the relationship that I have been wanting to save and terrified of losing for over two years came crashing down around me in such a way that I could not possibly ignore the role that my shortcomings and failures as a man played in it. I laid my head down last night after having heard the woman I love call me a monster and a loser and a junkie and a couple of other things that I probably shouldn't post here.
But, before I closed my eyes, I prayed for her... That she might someday forgive me, that her pain would be soothed and most importantly that the anger and hatred she was feeling would somehow not turn on her and destroy her... Trust me that's one of the dangers of anger I know all too well from firsthand experience.
The miracle, at least the part that I saw happened this morning when she called me, despite having vowed never to speak to me again, and we had what was probably the most productive, honest and open conversations I can remember recently.
Sometimes ' happily ever after' isn't exactly the way we plan or expect it to be, but I'm learning that I don't always have the common sense to stop pushing for my version of it until I've made myself and everyone I care about miserable. I hope God knows how grateful I am for His mysterious way, and I hope she knows how proud I am of her and how much she deserves to be happy.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Tenacity...
I cannot quit. I just won't die. Sometimes I just wish I could find a nice, quiet, shady spot on the sidewalk and let life pass me by. Does anyone understand that?
I'm not saying that I'm suicidal because in reality I'm not, I love life and I want so much more out of it, it's just that sometimes it seems that every hurdle, every obstacle I overcome uncovers twenty more that are higher, deeper, harder than the last. And of course, the greatest obstacles are usually the ones within me. Lately, for instance, I have been dealing with so much anger towards everything and everyone around me. I know that no one is perfect and that definitely includes me, but sometimes it's like all I can see is peoples' flaws and I'm really struggling not to judge people because I know that I have a lot to be judged for but... I don't know how to even say this except honestly: sometimes I really hate just about everyone I come into contact with.
Being in recovery after somewhere around twenty years of active addiction, one of the first things I have had to realize and cope with is my deeply established separation from society at large and how, like so many other long term addicts I have lost many basic social skills.
Oh, I know how to carry on a simple conversation with someone, but for so long I only spoke to people when I was trying to con them out of money, or convince them that I was 'normal' or pass some other type of bullshit that I really don't know how to have a 'normal' conversation. What's worse and really getting to me is that I really don't know why I would want to have a conversation with anyone now. I feel something like loneliness a lot lately, and I get jealous when I see people sitting with friends at a sidewalk cafe, enjoying a pleasant summer evening and laughing and just being together... I know I'm missing out on something there, I just don't really know what it is and how to go about joining the club. I don't even know exactly what it is that I'm missing out on or why exactly it hurts me to see people like that and know that I'm not a part of that world. Does that even make any sense?
I guess it's probably just as simple and corny as me being afraid that if I do open myself up to friendship and put myself 'out there' for the world to see then I'm opening myself up to rejection and hurt but how do I get past that? And what is the reason for it?
Technically, human beings don't need social interaction for life. A healthy human being could conceivably live out their entire life without ever setting their eyes on another human if they had a steady source of food, water etc... So why do we seek one another out? Why do I feel lonely? Is there anything more to it than the survival instinct that tells us that there is safety in numbers? Am I whining?
Last week I went through one of the most difficult and painful times I have experienced in recent memory, bar none... I posted something on facebook along the lines of: 'I'm in more emotional and spiritual pain than I've ever known and I wish I wouldn't wake up tomorrow.' , and out of all the people who know me and claim to care, all the people who have my info and claimed to be so excited when I reappeared on-line and reached out to everyone to let them know I was still alive and trying to get back into the world, all I got were two one or two line facebook messages from two of my cousins that basically said 'That's too bad, don't give up'. I'm a grown man and it's no one's job to mollycoddle me or even to care about me, but if that's the extent of how much people care about me, if I don't even warrant a phone call, what's the point of making 'friends' again....
Sorry if this was a downer, but it's my blog and I can write whatever the hell I want.
