My original idea for this blog had always been to try and capture "a day in the life" of a person (namely ME) who is in recovery from addiction/alcoholism. I like many people recovering from addiction have used the One day at a Time approach breaking my life up into what i consider reasonable segments that weren't too overwhelming when I considered abstinence from booze and drugs. The basic rational being you could stay away from drinking or drugging for 24 hours if you had the proper physical, emotional, psychological and spiritual help and mind-set. It seemed to me that even I could stop for one darn day. And so I have going on almost 7 years now. But as one might suspect...there was way more to this story then just not drinking. During the last 4 plus years of blogging I have uncovered many layers of memories, feelings and experiences that I had forgotten, chosen to ignore or just plain pushed out of my memory by the horror and shock of those experiences. And the real kicker...I continued to uncover more and more detail about being raped as a boy by 3 grown men and how that had completely changed the kind of person that I was. Certainly I was always aware that this had happened to me but I had always minimized the effect it had on me. As a result I have definitely come to the conclusion that Shell Shock Serenade is the story of LIFE...One Person's life to be sure bu "a life none the less. I would still continue to peel back the layers of the onion to expose the things that were hurting me or making it difficult to grow. And that will continue to be my purpose here for as long as I can imagine.
Once again I am posting but I have no real idea of what I'm trying to accomplish by writing this other then to continue the daily record of my life in recovery captured in this blog. You know...after 3 years of documenting the life of a person in recovery I wonder if it isn't time to just modify that goal or 'Mission Statement" to documenting "A Life". And that would be - A Life of a fellow who is a recovering addict/alcoholic, a rape and violent sexual assault survivor. So I think that is what I am going to try and do. See ya next time....
We are heading toward what I would call a really confused ..yea even warped form of class warfare here in the United States. Our working culture...much of it being derived from our early immigrants looking for the "American Dream" is dying on the vine...IF it hasn't already.
Above you are looking at the face of a worker with good job (non-college degree required variety). This person makes a good hourly wage, has more overtime then she can work over 60 hours/week, great health benefits through Blue Cross/Blue Shield, paid vacation/sick time/holidays and floating holidays. She has a 401K and other investment options.
Why am I explaining all this today? Because the company she works for is desperately trying to hire people here in Coldwater and nobody can pass the 90 day trial period. What is this most difficult of test requirements you ask? They EXPECT YOU TO SHOW UP FOR WORK AND NOT CALL IN SICK MORE THEN 3 times IN 90 days! Yea you read that correctly...3 times in 90 days..and if you do call a 4th time they extend the probation 60 more days and give you another call in! And nobody can make it.
The person pictured above is K-Sue and she works in a Forge/Metal Stamping plant. In the 5 months she has been there only 2 people (one being Kim) out 15 have made it and got hired in to a permanent position.
The class warfare I wrote about earlier is between those who approach work the way Americans traditionally have and those who feel a sense of entitlement to whatever they feel they need or should have. "Work for something....WHY?" Just give it to me like my parents did...
I imagine you will see some follow up posts to this one in the near future. My purpose today was to simply expose the issue. It is a huge problem...People will tell you that you cannot find work in Coldwater, MI. That the only jobs available are of the part-time fast food variety...it's a LIE. This company cannot BEG hard enough for workers...people just don't want to work.
Off course this is just my opinion but it still makes me sick that people feel this way about work. After nearly 25 years with the last firm I worked for, I just don't get this attitude of entitlement. K-Sue takes her appearance in this picture, covered with metal dust/soot (She looks like she came out of a coal mine) as a matter of great pride and I do too...it's one of my favorite pictures of her.
Early this morning...like most mornings I was writing a post for the blog. And as usual lately....It was not going very well because I had not slept at all the night before and the words were a blur...one big, alphabet MESS...a virtual home-made soup of loose ideas, runaway thoughts and visions of an apocalyptic future or was that my past?! I basically posted the darn thing in the half-sleep that is my normal state of being these days and didn't think anything else about it. This too is RARE and negligent of me to just let something go out into big, bad world without being proof read or even double checked. Unfortunately in this exhausted state that is more the norm then the exception. It turns out this little throw-away blurb from this morning was one of the most profound statements that I have ever made (and I have now made quite a few) about the aftermath of being raped. I was completely stunned by what I was reading in front of me. This little ditty on Survivors hit may square between the eyes: "And I did "simply survive"...much like a cockroach after some future nuclear war. Let us not EVER mistake Surviving for living..." I simply can't believe that this came from the jumbled, sleep deprived mind and body that I have been living with these past several months. It just BLOWS my mind...
