Hello friends, today is day 68 sober. I woke up happy as can be. I feel such a relief from yesterday post about my childhood. It was freeing and letting the words fall out from inside me out into the universe. Those words have been suffocating me for years. I am currently sitting on in a café in Koreatown listening to Amanda Palmer Ampersand. Music is such a powerful healing tool, it opens up my heart so I can cry those healing tears and some music fills my soul the strength for the day. Lately I’ve been swimming in music. Koreatown in Los Angeles is my favorite place to live. I currently live close to downtown LA but want to move back to this area. I have the next two days off so film; writing and sleep are on agenda. I opened the email sent from the Editor, it had feedback on my “untitled book”. It all made sense but I haven’t had time to finish all the corrections. My goal is to finish it these two days, so Coffee and more coffee will be my companion. Lately I’ve been feeling creative in my bed with the lights off like a love affair with my lab top. I tend sleep next to my MAC, It goes everywhere with me.
I need to be aware of my triggers when it comes to my Addiction that is called Alcoholism. I need to go back and see what went wrong the last time I got sober, what was the triggers that brought me back to using. First, I did not have a program to help me over come the body disorder the craving part. Second I did not have a program to help me with the mental part of the disorder. I didn’t have the right mental tools. My triggers were boredom, when I was bored I drank. Also loneliness was a trigger. When I felt alone I drank. Now I am alone now and I don’t have cravings at all, instead I crave life, being kind, helping others when I can, writing, and film. I am never am bored, I don’t let myself, and I always have my day plan out so I can stay busy. I use to just wonder through life without long term goals always focusing on instant gratification never trying to work towards long-term gratification that is more rewarding. I was lazy and content with not putting work into myself. Now I try to limit my instant gratification, before if I wanted something I got it without looking at my checkbook. I do allow healthy mind, body and soul instant gratifications but a limit. Now I say no to myself most of the time because I need to save for my long-term goals or gratifications. I won’t let boredom inn. The number one reason for me relapsing was letting the mental disorder convince me that I am not an addict. I am now in control of my thoughts so my mental disorder has no power over my self awareness and higher power and I fully surrender to my higher power that I understand it to be.
I also allow myself to feel sad emotions. I don’t hold it in, letting it out in my tears. I also try and live in the moment all the time, not letting my mind control my life anymore and let my soul lead. Thoughts and mind are amazing if I use it for positively to help me but when I use it to be self -abusive like comparing myself to others and jealous brings me closer to my Addiction. Sober is the New Black.
I am grateful for life, for falling in love with myself and for my higher power.
The greatest love of all Whitney Houston is prefect. The greatest love of all is within me.
Hello friends, today is day 67 sober. This post is the extension from my childhood post I wrote Earlier this week . These middle school years are fresher and more complex. I believe I was an addict before I even had my first substance, I was an addict for numbing myself so I did not have to deal with reality, I was an addict in needing approval from others, I was an addict for doing whatever it takes to be accepted. Again I am not trying to blame my parents or others for my Addiction but I do believe we all have pasts that mold us and are minds that creates the perfect mold for an addict, this is my story. Going through my addiction brings me a clearer understanding on my parent Addictions. I hope my story can help others who suffer from a treatable disorder that seems at times untreatable.
At the end of fifth grade my mother picked up my brother and I from my great grandmas. We grabbed what few things we had and put them in a black trash bag, walked to the nearest bus stop. She got a place in palm desert were I started middle school. We lived in 4 different places in those three years. My mother was still with Bert and the first apartment we lived in was a two bedroom, my brother and I shared a room. That year I started middle school, I was excited also nervous my first day of school. A I asked to be put in drama because film and acting was and still is a passion. In 7th grade I wrote a poem my teacher loved. She had me read it in front of the class, than it was published but I never thought my writing skills can turn into something great. The poem was called “ I am short 7th grader that’s meant to be on stage”. In middle school I never had nice clothing. I felt embarrassed and ashamed most of the time. I was ashamed for being on the free lunch program, so I wouldn’t eat. I would be out from morning to night; I did not want to be home. In school I was a bit of loner. In sixth grade I would sit under trees by myself and eat French fries. Looking back at old self brings on a feeling of wanting to go back and Whisper words of encouragement in my ear. I had a couple of great friends, one life long friend . I was to embarrassed to let anyone in my life and that carried into high school.