I'm not saying that I'm suicidal because in reality I'm not, I love life and I want so much more out of it, it's just that sometimes it seems that every hurdle, every obstacle I overcome uncovers twenty more that are higher, deeper, harder than the last. And of course, the greatest obstacles are usually the ones within me. Lately, for instance, I have been dealing with so much anger towards everything and everyone around me. I know that no one is perfect and that definitely includes me, but sometimes it's like all I can see is peoples' flaws and I'm really struggling not to judge people because I know that I have a lot to be judged for but... I don't know how to even say this except honestly: sometimes I really hate just about everyone I come into contact with.
Being in recovery after somewhere around twenty years of active addiction, one of the first things I have had to realize and cope with is my deeply established separation from society at large and how, like so many other long term addicts I have lost many basic social skills.
Oh, I know how to carry on a simple conversation with someone, but for so long I only spoke to people when I was trying to con them out of money, or convince them that I was 'normal' or pass some other type of bullshit that I really don't know how to have a 'normal' conversation. What's worse and really getting to me is that I really don't know why I would want to have a conversation with anyone now. I feel something like loneliness a lot lately, and I get jealous when I see people sitting with friends at a sidewalk cafe, enjoying a pleasant summer evening and laughing and just being together... I know I'm missing out on something there, I just don't really know what it is and how to go about joining the club. I don't even know exactly what it is that I'm missing out on or why exactly it hurts me to see people like that and know that I'm not a part of that world. Does that even make any sense?
I guess it's probably just as simple and corny as me being afraid that if I do open myself up to friendship and put myself 'out there' for the world to see then I'm opening myself up to rejection and hurt but how do I get past that? And what is the reason for it?
Technically, human beings don't need social interaction for life. A healthy human being could conceivably live out their entire life without ever setting their eyes on another human if they had a steady source of food, water etc... So why do we seek one another out? Why do I feel lonely? Is there anything more to it than the survival instinct that tells us that there is safety in numbers? Am I whining?
Last week I went through one of the most difficult and painful times I have experienced in recent memory, bar none... I posted something on facebook along the lines of: 'I'm in more emotional and spiritual pain than I've ever known and I wish I wouldn't wake up tomorrow.' , and out of all the people who know me and claim to care, all the people who have my info and claimed to be so excited when I reappeared on-line and reached out to everyone to let them know I was still alive and trying to get back into the world, all I got were two one or two line facebook messages from two of my cousins that basically said 'That's too bad, don't give up'. I'm a grown man and it's no one's job to mollycoddle me or even to care about me, but if that's the extent of how much people care about me, if I don't even warrant a phone call, what's the point of making 'friends' again....
Sorry if this was a downer, but it's my blog and I can write whatever the hell I want.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Paying dues & passing judgement...
I haven't posted for a couple of days because things have been a little hectic, for the most part in a good way, I got the opportunity to put some work in this weekend and even though I won't actually get the check till next week the money was very good and it was easy work at an outdoor event, a hispanic heritage festival so it basically came down to getting paid to enjoy the weather and look at scantily clad beautiful latinas ;-)
More importantly though, it was an opportunity to see what the "normal" people do on beautiful sunny summer weekends. Of course I am referring to your everyday average non-addict citizens, whom I also occasionally refer to as civilians, earthlings, squares or just plain weirdos. Okay I know from experience that the odds are heavily in favor of there having been quite a few ' closet' addicts/alcoholics in attendance, there always are at any given event with a large attendance. In fact you'd probably be surprised at how many there were, if there were some easy way of distinguishing the actively using addict who hasn't quite slipped far enough down the slope to the point of obviousness just yet. But I digress.
The crux of the matter is that it was a valuable experience because I was given the chance to see and reinforce for myself what it is that I aspire to. I watched mothers and fathers and grandparents and friends spending time with each other and enjoying one anothers company. I saw business people and entrepreneurs engaging in commerce, money being made and connections being forged. I saw beautiful, smart, proud Latinos/as shattering stereotypes and cultural stigmata that have defined us in the minds of too many for too long.
