Writing

Ever since I was a child I loved to read. I devoured books at a very young age and was quickly reading above my grade level. I remember living in Panama City, Florida and having writing prompts where we could write whatever fiction or reality we wanted. I always chose fiction. I could spread my wings and become something completely new. I remember when they'd test us, I'd make really high marks in my stories. I can't remember exactly when it changed but the prompts started being on more specific things, the tone of a passage you had read, less creativity. I hated it. I stopped writing as much but I still read often.

I remember watching the movie Harriet the Spy and falling in love with her. I got my black and white composition notebook and wrote down everything about everyone. When I was happy or mad, details of what was happening around me no matter how dull they may seem, maybe they'd be important later. During this time we were preparing to move to Wichita Falls, Tx. It would be the first of many big moves I could remember. Already in my life, we had moved twice but I was too young for it too make a huge difference in my life. Here I had friends. I was angry and I wrote it down. I wrote ugly things about my parents and one day at a party at one of our family friend's house from the church I left my notebook out and some nosey woman picked it up and read it. Ignoring all the other wonderful things I had written, or so I thought, she targeted the negative and told my mother. I obviously had not gotten the moral of the story in Harriet the Spy where she had lost all of her friends because of the things she wrote without regard to their feelings of what they read.

I don't remember when I stopped reading all the time but I know I kept a journal for years to come, up until the past couple of years actually, minus sporadic entries here and there. I guess Facebook became more of an outlet for that which is gross to think about. Around that time I was also more into my phone, most of my high school, even though I had a phone it wasn't as addictive as it is today. I started only reading things on my phone, for the most part, reading maybe a book or two a year and writing more nonfiction, thinking I could become a journalist. That's the kind of story I should tell. I really wanted to be nonbias though, give people information and let them come up with what they thought about it. I've written so many articles as a ghostwriter for other people but have never had any published under my name. I have done videos though and worked with channels like The Notice and Youvolution to put out content.

I still want to put out content. I still want to create fictional stories but I also want to write the truth as well, informative pieces. I want to be convincing. I'm worried about how divisive our country is. I'm worried about not being able to communicate effectively the severity of situations because I'm not able to retain the information I'm taking in. I'm going to start working on pieces like that, about the environment and climate change, but also about solutions and agorism. I also want to tell my story and what has happened to me to shape the person I am. I also want to keep going out and recording actions and protests and speeches and life.

I'm still figuring things out but this morning one of my favorite authors, Octavia Butler, nudged me in a direction I've been going in for a while and made it feel more tangible. I hate to bring up alcohol but it has really affected my mind. I hasn't helped me procrastinate less. It's become a crutch in social situations and when talking to people. I'm happy to be without it and happy to see where my brain will grow from being away from it.

I am a writer...and so many other things.

I am not my addiction.

I struggle with substances. My parents didn't drink. Science says I have a gene that makes me predisposed to liking different drugs.

I use to just be a pot head. That was easy. No harm there but in the land of the free and home of the brave it was a crime that led to incarceration which led to probation which led to intoxication because you can't drug test for booze unless you've been drinking the day before. 17 years old and on probation for a drug that is legal in how many states now? A drug that has had men and women, vast majority black and brown, behind bars.

I struggle with substances. I loved Lucy. She gave the world a beautiful filter and made me feel like I was from another planet. She connected me to a beautiful boy who loved her too much and got sick and left this world to be in the kaleidoscope sky forever. She made me believe that I could save this planet, the one that we are killing with our consumerism and extraction, that I was here for a purpose. Ken Kesey saw the beauty in her, he wanted to share her with the world instead of only keeping it for the "elite", not really elite though, they're fucking predators.

I struggle with substances. I've been ripped from my home more times than a kid should ever be. Back before cell phones and facebook, so when you lost touch you lost touch. I still made good grades but I was angry. I'd huff stupid shit to get a temporary high.

