bottom's up
2-26-03
Twenty years ago today was the start of my bottom.
Until that time, my using, though excessive, was somewhat acceptable.
I could always keep a job, or if I lost one, could always get another.
And though I was a blackout drunk, I was a friendly one . . .
In other words, I hadn’t burned all my bridges yet. (Remember, You’re Eligible Too)
In the blink of an eye, a drunk driver changed my life — forever.
(Four-wheel drive Toyota at 75 mph. always beats a pedestrian.)
After spending three months in hospital and receiving a small settlement
I began an eleven year run . . . I ran from my mangled leg, God, my family,
my friends, my-self for as long as I possibly could until I reached the end of the road.
You’ve been there too, haven’t you? No dope, no hope, nowhere left to go
backed into such a tight corner that escape isn’t possible anymore?
I thank God for that corner, for it wasn’t until I reached that place
of helpless desperation that I achieved the ability to surrender
and to admit that I was powerless.
Through that admission I gained such strength, for it was then
God introduced me to you.
You, who showed me that I was not alone, that I wasn’t some freak
or demon-filled waste of time. You shared yourselves with me, letting me know
I wasn’t the only one who’d acted out on the insanity of this disease,
and let the obsession and compulsion rule my life,
doing things so horrific or debasing they can only be imagined in nightmares.
You showered me with love, and shared with me your hope, inspiring me to grow,
to allow this program to work in my life. You gave me life again.
So, twenty years ago was the start of my bottom, but it was also the beginning of my ascent.
For had I not been knocked so low, I may never have been able to fly so high,
and for that I’m truly grateful.
Much love, light and hope.
Johnh94

Shot of Lonely, (Partial Drama Poem)
Every night she’d take a drink
invite another frightening man into her room
wondering the next morning
how she’d make it through the gloom
another day of loneliness
another shot of hell
then the drink of unholy water
and she’d be out to sell it once again
trying to fill a god-shaped hole
with chemicals, lust and men.

he stood in the dripping doorway
looking out with anger at the world
his memories full of young friends
falling as battle flags unfurled
another day of loneliness
another shot of hell
brown bag of unholy water
brought back the pounding shells, once again
leaving him without a god,
without a hope or friend.

It was cold that night in the projects
they fell into each other’s lives
two souls on the brink of exhaustion
tired of reliving those old lies
just a moment’s comfort wanted
some solace from the pain
gave both some strength, some hope, some peace
so they could face life once again.

Moments grew to hours — days
they stayed in their embrace
drawing from the twisted love
they found there in that place
tumbling fumblingly through sighs and moans
and finally, through tears
talking about nothing first, then, everything at last
they poured out their loss and fears

She told him of the little girl
full of hopes and dreams
then whispered of the hulking man
she’d fought with silent screams
this mass of inhumanity
had ravaged her young soul
taken from her, her precious dreams
then pushed her out into the cold

He gently brushed her tear stained cheek
as she told him of her life
how the bruised and frightened, innocent child
became a beaten and battered wife
his fingers found her battle scars
traced them on her back and arms
he rocked her softly, like a child
tried to keep her safe and warm

so, in the telling of her too familiar tale
she drew comfort and some peace
and in the cradle of his gentle arms
her soul found some release

Love Unconditionally
Listen with compassion
Look with empathy
Love unconditionally
these are my goals today.
Relationships are still hard for me today. My disease had me so isolated, that the only real relationship I had before I got clean was with it. It’s voice was so loud, that I found it almost impossible to hear anyone else, especially those loved ones or friends telling me that I needed help. I had been arrogant and paranoid for so long that I pounced on every conversation, either covering my helplessness with boasts or blurting out excuses for my actions. My self-centered hurt had grown so much that I couldn’t see the pain of anyone else but me, and I had lost entirely the ability to love. Now, clean, I am replacing that arrogance and self-righteousness with humility and compassion. I’m realizing I don’t have to have all the answers today, and that my way may not be the best solution. Still, I catch myself wanting to act out on those old, familiar behaviors. When someone is sharing in a meeting, my mind wants to either judge them, or race full-blown with what I want to share. In conversations, I still feel the need to make my point, get my way, and it takes prayer and effort to be unselfish and allow others their space. Unselfishness can turn battle grounds in common grounds. Think about a world where everyone is unselfish, considering the needs of others above their own. Paraphrasing “Recovery and Relapse,” it defines Narcotics Anonymous as a group of men and women who care about desperate, dying addicts, and who, over time, can teach them a new way to live. That is what the fellowship is giving me, not only in the rooms, but in all aspects of my life today — the ability to care about others and the desire to make their lives better. What a gift we’ve been given! Today, I will cherish the gifts the fellowship has given me, relationships with others being only one. I said that relationships are still hard for me today. Really, they’re such a blessing and opportunity to experience love and growth that they still sometimes make me uncomfortable — me who thought I was unlovable and unteachable. Thank you, N. A. for teaching me a new way to live! Much love, growth, and joy, johnh94.