In short, I saw life in action... something that for a long time I did everything in my power to avoid and then complained that I felt ' left out'. And although it felt great to see and even participate in something like this, I couldn't help but get a little down on myself realizing how much of life and how many events like this I cheated myself out of over so many years of chasing the the ghost. I try my best as a matter of protecting my recovery not to get too wrapped up in thoughts like that, as important as it is to acknowledge my responsibility for my circumstances, it is equally important to maintain a certain level of perspective and not let myself get caught up in self pity or feelings of worthlesness. That's an almost guaranteed first step on the road to relapse... As some AA old-timers are quick to jibe:
"Poor me, poor me.. pour me a drink." ;-)
I have been having a bit of trouble lately with something that's got me a bit uncomfortable with myself but I can't seem to get a grip on it.. Or maybe its more truthful to say that I really don't want to get a grip on it.
What I'm getting at is the habit I've gotten into lately of totally spazzing out on homeless people, especially men who constantly approach me on the street trying to panhandle off me. The thing about it that gets to me the most is that Philadelphia is one city where you'll never actually starve to death if you don't mind standing in line. Some days are better than others and there have been plenty of times when I've laid my head down at night with my stomach still growling, but there are churches, shelters and outreach places that feed people every day of the year in this city. (Note: There is, oddly enough a disparity in the amount of places that only serve men, but its still not enough that women are likely to starve either.)
Superficially I hate that these guys are the ones who make it bad for everyone on the street. The city is cracking down more and more every day to the point that I have to be careful if I want to go sit on a bench in the air conditioning at Suburban Station for fear of getting a loitering citation, (and believe me Philly cops don't need any special invitation to act like overgrown schoolyard bullies, but that's a subject for another blog, which is definitely coming soon) and its all because the people of this city have gotten tired of having people actually walk up and lean over their food at McDonalds, (I've had this happen to me!) to ask for a dollar.
So on more than one recent occasion I have found myself literally losing it; cursing, name-calling etc... when I've been approached by a filthy, smelly bum with a hand out acting like I'm obligated to give him something. Or, even worse the ones who think they're some kind of slick with a bullshit line that always starts out with "Excuse me sir, I don't mean no disrespect, but..." and leads into how they're stranded/need medication/have to get a car out of a lot but lost their wallet/you get the idea. I know some people are sick, and some really don't know better but the truth is most are just trying to get their bag or bottle for the day and it pisses me off to no end because I bust my a$$ to not look or smell like a bum and to find work and make meetings and some days just to not give up and these guys probably expend more effort and energy than I do and I'd be shocked if any of them clear $20 on a good day.
So, given the fact that I'm writing this on my phone laying on my park bench, does all the preceding make me a hypocritical judgmental prick?
Maybe, but on Thursday I start the highest paying job I've ever had and I got it by keeping up my appearance as well as my hope and not by standing on a street corner asking if anyone can spare a job!
More importantly though, it was an opportunity to see what the "normal" people do on beautiful sunny summer weekends. Of course I am referring to your everyday average non-addict citizens, whom I also occasionally refer to as civilians, earthlings, squares or just plain weirdos. Okay I know from experience that the odds are heavily in favor of there having been quite a few ' closet' addicts/alcoholics in attendance, there always are at any given event with a large attendance. In fact you'd probably be surprised at how many there were, if there were some easy way of distinguishing the actively using addict who hasn't quite slipped far enough down the slope to the point of obviousness just yet. But I digress.
The crux of the matter is that it was a valuable experience because I was given the chance to see and reinforce for myself what it is that I aspire to. I watched mothers and fathers and grandparents and friends spending time with each other and enjoying one anothers company. I saw business people and entrepreneurs engaging in commerce, money being made and connections being forged. I saw beautiful, smart, proud Latinos/as shattering stereotypes and cultural stigmata that have defined us in the minds of too many for too long.
In short, I saw life in action... something that for a long time I did everything in my power to avoid and then complained that I felt ' left out'. And although it felt great to see and even participate in something like this, I couldn't help but get a little down on myself realizing how much of life and how many events like this I cheated myself out of over so many years of chasing the the ghost. I try my best as a matter of protecting my recovery not to get too wrapped up in thoughts like that, as important as it is to acknowledge my responsibility for my circumstances, it is equally important to maintain a certain level of perspective and not let myself get caught up in self pity or feelings of worthlesness. That's an almost guaranteed first step on the road to relapse... As some AA old-timers are quick to jibe:
"Poor me, poor me.. pour me a drink." ;-)
I have been having a bit of trouble lately with something that's got me a bit uncomfortable with myself but I can't seem to get a grip on it.. Or maybe its more truthful to say that I really don't want to get a grip on it.