We eventually got kicked out from that apartment and moved to another apartment a few blocks away. I don’t remember my mom or stepfather ever being home. When she was home fear was always over taking me. I was playing in a park once and a gate slammed on my hand and a chunk of skin ripped off of my hand. Strangers ran over when they heard my scream. They were asking for my parents but of course they weren’t there. I was 11 at the time. The stranger drove me home. When he knocked at the door and my mom scream for us to use the back door, for some reason she hated us using the front door. She opened the door in a rage only to turn it off in seconds when she seen it was another adult carrying me with blood everywhere. This stranger drove my mother and I to the hospital, I had to get stitches. We never had reliable cars. Growing up we never seen a dentist or doctors. One time in my middle school I had a really bad fever and at one point I told my mother and my step father my head was in great pain and it was getting worse but they sent me back to bed. When you have a fever it can cause you to hallucinate if you get to hot. So I was lying in bed counting sheep and all of a sudden I felt my head explode, I ran into the living room and started climbing the walls thinking I was spider man, screaming the house was on fire. My step father grab me and took me outside where it was cold and my temp went down, they felt I didn’t need to see a doctor.
I just knew if I ever wanted anything in life I would have to do it on my own so around 12 I started working at a local street fair because I needed money. My anxiety came out in full force around this time, I didn’t know what anxiety was. Fear was instilled in me at such a young vital time in my life. You have to be careful with very young kids because you mold their self-esteem and mind. Fear came out in form of food, I was afraid of choking, so for 2 years I didn’t eat. It all started when I swallowed a gum and I thought it got stuck in my throat. After that I chewed my food into liquid and even then I had to concentrate so I can swallow. It was horrible. Even now when I chew my food sometimes my mind takes me back to that place and I find myself chewing my food the same way and force swallowing. (Its kind of crazy what trauma can do to a small child)? It got to the point were I was really skinny like feed the hungry commercials. I do remember my mom crying and telling me that they would put a tube in me if I continue not eating.
I always knew my mom did drugs, the first memory was when I was very young, I believe in 2 grade my brother and I found a small bag of white powder we opened it and it spilled all over us. My mother freaked out, she thought we ate some, so she rushed us to the kitchen and made us drink a cup of milk instead of heading to the doctor. At a young age I knew drugs were the reason my mother was the way she was. Besides my stepfather blowing weed in are face, I walked in my mom in middle school with a huge pile of what powder on a mirror, I believe it was cocaine. She rushed me out of the room and she said it was the neighbors. My mother lying to me must have been the guilt.
My mom let me have my own dog name snuggles in 6th grade. Snuggles gave me that unconditional love and kisses I needed. She was my hero. We squatted in a home most of seventh grade then eventually got kicked out. We moved into a small apartment on the outskirts of palm desert and most of my time I was outside. My mother was getting tried of Bert and she got a job at a local store. She has always been very strict with cleaning and she wanted everything to be spotless. Even if it was clean we never cleaned it good enough, so when she would get home from work she would spot check then beat us or scream at us. One day my mom never came home and disappeared for two weeks, Bert was really depressed. It turn out my mom met this new guy name Sammy. Bert was never really a father to us but he was the constant male in are life. Its funny, how someone can be in your life for so long than in one second they are gone.