A strange day...in what has turned out to be a strange Winter in a strange year....in yea, what has probably been a STRANGE freaking life for me. Nothing seems to fit together in a typical sense...actually it NEVER fit together in any sense...detachment was not only the name of the game...it was survival for those like me...it is that simple, victory in this type of life simply means you survive. And I did "simply survive"....much like a cockroach after some future nuclear war. Let us not EVER mistake Surviving for LIVING... Hence the earth shattering gap faced by those folks who SURVIVE rape. That's right...our society often refers to them as "survivors" and yes, that is no doubt part of who and what we are. But to actually recover from rape we must do...we must BE more then a mere survivor.We must learn to LIVE again...and that is the daily challenge, each and every day for me since this happened nearly 40 years ago.
Today they are playing the NFL Conference Championship Games. The San Francisco already have already beaten the Atlanta Falcons to win the National Football Conference. The Baltimore Ravens are playing the New England Patriots as I write and they have a 8 point lead with 15 minutes left in the game. I honestly do not have too much to say or write about today because I mostly slept...yea, you read that correctly I was SLEEPING today. That is probably why after being awake (a relative state of mind, I'll add) for a couple of hours, a pizza for dinner and very chores outside in frigid temps I still feel like a total freaking zombie. Perhaps after a few more days like this one I can get back to normal, whatever that might be at this point in my life!
I can't begin to describe how grateful I am for my friends. I say that kind of thing a lot but only because it is the absolute truth. I did not know how meaningful friendships could really be. Last night I was reeling a bit from aftermath of all the adoption stuff I had been thinking on and feeling. I really felt kind of funny and wanted to hang out a bit. I called a friend to see if a regular Thursday get together had started up again. It had not but he was perceptive enough to figure out I was feeling somewhat down in the dumps so he asked about walking over with Smokey...his dog. It made all the difference in the world for me. They were here for an hour or so but man did it set me on track.
Oh yea, here it starts all over again...I release some hidden or long forgotten nugget of info about myself and it seems the whole world needs to know about it right freaking NOW in exquisite detail...as if I am saving Mankind by doing this. Now please don't get me wrong...it is not I that feel this way because I don't...but it does adequately describe the total sense of urgency I feel when this strange sensation comes over me and the words and feelings just pour out of me as if quenching a raging GRASS-FIRE within.
That is accurately descriptive of the extreme sense of urgency I feel right NOW to talk about my thoughts and feelings toward my real father. And this is after being mostly silent about HIM for the last 49 years. Why now?! I have no freaking idea why now but I have experienced this process enough in my life now that I TRUST enough to do what it suggests right away.
I am not sure why I all of a sudden have these very different opinions and feelings toward this monster of a man that just a few days ago I would have assured you that I HATED.
Then yesterday...out of the BLUE it occurs to me that I know NOTHING about the TRUTH. Perhaps my father wanted to keep me and mother was against it or her family was.
I am finding this whole adoption thing very difficult to deal with because I never had a desire to look for my parents before....now suddenly I am thinking of trying to locate my birth mother because she will have some of the answers I am looking for about my Dad.
Did he drink? Did they love one another....what did they really think bout having a kid. I can tell this is going to emotionally very hard for me but what else am I going to be doing this Winter, eh?!
So my Dear, fortunate readers...come along with me as we break down yet ANOTHER door to the inside of what makes me....ME. Photos:Kathy Tomson
Ah yes...this is one of those nights when old thormoo is feeling nostalgic and feels like sharing parts of himself that are un-explainable with simple words. They require......MORE.
One of the most significant parts of my existence is the very simple yet honest fact that I was given up for adoption immediately after I was born. To tell you the truth, my dear reader friend out there ...I do not think that after tens of thousands of words that I have written on Shell Shock Serenade that I have ever even mentioned this little "Fun-Fact" before. That's because it is a non-factor for me....AND IT ALWAYS KINDA HAS BEEN. The only parents I have ever known are the Mum & Dad that brought me home 2 days before Christmas, 1962...2 full months after I was born because I came into the world with pneumonia.
Seriously....as far back as I remember I have known that I was adopted. My parents thought it critical that I knew and felt comfortable about my origins. I don't know much about my birth parents but what I do know makes me think: "It Figures!" and "How F**king appropriate!".