I struggle with substances. Alcohol has turned me into a monster that has destroyed any loving relationship with a partner I have EVER had. Nobody wants to love a monster. It's too hard. It's destructive, they need to protect themselves. I don't blame them. We all need to protect ourselves.

I struggle with substances. Riding in a car on the way to a protest in Chicago and getting a phone call from a good friend of mine asking if I remembered what had happened the night before. I didn't. He proceeded to tell me how he had to pull our friend off me while I was passed out on the bed from Ambien because he was touching me. The "friend" went into the living room and sexually assaulted our friend on the couch that night too.

I struggle but I am not my addiction.

I am a kind person who feels for people. Our world isn't balanced and so many of us are hurting and have been hurt and we need to fix ourselves but it's hard to find the healthcare to do it and it's hard to communicate with others because we don't know how to talk to each other because the world wants us divided. They want us divided.

Some of you reading this may think I share too much, I think I've said it before in one of these posts but it's how I'm healing. Sharing my story and what's happened to me and who I am is an outlet for me. If you don't like it, don't click it. It isn't met for you. I write about this because I know even though I feel so fucking lonely and am trying to use the word alone and that's okay, that there are others out there just like me.

You are not alone.
You can get better.
You are strong.
You are not your addiction.

I believe in you.

Small Wins

I've been having a hard time adjusting to being in New Jersey and it's literally been 5 days and I need to stop putting so much pressure on things. It's time. All the time I keep thinking about having left until I can go back home. The time I have to myself to think of all the things I could have done differently. Time to get lost in thoughts that serve no positive purpose.

I wrote a tear-filled post yesterday and intended to post it today but instead, am going to talk about the wins I have. The things that are good and will keep me going through this because I'm luckier than most and can't forget that.

I get to see my little brother who I haven't seen in years this week, along with a bunch of other family in Tennessee. I have a good friend and roommate back home who knows how much this is hurting me and is doing their best to stay connected to me in one of the hardest ways in the world for them, fucking text. I live within 2 miles of a library that so far has had every book I've wanted ALREADY THERE. I just applied at a spot by my house cooking, where I can ride to and go in for my interview and they were very excited to have me come in and apply. I can kayak whenever I want. I have a smart recovery group I can go to. I have fucking goals, achievable goals to get back home and healthy. Then the biggest one is my parents. The ones who have opened up their home and let me come and work on myself without judgment but without enabling me, who have gone above and beyond to make sure I'm okay. Who love me and have seen me at my worst. Both sets of parents have cared for and loved me and I'm grateful.

I still cry all the time. I'm getting better at hiding it or getting lost in a book, starting my third one today since I got here, gotta love Octavia Butler.

Alone

I've never experienced this before in my life. Not loneliness or being alone, like basically everyone I have experienced that on more occasions than I'd like to think about. I've never had a community tell me I need to leave because they need space away from me. Later, I'll go into details of all of that but this is about understanding that and coping with that.

I've been working in my Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills workbook which I was told would help those who have borderline personality disorder, as well as others who have just struggle with controlling their emotions. That is a big one for me, my main control of emotions in the past has been substance abuse which doesn't control anything, it makes things worse for myself and everyone else around me.

A recent tool I picked up was called REST which is an acronym meaning Relax, Evaluate, Set an intention, Take action. In relaxing you're "doing your best to remind yourself that you have an opportunity to behave differently."p9 I've put this into practice for things that have happened in the past and how it could have worked differently.

The other main one is radical acceptance which in this move has literally only been 4 days now but has been tearing my heart apart, is changing my attitude and being able to better tolerate distressing situations, "being overly judgemental of a situation or overly critical of yourself or others often leads to more pain, missed details and paralysis."p14 Which is true.

This leads to me to the two sessions I did with a kind friend in Austin who gifted me two EFT sessions which stands for emotional freedom technique. She told me in that room it wasn't about others, it was about me and how I am internally and how I can be better and the person I want to be. Our first session had tapping on meridian points on the forehead, chest, side rib area, and hand. She also did what she called shadow work which was going through my mind essentially guided by her but using metaphors which were incredibly helpful.