My mother men just got worst, this one was name Sammy and he was a drunk and abuser. We packed up and my mother told me my best friend snuggles could not come. I kissed my dog on the head and told her how sorry I was for what I was about to do. I poured all the dog food on the floor and a huge bowl of water. Went next door to let them know if they want to keep her, than left a note on the front gate saying free dog. The only real love I felt was about to be abandon, we locked the door and I can still her snuggles howling for me. As I walked away I start screaming and crying. Till this day I still have pain from that experience, I feel like snuggles didn’t understand it was not my choice to leave her. Not sure if she is still around but if she is I hope she went a great family she deserved with endless amounts of kisses and lots of yummy treats. If she passed on I hope she knows what deep love I have for her still and I want to tell her thank you for giving so much joy in a dark time in my life, she was the light in a very dim room. We always had pets and we always had to abandon them. My mother ex would drive down a dark street throw are dogs out the car while I scream my head off.
So we moved into Sammy moms home. She was so mean, we were not allowed in the kitchen or to eat food, so we ended up at a motel. We walked with trash bags full of are clothes over the freeway to get to the motel. Motels were second home. For a while we would have to walk over a mile to a school bus stop. One day we walked a mile to get to the motel and notice my mom had checkout so we walked back to the bus stop not knowing where to go. She finally picked us up. Sammy didn’t work but some how manage to get us a place. They would always fight and it would be bloody. Sammy would take us to the store and make me stuff my pants with stolen goods and if I didn’t than he would beat me and call me a pussy. At that time I also was stealing food and eating, lunchables, cheese-string, and reeses cups in the restroom stalls of grocery stores. I just knew if I did not I would go hungry. Stealing was a family bonding time, once my stepfather sent my older brother and younger brother into Wal-Mart to steal shoes, they got caught and my stepfather drove off, so my older brother had to call my mom to pick him up.
I never went to my middle school graduation because I did not have a ride and my mother did not care to see it. My brother and I would always sneak into apartments to use the pool. One day we left and came back to see my mom sitting in a back of a cop car with handcuffs. Sammy just got out of jail for beating up my mother and went back to the house to get his things. I had a feeling that day that I should stay home but ended up still heading to the pool. I guess Sammy showed up with his mom and sister and called the cops saying my mom attacked them. That moment change the course of my life. The cops took my mom away and Bert came and told us we cant’ stay with him. Bert drove us to my great grandmas because my father didn’t want my brother and I. To be continue.
Sober is the New Black.
Stay connect with love, Adolfo
Michael Jackson Man in the Mirror is a perfect song for this post
Hello friends its End of day 66 sober and I will be up late, I got some feed back from an Editor, So i am up rewriting. Usually when I write I listen to music or youtube videos. I just came across this Gem on Separating the voice in your head from the real you. It helps me identify that voice cause by Alcoholism that speaks to me in my tone of voice so i thinks it me but really its that addiction. I have not heard. That voice has not spoke to me about wanting to drink but it does come out and tells me a story that makes me sad that can lead to a drink. So i have to watch that voice in my head or commonly known as thoughts. Hope this help anyone. Sober is the New Black. Grateful for the Editor, for Author Michael Singer, and for Oprah
Hello friends today is day 66 sober and it’s been such an amazing day so far. I am currently sitting outside on a bench, it’s a warm but overall beautiful. After watching yesterday post on forgiveness. I felt a weight lift off my back from The wrongs I have done and the wrongs others have done to me. Not that those things are ok but accepting that those things had happen and just let them be. Not beat myself over it in the moment and not hoping or wishing that the past could have been done any different. Such a powerful video.
What I learn is I need to create clear boundaries with certain people in my life including my parents. I never really had boundaries for myself. I would let people do what they want to me whether its being bullied or in relationship. I’ve been cheated on and I allowed myself to allow him to hurt me. It all comes back to me, yes he cheated but I allowed it to go on so it’s really my fault know one else. Yes it hurt but pain is part of life , I choose how long i want to suffer. The more i write down these things the more i realize how many people in my life don’t really know the life i walked including vince. we never went in depth. It feels god to let these out.