"Dad" was a prominent Attorney in Grand Rapids MI in his early 60's. "Mom" was his 19 year old Secretary ..in 1962 woman just did not go and have babies on their own. So she did the "right thing" I suppose and gave up on me...er, gave me up for adoption.
If I have had any specific feelings about it over these years it is that she was just caught up in the machine called LIFE and had no choice but to throw in the towel and put me up for adoption. Society would have crucified her if she hadn't.
He on the other hand, in my injured heart mind was a f**king Villain...a real BAD DAD. And for nearly 50 years that is how I saw it....until it dawned on me several (sleepless) nights ago that he too was a victim of that screwed up society.
I knew he had grown kids...so I always assumed he would never want any more....well, who the hell am I to ASSUME that?! I haven't a clue what he would have wanted....maybe he would have liked a lot more children, but now we will never know. So I feel cheated now but maybe HE DID TOO! Perhaps he never even knew he was a father again...
Dad? Are you out there? Dad? Dad...Dad.....
So those are the thoughts and feelings that have led me on this little blog adventure tonight. That is why I am playing one of the songs Pearl Jam first wrote together as a band...a song Eddie Vedder wrote for the father HE NEVER KNEW. Well he knew him as a distant friend of the family. He was told that another man was his dad.
Here are the lyrics to this song and needless to say...I could have written these to my "Dad":
Release
Father...ooh...oh...oh...
I see the world, feel the chill Which way to go, windowsill I see the world on a rocking horse of time I see the birds in the rain Ohh...ohh...ohh...ohh...
Oh, dear dad, can you see me now I am myself, like you somehow I'll ride the wave, where it takes meeeeeeeee... I'll hold the pain, release me... Ohh...ohh...ohh...ohh...
Oh, dear dad, can you see me now I am myself, like you somehow I'll wait up in the dark for you to speak to me I'll open up...Release me... Release me (3x) Ohh...ohh...ohh...ohh...
This is truly the first time that I have ever looked at life through the eyes of my birth father. And instead if the intense anger and hatred I felt for his abandoning me, I feel an incredible compassion....I really miss him. I know that even if I wanted to meet him now face to face that I couldn't because he is most surely dead by now...We do know he was in his 60's when I was born. My birth Mom on the other hand would be 79 but I have no inclination to meet her now or in the future. Perhaps my heart will soften in that regard as well.... Tonight I'll start here with "dad" and see where HE leads me, eh?? OK Father...where we going?
I have really been out of the loop lately and not able to post anything worthwhile. Most of that was because I had not been able to sleep. Well I am still not sleeping much and now it seems i have the beginnings of that respiratory CRAP that has been going around this whole region for a month or better. I think I am hanging in there with my health though who really knows. I started anti-biotic trying to get ahead of this who thing...we will see if that plan works. Until later then...Bye, Bye!
Today was Sunday....not typically one of my favorite days of the week to begin with but it seems like K and I are finally succumbing to this Respiratory CRUD (possible Flu?) that has been ravaging the area, closing schools in nearby counties, in nearby Indiana and Ohio as well. We have been lucky to dodge it especially because my parents fell ill right after they left here for Florida and it was verified that they indeed had the flu. They are still battling it over 2 weeks later. I am still uncertain if this is a full blown Cold or the Flu...Ii just know the sniffles, low grade fever and chills does sound like the beginnings of something nasty...we will find out for sure in the next couple of days. So Stay Tuned Folks...
It is strange to feel this way or really even to notice it but for a while today, life seemed much the same as it used to feel. In other words I felt normal...no sleep deprivation or shell shock expressions in the bathroom mirror with the accompanying Thousand Yard Stare. I felt light hearted, unburdened and free. And then of course the feeling passed and I started to drag tail again...yet somehow in spite of that fact...I feel optimistic that perhaps this difficult time is beginning to pass on. A very happy boy I will be if (when?) that happens. I do want to mention some incredibly sad news tonight For a couple years I have followed the blog of Alice, a teenager from England who has had terminal cancer for the last 5 years called Alice's Bucket List. The reader basically follows this bright young girl as she fulfills her bucket list with the help of many people who are helping her. Her story became very well known all over England. She was a brave one who faced the inevitable outcome and painful treatments to prolong her life with a great attitude and good cheer. I must say I felt pretty dumb feeling sorry for myself about my little problems when this brave soul laughed at DEATH every day and made the very best of it. She often was the one cheering up OTHERS not the other way around... I think my readers know where this is going...Alice died earlier today and I must say that I feel devastated...just heart-broken inside. Now remember, I never met this young lady and did not know anyone associated with her. But she was just so bright, lively and open about her situation....she was an inspiration and she will really be missed. I hope the light hearted feelings of this afternoon signify a real change taking place inside of me. If anything it restored a little sense of hope that I am not doomed to spend the rest of my life locked in that terrible state of sleep deprivation. I'm hanging on folks....not gonna let go.