What I'm getting at is the habit I've gotten into lately of totally spazzing out on homeless people, especially men who constantly approach me on the street trying to panhandle off me. The thing about it that gets to me the most is that Philadelphia is one city where you'll never actually starve to death if you don't mind standing in line. Some days are better than others and there have been plenty of times when I've laid my head down at night with my stomach still growling, but there are churches, shelters and outreach places that feed people every day of the year in this city. (Note: There is, oddly enough a disparity in the amount of places that only serve men, but its still not enough that women are likely to starve either.)
Superficially I hate that these guys are the ones who make it bad for everyone on the street. The city is cracking down more and more every day to the point that I have to be careful if I want to go sit on a bench in the air conditioning at Suburban Station for fear of getting a loitering citation, (and believe me Philly cops don't need any special invitation to act like overgrown schoolyard bullies, but that's a subject for another blog, which is definitely coming soon) and its all because the people of this city have gotten tired of having people actually walk up and lean over their food at McDonalds, (I've had this happen to me!) to ask for a dollar.
So on more than one recent occasion I have found myself literally losing it; cursing, name-calling etc... when I've been approached by a filthy, smelly bum with a hand out acting like I'm obligated to give him something. Or, even worse the ones who think they're some kind of slick with a bullshit line that always starts out with "Excuse me sir, I don't mean no disrespect, but..." and leads into how they're stranded/need medication/have to get a car out of a lot but lost their wallet/you get the idea. I know some people are sick, and some really don't know better but the truth is most are just trying to get their bag or bottle for the day and it pisses me off to no end because I bust my a$$ to not look or smell like a bum and to find work and make meetings and some days just to not give up and these guys probably expend more effort and energy than I do and I'd be shocked if any of them clear $20 on a good day.
So, given the fact that I'm writing this on my phone laying on my park bench, does all the preceding make me a hypocritical judgmental prick?
Maybe, but on Thursday I start the highest paying job I've ever had and I got it by keeping up my appearance as well as my hope and not by standing on a street corner asking if anyone can spare a job!
Friday, July 8, 2011
Life on life's terms...
Today I got kicked out of a place that I go to from time to time to look for work. Okay, today I just went there to get some free coffee and work on this blog a little bit, but still it beats the hell outta sittin here at Suburban Station just begging the cops to kick me out. Why did I get kicked out you ask? Well in all honesty it was mostly my fault and leave it at that shall we?
The real point is that I'm angry today, angry at the person I got into an argument with, angry at my wife's family because they're kicking her and our 11 month old son out of their house with no where to go but mostly I'm angry at myself for getting into this situation to begin with, and therein lies the problem.
See addicts don't like to have to accept personal responsibility. In fact we hate it. In fact if it weren't for the fact that I know full well the disastrous consequences of running from personal responsibility, well...
So here I sit, trying to type a blog entry using android swype, which really doesn't work too well and waiting for lunch time at the mission. I'll post more later, especially about the situation with my son and how it got this way, but for now I think I'm done.
The real point is that I'm angry today, angry at the person I got into an argument with, angry at my wife's family because they're kicking her and our 11 month old son out of their house with no where to go but mostly I'm angry at myself for getting into this situation to begin with, and therein lies the problem.
See addicts don't like to have to accept personal responsibility. In fact we hate it. In fact if it weren't for the fact that I know full well the disastrous consequences of running from personal responsibility, well...
So here I sit, trying to type a blog entry using android swype, which really doesn't work too well and waiting for lunch time at the mission. I'll post more later, especially about the situation with my son and how it got this way, but for now I think I'm done.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
In the shadows of greatness...
Author's Note: If you know me personally and have been invited to partake in this blog, please refrain from passing judgement on me as a person. I have limited space and time here in which to encapsulate the experiences of one hell of a life and I'm doing my best. Thank you.
Okay, this is my first official posting on this blog, not for lack of desire, but as you'll come to see my resources, both chronological as well as physical are very limited.