Today I choose what kind of relationship I want to have with my parents if any. When I was a kid I didn’t have a choice but now that I am older I can create clear boundaries, so they cant hurt me or anyone for that matter. I was never thought self respect and boundaries at a young age, only until now do I understand what that means. I know I could never live with my parents again or be around them for longer periods of time. I know that the minute I find someone cheating on me I am out the door. One of my EXS back in the desert was very cold and treated me really bad and I stayed. All I wanted was to be love I didn’t care how bad he treated me. I am starting to write down my teen years and will post shortly. Sober is the New Black. I am grateful for creating boundaries, for love, and for you guys who take time to read my post.
Stay connect with love, Adolfo
Leela James cover of Sam cooke “A change is gonna come” is the soundtrack to my life. Its just breathtaking
Hello friends, today is day 65 sober, yesterday when I left work I was headed to write but felt sick and started to get hives. So I decided it was best to head home. I jump in bed at 5pm and woke up today at 11pm, no work. I woke up a few moments in the early am hours to rummage in my fridge for a quick bite, which consisted of peanut butter and pretzels. I feel fine today and the hives are almost gone. Growing up I always got hives and shingles due to stress. I am now at a Boba coffee shop in Koreatown it’s my new favorite spot. It rained a bit today in Los Angeles, which is weird for July. This coffee shop has the best coffee and some great eye candy. This is the second time coming here and I walked in and this boy was standing behind the counter and I was focus on looking for my debit card but when I looked up, I was stunned by his physical appearance, sweat started to pour down my face and I was flush red. He did not have a name tag but I haven’t felt that way in a longtime since Vince, I would always get nervous around him. Even at the end. I will appreciate the physical beauty of a man but will only act when I feel that inner connection that I want. I do wonder what he thought seeing me get all flustered, I know he notice my weirdness, he probably thought man that guy must have workout or man he sweats a lot. Well it was raining so that could have saved me. Ok I need to focus as he’s working right in front of me. I can give you a play by play but this post can’t be all about a beautiful coffee shop guy.
On the way to this coffee shop I was sitting on the metro tuning into peoples conversation and what I heard is a lot of dislike about life, which is valid points because I don’t walk their steps but it got me thinking about myself. I need to be a lot more aware of words I put out into the universe. I am not a negative person but I am not perfect and can always be better. At work I tend to speak out about stuff I don’t like, when I do that then I am not living in a state of gratefulness. I should always say what I love about life or always see the sliver lining. Like I can be waiting for the bus, its hot and I am tired, instead of saying it or let my emotions get tied up in the thoughts I can think or say thank you higher power for this sober ride home and thank you for this job that have that I can live comfortably with and still have some leftovers for my fun. As I get to sober and get to know me, I am finding some amazing awesomeness but also I finding cracks that have been harden from long term self abuse and outer abuse that need to be heal and it starts with my thoughts and thinking. I get millions of thoughts a day and that’s ok and some might be negative and that’s ok but they key is not letting the negative thoughts affects my emotions, words and my attitude of the moment. Sober is the New Black. I am grateful for my inner beauty, beauty in life and this beautiful coffee shop boy. Landon Pigg “Falling in love at a coffee shop” is a perfect song for this moment.
Hello Friends today is day 64 sober, My sleep was not the best last night, I stayed up tossing and turing a bit. My mind was going and going. So I am a bit sleepy today but no midday naps today, going to stay up and head to bed early. I finish a few of my poems yesterday for my series, very excited to share once I finish the rest. So after work ill be heading to my new favorite coffee shop. My goal is to finish 3, the series is 12. All about my struggle with addiction. Still no cravings or missing the booze. I am trying to stay in the moment with positive thoughts and thats been helping. People are asking me about my 12 step program, yes i do have a program i am working and its the foundation of my recovery and i add other spiritual practices to help. Steps 1, 2 ,3 I do every day and I am currently on step four. Step four for me is taking a bit longer and I know am exactly were I need to be in my recovery. Surrounded with positive people and positive vibes. Removing everything toxic.