I freaking LOVE bacon...I really do. I always considered it the world's greatest, perhaps perfect food...except for breakfast food. Then it came in a close second to BEER...Non-Alcoholics or Junkies should not try and figure this out, they will only hurt themselves and STILL it won't make any sense. Nothing about addiction is logical or makes sense...except people die from it...in DROVES...every freaking DAY! I think I'll save THAT explanation for another time...when I can conjure something up that sound brilliant and makes me look astute. That folks...could take years so I suggest that no one try and hold their breath. As you have probably guess by now there is some bacon being cooked around here this morning and I for one am losing what wee little bit of self control I have so I believe it's time to shut down the blog and go indulge my food lust for Bacon. Actually the latest obsession is baco & egg on toasted English Muffin with a light spread or REAL butter. In fact that sounds so incredible fricking good that I am shutting down my post and go eat!
Just when I think I have something all figured out, fate intervenes and I end up being incorrect. On Tuesdays I read at the Church for an hour each night and we are making our way through the Bible. This isn't a Bible Study, it's simply one person reading so all the others have to do is listen. Much like how they used to pass on the original manuscript through oral histories. I suspected we would not have anyone show up because yesterday was the churches Annual Meeting at 7p. I had wanted to cancel the whole meeting but as fate would have it I mis-communicated so it got in the bulletin that it was Tues. at 6p so i figured that is what God wants me to do. We had 2 new couples and it was one of the most gratifying af off sessions....I couldn't be more pleased. it just goes to show you what i have been saying all along...that ultimately I have NO CLUE whats best for every ONE!
I have been writing about the difficulty I have been having with my inability to get any real kind of sleep. I just realized that because of the extreme exhaustion, it is almost as if I no longer have the ability to feel. I'm stiff, emotionless and this has left me virtually without being physically active at all, I am just so very tired that it concerns me. It concerns me because I live out in the country and need to drive everywhere and there are times where it really is not safe for me to drive. And then there are the many activities I try to do each and every day of my life.I am currently at church waiting to read for 45 minutes during our Bible listening ministry. It is not easy reading out loud for 45 minutes when you are as tired as I am. The funny thing about all this strange and often difficult stuff that I have been experiencing lately is that ultimately it makes me a more patient, better understanding human being. I cannot serve God the way I am expected to if I continue to put my desires, my wants and my needs above everyone else. Tonight I came to this Bible reading group expecting no one to show up. There had been some confusion on my part, I gave the church executive assistant the wrong start date. I had intended to start next Tuesday because the church is having their annual meeting tonight and I was sure that would affect attendance from our regulars and you know what? It did prevent people from attending, because most of them didn't show up...but two new couples did! Funny how that works eh? I had thought about pulling the plug on tonight because I didn't feel like it and I was sure no one was coming....oh boy was I ever mistaken! I am really happy I didn't follow through on my laziness! It's amazing how this somehow always ends up the way it's supposed to!
I'm not quite sure what to do with myself this afternoon...I actually got a few hours of sleep. I still feel distracted and not really like I normally do but I'm better then I have been lately, that's for sure! I am still feeling somewhat at a loss for words....I'm not sure what to write about or how to go about even beginning. I've written in the past about how we had a mild winter last year and I am seeing some similarities already with this years weather or should I say LACK of IT?! The lake never even got close to totally freezing up last year and you can see by the picture I posted above that the lake still has a great deal of open water and the temps this week are supposed to reach the 50's so I imagine the ice we have will disappear and we'll have to start over. Usually by this time of year we've had several heavy winter storms and a lot of snow. I'm not saying I want to deal with a ton of snow but i wouldn't mind a little bit of one though. I would not care to repeat the winter of last year. So come on Mr Snow MIZER...we need a good old fashioned heavy snowfall...let's say 12-15" or so. I haven'y seen a snowfall like that since I moved here from Holland, MI 6 years ago. OK, I'm signing off for now...