For Jerry
Profoundly aware of the pain in your eyes
yet, denying there’s anything wrong
why do I cling to these destructive lies
why can’t I simply move on
When I look at you,
I see the answer to all of my prayers
but lately I can’t seem to pray
all that’s left is this glaring awareness
of loss
this darkness that once was day
and that hole is comfortable here in my heart
it had been there for years before you
I don’t remember when this downfall started
or why I ignored all I knew
I used to remember that I was a part of
and now I just feel so alone
How did this emptiness fill up my heart
pushing out all the love I had known

Despair Prayer
Help me to surrender
these feelings of despair
show me my place in your heart
show me that you care
allow your love to flow through me
wash my tears away
help me to remember
that I’m yours today
God, I get so caught up in the petty problems in my life! I mean, I’ve been delivered from a self-imposed hell of active addiction, have wonderful relationships in my life, even have a sense of purpose, and all I can worry about are these feelings of loneliness and despair. I guess I lived there for so long that I slide back into their comfortability, but I don’t want to be here!

This morning I woke up, thinking of suicide and despair, feeling lonely and alone, isolated from the love that I know is all around me. I feel like I have no purpose in life— that I’m worthless— a train on an empty piece of track, going nowhere. I know I have things to offer, but don’t feel like I have the energy to give them. I keep doing the same things, going through the motions of life, but always caught in the rut of feeling alienated from my family, my friends, my God. Even reading the meditation, or praying, I feel like there’s some part of me I’m not surrendering — I still cling to that feeling of worthlessness. I hide in my room, stuck in front of the t.v., overeating or masturbating, trying to fill the hole I know only God can fill. If these things haven’t worked for all of my life, why do I continue to use them? God, I surrender myself to you fully today — giving you all of me, good and bad. I ask you to change my heart, my mind, so that I live in the solution instead of spiraling continually into the pit of despair. Let your spirit flow through me, and enfold me, overflow from me so that everyone I come in contact with is witness to the miracle that is You. I love you God, and thank you for all your blessings. Help me to see those blessings more clearly today. And when I come to those points where I want to hide from your love, from the solution, remind me of the feeling of loss I have when I give in to those urges. Help me play the tape through, and give me the strength to rely instead upon your loving presence. Help me to get outside of myself today. Thank you God. john. Even when I do most of the right things, if I’m allowing myself to still cling to some things that I know are detrimental to my recovery, I sabotage my serenity for the day. For being the addict that I am, I’ll concentrate on the one wrong thing I did, instead of focusing on the ten right things I’ve done.

for Hilda Geers, and all who have experienced loss
Now god has called me to heaven
and all my troubles have ceased
the pain and sickness I knew on the earth
are but fading memories
Now I can skip and frolic
like I did as a little girl
now I can be with each one of you
wherever you are in the world
look to the sunrise, I’ll watch it with you
gaze at the stars and I’m there
feel the breeze in the afternoon
that’s me gently brushing your hair
ask for me in silence
and you’ll feel me by your side
calming your fears and drying your tears
there’s nowhere you can hide
I’m the unexpected giggle
the tug pulling at your heart’s strings
the tear in your eye, I am your sigh
part of me is in everything

