mclaincausey's journal

I feel so fortunate. Months ago, I would have called it "blessed." Perhaps that is a better word. Not for the religious overtones, but possibly for the spiritual ones. (Although "fortunate" has some deliciously Pagan overtones that are also appealing!)

Two years ago I was living in my car, scraping by selling drugs and perpetrating various crimes. I was shooting up, and even near-death overdoses (2) couldn't discourage my habit. The misery I have known is incredible, impossible, unfair, and insurmountable--but here I am, happy as a lark. At times lonely, generally dissatisfied with my career, barely making ends meet, and with plenty to bitch about. Plenty of things I could regret, plenty of shitty things I've done to people and myself that I could perpetually beat myself up over. Trying to make things right, even when my efforts were met with disgust, took a lot of the power out of those things at least. But there are still plenty of things I will never be able to change. But determining what I can change and what I can not has been a big part of my journey. The next step was to then learn how to accept the many things I was dissatisfied with, but had no power to change.

So, rather than engaging in my past modus operandi of stewing in hopelessness and self-pity, I've devised a gameplan to try and squeeze what I want out of life. If I fail, I'll try again--and again, and again--the journey is the prize. When I succeed, the sacrifices made will seem inconsequential next to the satisfaction of taking place in life, of reaping its rewards. Life itself, in fact, is a reward, or more accurately, a gift, since we didn't have to do anything to get it. How we use it is up to us--I choose not to squander my life anymore. Life is a gift: that is the most valuable piece of knowledge in the world.

So I'm going back to school in the spring, to get another degree--this time, one that will help me professionally, that may even challenge me intellectually, rather than one that comes naturally. The struggles I have put myself through, the arduous paths I have set myself on, the boulders I've thrown in front of my path, the dives I've taken over the precipice. To be here, alive, and not in jail: if there is such a thing as a miracle, it took a string of them to get me here intact.

So I've been reading journal entries here on NaO, and in them seen a suffering akin to that of my past life. I see obviously gifted, beautiful souls pouring themselves out, wailing in misery against the world and its injustices. How could people have so much and appreciate so little?, I think to myself. But then I remember the nature of the beast, and how helplessly I was crushed underfoot, despite all the opportunity, and wasted opportunity, in my life.

I have to say, I don't miss those days. Not one bit. But I haven't forgotten from whence I came. I can't say that the memory hasn't faded in good times and bad--butI haven't forgotten what it feels like to be shut out from life's light, cut adrift and lost in a Sargasso sea of misery, self loathing, and anger. To read people echoing some of the same sentiments recalls what life used to mean to me: nothing.

Sufferers: if any of you are reading this, I'd like to tell you a few things. You are not alone. There are many of us that understand your pain and have lived it, or do live it, or will live it. You may be unable to surmount your agony by yourself, but together, a few of us can accomplish almost anything. There is always hope: anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar, even if that "anyone" is you yourself. And speaking of self-defeat, beating yourself up, telling yourself you are no good, well, those are also lies. You deserve happiness and success, and you can get it and more--it's yours for the taking. Life is yours for the living. Life is a treasure, and it is beautiful. You will get through this--WE will get through this, together. If you really want to and are willing to work for it, that is.

One of the keys to the formula which saved me from death was helping others. I don't claim to understand what happened to transform my self and my life, but I know that the single biggest piece of that puzzle was helping those who were as bad off or even worse off than me--and trust me, it isn't hard to find such people. If you are reading this, you are better off than someone: a.) you can read b.) you have access to a computer c.) you are alive! Working at soup kitchens and helping others who suffered the slings and arrows of addiction mreally helped me in my recovery. I don't assume that anyone here shares the same sorts of problems I did with regards to drugs, but I do know that helping someone teaches some valuable lessons: the lessons of gratitude and the value of making the world a better place, of the value of good deeds. I certainly feel better getting out and at least trying to contribute positively to someone's life, instead of stewing in my own juices. My head is not a safe place for me to be--reliving past failures and resentments, beating myself up for the times I've dropped the ball, rarely accolading myself for the times I carried it. In order to be happy, I have to be out in the world, active, and mindful of the gift that is life.

In recent weeks, my gratitude has been... rejuvenated. I had started to take life, in all its beauty and grace, for granted--which, for a person like me, is the start of a slippery slope ultimately leading to oblivion.

It's good to be back in humility, gratitude, acceptance, and serenity.

What a stressful week this has been.

JL Buchanan has been at my throat all week. They are our sales reps, of questionable competence. It has been very irritating to try to meet their arbitrary deadline that was only nebulous until last week. Especially when our factory sent some needed product samples via an unreliable courier when masked to use FedEx International priority. So the samples of course are lost in space, and I had to construct some by hand--that was a bitch--and laminate the box art to them. Then, I get a call fromm the buyer this morning complaining about the color correction.

This hasn't been one of my better weeks, although I was treated to two nights of Jerry Joseph and the Jackmormons and am looking forward to Rollin' in the Hay tonight.

Anyway, I can't wait to put this one in the books. I'm counting the hours.

Of course, I have a lot of work and cleaning to do over the weekend, so I can't get too excited.

It will be nice to sleep in an extra hour Saturday--this might be the week's highlight.

Journal,

This week has gone by fast. Well, that's not entirely accurate. It was very hot and my A/C was out from last Friday to about Wednesday. Work went by quickly each day (except Monday dragged for some reason), but then time slowed down as soon as I reached the sweltering heat of my house.

I tried to repair and diagnose the A/C and figured out the fan wasn't getting power but that the compressor, coil, and thermostat was fine. So I called an A/C repair service and scheduled an appointment, but they seemed expensive. So a coworker suggested a private individual, and I called him and set up an appointment--but he couldn't come until Tuesday. So I wind up almost melting in my house from the heat waiting on him, and he stands me up. Now I was supposed to go meet a client that night--and instead had to push that back and suffer in my house. I could have hung out at my girlfriend's had I not needed to wait on this character.

Well, finally on Wednesday I was able to meet another A/C repair company, and they fixed it (blown capacitor) and refilled my freon. All told, about $151, not bad at all! Of course, I wound up not being able to enjoy this A/C being back because I stayed at my girlfriend's house that night, but gosh it was nice to have it back--the Mississippi heat is relentless, and the humidity is positively swamplike.

Well, today is Friday, and I look forward to a thunderstormy weekend. But a weekend!!!