We did another exercise where we talked about this negative thing inside of me and what it looked like and for me that was easy. If any of you are close to me you've heard me bring up Sarai, especially in terms of drinking. But it was clear to me that she was one negative aspect of my life. In the session, through questions, I realized that she hadn't always been with me and for some reason, I had never thought of that before. I honestly had started to consider her an alter of sorts, an alter ego, and it was terrifying. Through tapping and positive affirmations and other words spoken out loud, I realized she came into my life when I really needed her.

TW: Abuse

When I was close to 19 years old I was dating a man named JoAnthony. At first, he was very sweet and loving but that relationship quickly turned to an abusive one. I was terrified when I heard loud cars because he had a very loud car. He would punch me and kick me if he got upset. Eventually, the catalyst was me eating a few mushrooms one day and at first, having an amazing trip, he wasn't around or anything, then my roommate came home and she was upset that there weren't any more mushrooms which led me into a bad trip. I felt really sick, I tried to take a shower. I tried to sleep but nothing would help. Eventually, my phone starts ringing and I see it's Jo. I don't answer but he keeps calling over and over and over. I was terrified. I knew if he found out I'd eaten mushrooms he would hurt me so I got in my car and started driving away from my house. Nobody knew I had left.

As I'm driving and pull out of my neighborhood I see a car pull up super fast behind mine and I think, "I'm  getting pulled over by the cops!" But no sirens come on, nothing. Quickly I realize it's Jo. He is so close he is almost hitting my car with his. I turn down a well-lit road that had a bunch of shops and should have pulled in there but I wasn't thinking clearly. I was still tripping and I couldn't comprehend what was happening. I drive into a side neighborhood and he gets next to me with his car and starts nudging my car with his. Pushing my car. I slam on my breaks and scream, "Okay! I'll park. Just stop." I pull into a side street and frantically grab for my phone, he gets out of his car and my window was cracked a tiny bit and he lunged his arm inside pulling my hair to the window and unlocking the door. He pulls me out of the car by my hair and slams my face into the asphalt. He then starts kicking me over and over and over and I just start screaming hoping someone will come outside. He grabs my hat and phone throws it into a gutter, he grabs my car keys and grabs me by my hair again and drags me into his car.

 He starts driving into the middle of nowhere, blood is dripping down my face and it's hard to see, I start to plead with him saying I can't see, please pull over, I won't tell anyone. Please. We lived in a small town at the time so driving into the middle of nowhere didn't take to long. I started to think I was going to have to crash the car. I was about to pull the steering wheel really hard to roll the car when he slammed on his breaks and told me to get out. I did and he took off and I took off running in the other direction as fast as I could thinking he was going to come back and hit me with his car.

I walked for hours until I saw lights of cars passing a somewhat busy road up ahead. I was too scared to knock on a neighbors door because the houses were so far apart and they all had no trespassing signs and it was 3 or 4 in the morning, I was tripping mushrooms and profusely bleeding from my head. I got to the main street and started trying to wave cars down and eventually an older Mexican man stopped and instead of taking me to the police station or to the hospital, he took me home.

After that night I started drinking heavily, Sarai showed up and when she was around I didn't give a shit about anyone. I had to get my keys from Jo and Sarai was with me. Every other man I was with after Jo for a long while, Sarai was with me.

She was with me when Chris got sick and I spent a month in the hospital praying he wouldn't die. But I'll talk about Chris later.

She served her purpose but I don't need her anymore and EFT made me realize that and I'm grateful.

I love Roots. I know I need time away to be healthy and get a better understanding of my purpose. But I know I'm a good fit for that place. I know because I helped build it. I helped make it what it is and those people have become my family. I can't dwell on my past. I can make things right. I can prove what I need to prove and come back better than before. Our past shapes us but our present is what matters the most. What we do now and the choices we make now are important. I'm trying to switch my mindset of being lonely to just being alone and being alone is okay. You can grow being alone.