My previous attempt to get sober was very painful and I fought tooth and nail to not accept the fact that i was an addict. I believe I had a drinking issue and once i healed my past issues than I can drink. I didn’t know that thinking was the untreated Alcoholism talking, trying to survive. Glad I am now self Aware of the Alcoholism in my mind and it that helps me with the steps. Steps are very clear once my mind is clear. Sober is the new Black. I am grateful for life, 12 steps and for having a clear mind.
Hello friends, today is end of Day 63 sober, No cravings for booze, only cravings were for sushi, writing and the Spa. I followed through with all three. I am currently lying in bed sitting with a clear mind. I am working on a Series of Poems all related to Addiction; they are 12 in the series. I kind of want to debut them in an Art show, so I have to look into that. Life has change in the past 63 days. Without that box wine, my creativity is just flowing. I am very grateful for it. I have not touch the fiction I’ve been working on for two years, part of me wants to just start over because I started writing that with a mind tainted with whiskey poison and infected thoughts. I feel my mind is a lot sharper, so maybe I’ll start a remix, keep both and see what’s better. My friend Joel thought me about remix writing. It when someone reads something you wrote and they give you a suggestion on what to change so you do but you always keep the original just incase. Smart idea.
I have always loved writing in high school I was in English honors and college prep classes in English. Receiving Academic awards in English. Love to write and not so much reading. Reading is important and I force myself to read. It helps with writing. In school I would always quick read and still get an A. Same with drama, on my Drama final I would just improve my monologue. The writer and the reader are a duo, a partner in a delicate dance. The writer takes the lead and the reader follows. I have to try and keep the reader glued and on the tips of their toes. I Always have a vision of were I want to take the reader but writing short scripts, fiction and poems are really different. I find scripts the hardest for me because I love details and in writing scripts I create the skeleton. The director is the one who creates the heart, flesh and organs of the film.
I never knew I had a passion and talent for writing until recently, when I was in middle school I wrote something and it got publish and I did well in high school but growing up with that childhood than my teen years ( which I am working on that long read) I just never believed someone who had my kind of past can become something great, I had so much pain I wanted to stay a victim so I can blame my parents and maybe I thought somehow my demise will sober them up. I use to dream of me being in a casket while my family crying around me and I am laughing at them scream you did this! You did this! Twisted right! and maybe ill finally get that love, those hugs and kisses as I lay dead and lifeless. I was angry in high School, I was on my way than my Junior year of high school I became homeless. Ill get into that on another post.
I use to think, I need to drink to create art but I am realizing all the stuff I wrote was so empty and false bullshit. I am not creating from the divine of my soul, the Essence of my being, I was creating from a sad victim, Angry and most of the time I was so drunk it took me two days to write two lines, so than ill do two lines snow white and that will get me going. It never flowed and I would forget my ideas. I am grateful for Sober is the New Black, For my Readers, And for the Love I found in Sobriety.
Hello friends today is day 63 sober, I stayed up late last night listening to some music. Yesterday post was a bit scary and right after I posted it I felt sick for an hour. I did weep but afterwards I felt a beautiful relief. I am sure there is more weeping to do and eventually I will create a space between childhood past and my emotions so when I do go back to the past for reflecting that space wont let my past affect my present emotions. After my writing session I went and visited a great friend Mel, we watch TV and ate a bunch of horrible foods. I feel fine today and focus. I never really talked about my childhood because I felt ashamed if people knew. Growing up I thought people would look down and judge me but yesterday I saw a lot of compassion, empathy and love. I now know those things that happen aren’t who I am; who I am is whom I choose to be right now in this moment. As a kid those things were out of my control, I just had to get through and I am grateful I got out. Addiction is forcing me to heal my past, in a way Addiction is a blessing because I would still be a prisoner from my past and eventually passing away a prisoner not ever fully evolving or growing.