Darkness
I need to talk about the darkness surrounding me--not the comfortable closeness felt when secure in oneself--in life--but this interminable stifling feeling of imminent suffocation. My god, I awaken each morning, determined that this will be the day i take charge, begin to heal--and then the waves crash down around me and i’m caught in the whirlpool again. Have you ever body surfed--and gotten caught up beneath the breaking of a large and powerful wave? That’s how I feel at times, tossed and tumbled, carried in three or four different directions at the same time--totally powerless, and aware of my impotency--then there’s the stillness after--still below the surface, unable to gain my senses--I can feel my self--my soul, ebbing back out to sea, gladdened guiltily by the respite--only to be overtaken once more, having the wind knocked out of me--drowning, drowning, drowning---
Other times I feel like I’m hiding in my own apartment--hiding from myself-from others-from sanity--the house is dirty--un-vacuumed and uninviting--I have several small areas cleared for my use--the table, the couch, the desk, the bed--these places I flit to-and-from like some anxious wren, unable to find a comfortable perch. The rest of the apartment is jumbled piles of mismatched items--newspapers and books, discarded clothes and scraps of paper or trash. I make tentative stabs at reaching out--telling one friend or another that I’m struggling--usually trying to present a formidable underbelly at the same time--showing that it can’t get to me---but that is only window dressing, and not the real me at all--not the weak and scared and lonely me that longs only for closeness, but when anyone tries to draw near, runs away, back to this uncomfortable nest. My life has become that, even when I’m not surrounded by the shadows--I find myself flitting, here and there, doing good, for others, but not myself--staying constantly on the move--helping others find their way, while steadily losing mine.
I stand, head upon the cool enamel of the door jamb, feeling it against my fevered and pulsing brow--trying to allow the pain to seep into the cool wood, but it won’t flow, and as soon as I pull my head away I can feel the throbbing growing again. There are so many fears here--could this be some great tumor, growing and gnawing away at my life? Perhaps a chemical imbalance that is throwing my system into a quandary--or worse, that there is nothing wrong at all--that would be devastating, for the enemy seen is much easier to cope with than the one unknown--the inner destruction of senses by self. I pray once more for serenity, strength and wisdom, and know that the answer is out there, or rather, in here.

“Challenging” Times ©
It doesn’t matter what catastrophes beset me,
for I am in the protective embrace of God.
Every moment of every day, God’s love and power are with me,
leading me, guarding me, helping me grow.
These are challenging times though, and its hard
to keep my focus on that thought.
There are forces and powers threatening,
not just my small circle of influence, but our entire world.
Oppression and starvation, subversion and war
are prevalent in places both far and near, with threats
of growing violence ringing in our ears.
Poverty of the masses dominates in countries
rich with resources, those resources being hoarded
by a few, greedy individuals.
Weapons are being forged, too horrible to perceive—
gasses and bombs, biological agents that can only be construed
as tools of mutilation and destruction.
Plots and strategies are continuously ongoing
on all sides of this many leveled fence.
Governments plan onslaughts with no thought of us caught in the cross-fire.
Children are being taught hatred and separatism, hearts poisoned
from birth with prejudice for other races, religions, sexes, and nations.
There has to be a better way. A path that we can all walk on safely.
Our steps need to be cautious, but they must be taken,
our voices must be heard.
The challenge is before us. If each of us, as individuals,
realize the preciousness of every human life, and spread
that awareness to all those around us, then,
perhaps change can take place.
May we seek God’s wisdom in all of our actions,
His protection in all of our plans, and may His mercy
lead us all into a brighter and more loving tomorrow.

May you be blessed as you go through this day.
Love and light, johnh94 09-18-02

Father's Day Doldrums
I woke up at six, unable to keep the awareness of my loneliness asleep any longer.
Today is Fathers’ Day, and I’m one of the lucky ones who’s father is still alive,
though I barely know him.
What is worse, to have a dad and lose him to a grave, or watch him become a slave
to a bottle, or job, or woman, or anything?
my father seems contented now; new life, third wife, right with God and community.
I want him to be right with me.
There’s nothing he could really do though, except perhaps call.
But phone lines run two ways, and I haven’t made the effort either.
Old habits, still waters, same old line.
its really just easier to sit in self pity wishing I was not so alone.
My daughter sent an email a couple of days ago, nowhere near the comfort
of her voice. i’d love to talk to her, but their line is dead and ex’s new boyfriend
got my hug this morning.
So, I’ll go to church, think about our Father who gave the biggest sacrifice so that we might live.
people there will hug me, wish me well, maybe I’ll even be invited out, I won’t go though.
Easier to sit in self pity, wishing I wasn’t so alone.

The Busload in My Brain
You know how people say they have a committee in their head?
With most its just a couple of voices, arguing periodically for control.
With me, I've got a busload of defects, driving clown-style,
willy-nilly down the road of life! All of them; pride, impatience,
arrogance, apathy, prejudice, deceit, fear, self-centeredness,
self-righteousness, self-loathing, possessiveness, close-mindedness,
hatred, control, egotism, rage, lust, paranoia and insecurity,
just to name a few, each of them constantly clamoring
to be in the driver's seat! It’s a constant struggle, full of chaos,
with me screaming every now and then, "I'll turn this bus right around!"
In a seat by himself sits addiction. And while all of the others scream
and carry on, addiction sits quietly, patiently, because he knows
that as soon as any of these others wins a temporary victory,
he'll be the one really driving.