First, a brief explanation of the title of this posting and of the blog itself I guess;
Just For Today: My name is Justin and I am a greatfully recovering addict. For those who don't know, the phrases "Just for today", or "One day at a time" are commonly used by people in twelve step recovery programs, AA/NA/GA etc... as a reminder that by practicing the Twelve Steps of recovery as first outlined in the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" we are able to abstain from our addictive behaviors and, more importantly, recover from the deliterious state of mind that induces them for a period of no longer than 24 hours. Every day, given the spiritual principles the program teaches me is an opportunity as well as an obligation to be a productive member of society.
In The Shadow Of Greatness: I am also, as a direct result of my addiction issues, homeless. I mean that in the most literal sense: though I have resided for periods over the last couple of years in various recovery/halfway houses, in-patient programs, jails etc... I will sleep tonight, like last night on a park bench. You wouldn't know it if you bumped into me on the street, I don't stink, I groom and bathe regularly and change clothes daily... there is a difference between being homeless and being what most people think of as a 'bum', but it is still the truth of my situation.
I didn't choose that title because of me and I'm not really writing this about me, there will be enough time for that later. Suffice it to say that I created this situation for myself and I am blessed in that if I continue to stay clean and sober one day at a time, I will build myself a way out of this situation and be a better man for it.
I'm writing because every day the government is shutting down more and more programs and services.
Here in Philadelphia we are losing almost six-hundred (600) beds in men's shelters this year alone.
Every day you can sit outside the family shelter and watch women with infants crying because they've been turned away and have no where else to go.
I may not lay my head down with a full stomach every night and as the days go on I'll share more in this space about my own struggles including the fact that I may well soon lose my own son to foster care because he and his mother might be out on the street. But I thank God every night that I am healthy and can go out and look for work and take occasional side jobs that come my way here and there.
I'm writing this to ask you to be aware, whatever city or town you live in, there are shadows where people like me sleep at night. Some of us know we put ourselves there and struggle every day to make it back to the light, but some can't, especially the babies, pray for them because chances are someone prayed for you.
Okay, this is my first official posting on this blog, not for lack of desire, but as you'll come to see my resources, both chronological as well as physical are very limited.
First, a brief explanation of the title of this posting and of the blog itself I guess;
Just For Today: My name is Justin and I am a greatfully recovering addict. For those who don't know, the phrases "Just for today", or "One day at a time" are commonly used by people in twelve step recovery programs, AA/NA/GA etc... as a reminder that by practicing the Twelve Steps of recovery as first outlined in the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" we are able to abstain from our addictive behaviors and, more importantly, recover from the deliterious state of mind that induces them for a period of no longer than 24 hours. Every day, given the spiritual principles the program teaches me is an opportunity as well as an obligation to be a productive member of society.
In The Shadow Of Greatness: I am also, as a direct result of my addiction issues, homeless. I mean that in the most literal sense: though I have resided for periods over the last couple of years in various recovery/halfway houses, in-patient programs, jails etc... I will sleep tonight, like last night on a park bench. You wouldn't know it if you bumped into me on the street, I don't stink, I groom and bathe regularly and change clothes daily... there is a difference between being homeless and being what most people think of as a 'bum', but it is still the truth of my situation.
I didn't choose that title because of me and I'm not really writing this about me, there will be enough time for that later. Suffice it to say that I created this situation for myself and I am blessed in that if I continue to stay clean and sober one day at a time, I will build myself a way out of this situation and be a better man for it.
I'm writing because every day the government is shutting down more and more programs and services.
Here in Philadelphia we are losing almost six-hundred (600) beds in men's shelters this year alone.
Every day you can sit outside the family shelter and watch women with infants crying because they've been turned away and have no where else to go.
I may not lay my head down with a full stomach every night and as the days go on I'll share more in this space about my own struggles including the fact that I may well soon lose my own son to foster care because he and his mother might be out on the street. But I thank God every night that I am healthy and can go out and look for work and take occasional side jobs that come my way here and there.
I'm writing this to ask you to be aware, whatever city or town you live in, there are shadows where people like me sleep at night. Some of us know we put ourselves there and struggle every day to make it back to the light, but some can't, especially the babies, pray for them because chances are someone prayed for you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)