Today my short-term goal is to start a series of poems something healthy for my mind and a spa trip something healthy for my body. I want to start treating my body with the respect it deserves. For so long I treated my body with no respect and wasn’t fully aware of the damage I have caused. I was told I have a fatty liver by my doctor and even that did not scare me into quitting. I also will be seeing Lenny today one of my closes friend, we always laugh and have a good time. I am grateful for everyone who let me share yesterday. I am writing down my teen years and will be posting it hopefully sometime this week. I am grateful for Sober is the New Black and for love. The killers is a band I love so much and be still is such a powerful song. Hope you enjoy
This long read is Dark that might affect a lot of my family but its part of the process of healing. The point of it isn’t to hurt but to heal and write down with the eyes of that young child. Not the view of my brothers or trying to rationalize my parent’s behavior. I need to heal the hurting young kid that still weeps. Growing up I never talk to anyone about my childhood and teen years, my good friend Nikka and Marquita who I knew since kindergarten never met my mother nor my father. I put on a fake smile and denied everything. Living in a fantasy of false and pretend fairytale that was really a dark hole that consists of blood baths, fear, homelessness, molestation, drugs and selling my body. My goal is to go back and save that young kid with a beautiful smile and those big rounded brown eyes. This is my childhood from k-5, the memories are a bit jumbled and hard to remember the exact timeline but the events are real and the pain is real. I love my parents but this words needs to be let out. It will be a two part child hood and teen years.
I was born on a rainy day on 11:11:85 in Palm Springs California, I was the first born on my father’s side and at the time my mother already had a child from a previous marriage. Growing up I always lived in fear. My parent’s energy was so hostile and vulgar. Since I could remember I was walking on eggs shells that had needles. If I even looked the wrong way I would get beaten to the pole. My parents were on drugs most of my life. Around 3years old I remember living with my two brothers and my birth parents. They would get into these fights that would scare me to the core so bad that even when we were having a good time I was so scared of them fighting. I am extremely sensitive. I remember staying up most nights, with my ear to the their bedroom door listening. Waiting for the fight. When I heard peace I felt comfort so I would head to bed for few hours than my anxiety would kick in and so my ear was back at the door. I remember one day my parents were on the couch watching TV and I kept running from my bed to the end of the hallway so I can see if they were fighting. Eventually they notice and instead of comforting me a 3 year old they screamed and threaten to beat me. So I would run and hide. I don’t understand how parents can be that way to their own child. They are the cause of the uneasy feelings. I would always be afraid when my father would come home from work. At my age I couldn’t process fear so I acted out with anxiety and when I did they would beat me for it. I remember my father was trying to sleep and I had a cough, he didn’t want to hear me so he threw me out in rain in the middle of the night and locked the door of course I was screaming my head off. This pain I carry is deep its in every cell of my body and bone marrow. I don’t remember much from the time when my parents were together, just a blur. If I were to sum up that time it would consist of fights, extreme Fear, a lot of spanking, yelling, walking in on my parents having sex.
Eventually my parent split. I had a babysitter that would come over; he lived across the street from the house. He was a family friend at the time and was a teenager I believe. When he would watch me he would show me his private part and have me touch him and do stuff to him. I am not sure if I seen my parents do it to each other and I wanted to act it out, somehow I knew mommy and daddy did those things, I had to be around 3 years old. I never told anyone this before and it feels good to speak out about it. We did not always have a babysitter. I remember Waking up and my mother would be gone so I would run around the house scared screaming and crying. Again fear! I kind of hate her right now as I am writing this because fear plays a huge role in my life now. When I look at the very few pictures I have of me as a child I just want to give myself a big hug, I really don’t remember hugs or kisses at all. I was such a cute kid that was very sensitive. The day after my father left a guy name Bert moved in and my mom said this is my new father and I have to call him dad. My mother must have been cheating on my father since the move in came quickly. My mom left my older brother father for my father quick too, not sure if I am even my father son. I don’t remember any family members really stepping in or even noticing. My older brother ran away to his father leaving my younger brother and I. From the outside my brother and I looked put together but the reality is it was noticeable that we were being abuse and I have forgiven my other family members for not stepping in, it took some time but I will never forget.
