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Reading 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.

Ewige Blumenkraft!

Without claiming to suffer in any way:
This is very encouraging. Thanks.

'Repent, Harlequin!' said the Ticktockman. 'Get stuffed!' the Harlequin replied, sneering.

Thank you for your post. You make me believe in what you say with my heart. now i need to convince my head to listen.

-Mel

Look at me! I'm a prostitute robot from the future!

This post was deleted by request of the author.

"you're mighty brave in cyber-space, flame boy!"

so someone tell me why all this that is so right feels so fucking wrong right now.

I would guess that all isn't right. It may be that you need medication. It may be that people around you are a destructive influence. It may be that you are focusing on your problems rather than their solutions. Perhaps you even enjoy misery. You might do well to find a support group while you are figuring things out. It sounds like you are "white knuckling" it: hanging on to sobriety by a thread. I'd wager your problems go deeper than drug use: with addicts, they always do. I don't know you, so I have no idea.

What I do know is that something must be keeping you sober. Nobody goes through that painful transformation just for the hell of it. It's impossible to do so, especially on H and crack. I also don't believe you can stay sober for someone else--I think you do it for yourself, whether you realize this or not. If not, I assure you you will relapse, and it won't be pretty. I spent many months in rehab and many more in the sober community, and not once did I meet a junkie or crackhead or drunk that had gotten and stayed sober for anyone but themselves. Sure, maybe their family committed them, and they were unwilling at first. But everyone who put together more than a few months of sobriety ultimately stayed sober for their own sake. After all, we are selfish beings at heart, and our lives are ours to live. And no, I won't buy that you are somehow different, because also in that span of time, I never met an addict whose illness was any different than anyone else's. This isn't to say we aren't each unique people, but the illness of addiction is the same in all who are afflicted by it. The voices that drive addiction and depression are the same ones likely tormenting you now "If you had my problems, you'd bang too" "I'm worthless... who cares what happens to me?" "I'm afraid to live, and afraid to die." "I don't deserve or want to live, not do I deserve happiness." "I'm an idiot." "Why did I do that?" All of which inevitably leads to "Why not?" and "Fuck it." The two most dangerous phrases we can think.

You must have some sort of belief that you can improve your life, or you would be in the crackhouse instead of school. It's that simple.

We all want to be happy. We all deserve happiness and were meant to live in it. We place our own obstacles in the way. As individuals, as a civilization. If your life was so much better being a junkie, than why are you sober? Could it be because you are learning that instant gratification is a lie? That you think that at the end of all this suffering is a better life? I see an inkling of faith there, or perhaps enough desperation to try to change your life. Without support and help, this hope will wither and die. Sometimes change is too monumental a task for us to do it alone.

To embrace the struggle that is life, with eyes open, suffering, succeeding, climbing, falling, and climbing again--that is to live. Accepting the truth, warts and all, isn't a fun enterprise--but it's better than the alternative.

Life is what we make of it, and it can be grueling work to make our lives what we want them to be: but we are solely responsible for it, and we can either struggle fruitlessly against this truth, or we can accept it and do something about it. I choose not to waste my energy fighting the unchangeable, and to instead focus on the things I want to and can change. What is the other option: to spend all your energy on regret, resentment, self -loathing and -pity? We can struggle against life, or we can struggle against life's obstacles. The latter provides reward, the former is a downward spiral. Life occurs in cycles: we can swirl down the drain, a vicous cycle, or we can struggle and build on our successes. It is much harder to do the latter, until you start reaping the rewards of living.

I have been blessed in that my perspective has changed from that of the cockroach looking up at the sole of a shoe to that of the mountaineer emerging from the foothils and onto the slopes of Mt. Everest, surrounded by beauty and danger, with incredible challenges ahead: challenges that are to be relished and conquered rather than hidden from and ignored. The fact that I am even capable of getting up in the morning and having a productive, rewarding, and full day is such a daily triumph that I find my gratitude and energy renewed each morning. I have, and continue to, transitioned from surviving to living. It was purely a matter of luck to have gotten into just the right position to give this thing called life a shot. And it has been through hard work that I have learned a few of life's lessons. If I can do that, anyone can. After all, change for the better is never easy. But what worthwhile is?

Ewige Blumenkraft!