Hello Friends today is 8 months sober, today I feel content with my recovery process. I’m grateful for life, human connection, and for finding myself every day. I’m starting to understand what they mean by its not the destination its all about the journey. I have to embrace every circumstance life brings me with a positive outlook. Rewiring my mind to see the world in a positive way. The way I use to see the world and understand the world was with eyes molded from past pain, childhood traumas, low self-esteem and fear. All those intertwined caused my substance abuse disorder. I did not know how to have a human connection so I bonded with alcohol, now I am learning to see everybody in the light of love and understanding without ego.
Last week I felt empty and couldn’t understand why but a spiritual teacher by the name of Jesse Ann Nichols George spoke some words to me that really help me understand the feeling of emptiness. The feeling of emptiness is a sign of progression. I have emptied myself from the negative and I can fill my life with something new, mindful and purpose filled. Going to start pushing myself to write Short stories, still writing poetry but I need to push myself with my writing. I felt a bit stagnant so grateful for her wisdom.
At 8 months sober, my eyes see my surroundings in a different way, I notice things I have yet seen. Small stuff too big stuff from the crack in the wall in my apartment to the love that surrounds my life. My senses are heightened; I feel life to the extreme. I wake up happy, wanting to find purpose in every day. I finding myself in tears most of my days, happy tears also sometimes sober blues tears. Lately the reason is fear based that I am working on, I know if I just stay sober life will open up but I’m also working towards dreams and I get fearful that I may fail but even those fears won’t stop me from working my butt off. Sober is the New Black.
So if there is anyone early in recovery that might be having a hard time, just remember you are also detoxing the mind and your feelings will be up and down, if you just push on those feelings they will level out and life gets clear. The wanting or cravings might not go away right away, but you become so strong that you can change your thoughts to positive ones. That will help you get through the cravings. Take those painful feelings and create art, make it meaningful. It will bring so much joy and peace. Sober is The new Black
I’ve been working on this short story the past couple days, it’s called A boy and his Bear. Hope you like it.
A boy and his bear
Here is a poem I wrote yesterday, go to Disneyland, camping, eat some smore’s. It’s never too late
Me at 8 months sober
This video is of Ira Glass so inspiring if there is anyone who is an artist struggling must watch
This song from Ellie Goulding your song is for anybody who is struggling with recovery, it’s so wonderful and beautiful that you are alive in this world, believe that and also feel that in your heart. I love you so much.
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