My mother always depended on men for everything security, money, and happiness. My father was the same way with women. Bert my new father was a stoner who never worked, he would blow weed smoke in my brothers face and I all the time. He never kept a job, I think when my mother met him he was working for the city and got fired for buying booze with his work shirt on. After that he did odd jobs to get by and my mother never worked. Since no one kept a job we moved around a lot. When I started kindergarten my parents didn’t or couldn’t have my brother and I so they dropped us off with my great grandma. She was such a wonderful human that I am grateful for, Anita was her name and she made the best homemade tortilla with beans. She would get me ready in the morning. My mother eventually came back for us. My first grade memory that sticks to me was my mom calling me inside because she said, my grandma was on the phone, and she was lying. I ran inside, my mom was behind the door with a high heal behind her as I ran in from excitement she pounds my forehead with her heal blood everywhere my scream echoed. It still does till this day. My younger brother behind me getting that same heal across his head covered in my blood. Me and my brother got moved around all over, we moved to La Quinta and my mother did not want to enroll me in school so I walked myself to the local elementary school and gave them the packets the first day of school and again know one thought of calling social services.
School was never important to my mother, my brother started kindergarten at 7 years old. The next year when I went to enroll again they said I never was a student. Eventually we were kick out of my aunts house. So from k-5 I was in 4 different schools been kick out of every home because my mother and Bert never paid their rent. We would lose everything in storages. I have nothing from my childhood except a few photos. I only had Trash bags of clothes. In 4 and 5th grade, we were really poor and went to bed hungry often. That’s when stealing really became a family habit. I was put in doggy doors so I can steal food for the family. We squatted in the home for a while didn’t pay rent and the owners couldn’t get us out.
We never felt Secure. My mom was so abusive, neglect full and wouldn’t really feed us. So between moving all around there was pretty horrible blood baths even at one point living in what now seems like a crack house with a gun put to are heads. I wish I could have saved my brother. My mother had me lie to my teachers and birth father about my bruises and knots. So lying, fear, lack of security, hurt and anger was instilled in me at a very young age and became the foundation of me. I am so grateful I had my brother to lean on and to help pass time. My brother and I became animals stealing food from stores, sneaking food in the middle of the night to are room like rodents. When we had roofs over are head it never was a home. At times we did not have Electricity so are house will get dark really quick. Are fridge would be an igloo cooler and showers would be in the dark. At a young age I lived in my mind the whole time make believe was my best friend.
There is so much more I can write down but these are the ones that stick out at the moment maybe ill save in for my bio. So now I go and weep for that hurting 3 year old who lives in fear from people hurting him, going to hold his hand and kiss his forehead while he weeps. Going to sit next to him and ease his anxiety with a sweet lullaby. I want to carry him from that past of profound misfortunate and into the moment of endless possibility. So he can see the beauty in life. Sober is the New Black
Hello friends today is day 62 sober, I am sitting in Koreatown in this amazing peaceful café that has such a beautiful surrounding. Today is my first Thursday off of work in awhile. I slept in pretty late, it felt so good to let my body choose when its ready to wake. I woke up so happy, my usual routine when I first wake is to turn to my side and grab my phone, and check my blog Sober is the New Black than Facebook. It feels so great seeing the love from others and it warms my day. Today my plan is to finish my long read that consist of my childhood and teen years. Yesterday I talked to most of my family and they are so supportive in my journey in sobriety, Very grateful for their love. When i get in the shower I meet with my higher-power and i cleanse yesterdays fears and worries. Today is a fresh start with endless possibilities, no matter that state of mind I am currently in or was I control my mind and thoughts, good ones inn, bad ones out. Not going to be a prisoner of yesterdays actions but a pioneer of today moments! This is a short post but my goal is to have my childhood and teen years up later today so I have to prepare my mind and prepare to weep for that 3 year old Adolfo. Leaving with a song that is so inspiring, I am grateful for life, being Sober, and for everybody who is in recovery standing with me in this battle, Sober from past, sober from ego, sober from pain, sober from fear, sober from Booze
Skyscraper From Demi Lovato is for Alcohol that has taken it all away.
Sober Is The New Black 