I'm gonna let a bit of the Central/Southern Ohio (pronounced OhiAh) Redneck in me out for a while when I say that "I am really getting tired of hurtin' like this, Dagnabit! All goofin' aside, I am really hurting today physically. I make the distinction that it is physical pain because I suffer my fair share of psychological and emotional pain as well....and of course most of that pain never goes away so it's presence is a constant w/me. I'm not sure how much I have really spoken about my physical disabilities and limitations but since I am writing an entire post about that pain today, I figure a short explanation is probably in order. Essentially I was in a rollover car accident many years ago and though at the time we thought I had only suffered bumps and bruises, time has proven that initial diagnosis incorrect....but over the years I started to have more and more pain and complications until it became obvious that something was really, really wrong. After several years of treating muscular issues and telling me it was all in my HEAD, they gave in to my repeated requests for an MRI to discover a virtual horror show of ruptured disks, cracked and chipped vertebra and massive nerve damage. In addition, I now have two damaged knees and a left hip joint that is so deteriated from limping that it needs to be replaced as well as damaged right shoulder ligaments. I have neuropathy in both feet and basically have no feeling in them at all anymore and limited use of them most of the time. I live with severe pain and physical limitation each and every day of my life and it can easily become overwhelming to the point of despair.
There are times I still wish I would just die in my sleep so I wouldn't have to suffer anymore but those super "down" times are fewer these days thanks to the strength of my faith. I now realize that this is the way it is and I have to accept it. I can still live a positive, proactive life...I can reach out and help others...first and foremost by sharing the details of my life like I am doing today. Living this way has really opened up the doors of possibility for me and as I just mentioned...the days where I really feel down are rare and I almost never feel sorry for myself any more. Life really IS GOOD!
I will just come right out and write it....for the first time in the nearly 3 years I have been writing Shell Shock I am having trouble writing posts. I am not sure if it's writer's block...(could be but I don't think so) or the fact that I don't have anything to say. I am NOT buying that one either. I think know my inability to sleep is making writing very difficult if not impossible...the desire and subject matter is there but I cannot focus or concentrate (or stay awake!!) long enough to put in into any format that is coherent enough to make sense to others. The temptation is there to just bag the blog for awhile until I can write decently because some of the posts are embarrassing because of the many mistakes and inconsistencies But every time I seriously consider that option I remember why I wrote the blog in the first place: To capture the day to day life of a person in recovery from addiction and sexual assault...Obviously the inability to sleep and crappy writing are two things that come with the territory. So I am going to soldier on...what ELSE would those of you who know me expect me to do, eh?! I am sorry that the blog is suffering some right now but I suspect things will turn around so if you can, just hang in there a bit longer. If anything you can laugh at my silly, sleepless mistakes....go ahead I won't be offended! And you can also be thankful each and every day that this isn't happening to YOU!
I spent my morning and early afternoon paying my respects to a Man who served his Country in WWII. Robert D. (Bob) Norris was with the U.S. Army Signal Corp (Europe) and landed in France on June 6, 1944 (D-Day) in the 2nd wave at Omaha Beach under constant, heavy fire. His unit was attached to the 101st Airborne Division throughout the Battle of Normandy through the Breakout into Northern France. In early July 1944 after over a month of constant combat, Bob stepped on a German "Schu" Mine and had both of his legs blown off at or just below the knee. I came to know this man (who I called Uncle Bob) as a very small boy. He lived here on Iyopawa Island with his wife Nita and son Denny. He and Nita built their home here in 1953 and that is when they became close to my grandparents as well as my mother and father. Even without legs he was the most energetic, helpful, hardworking man you'd ever know. He became a constant presence on the island and most Islanders trusted their cottages to him in the winter time. Unfortunately, though Bob was in perfect physical health right up until he passed at age 90, Alzheimer's began to take his mind over a decade ago and by the time he died last week he really remembered no one....showing only occasional recognition when someone spoke a familiar name like that of their long time dog. Nita died a couple of years ago and Bob had spent the last 4 or so years in the VA Hospital in Battle Creek Michigan where surprisingly he received excellent care. One of the unexpected results of the Iraq and Afghan Wars is that VA Hospitals now receive the adequate attention, staffing and funding that they always should have in the first place. I have to admit that I am feeling rather sad tonight. The memorial service was beautiful and I had the absolute privileged of serving as one of Bob's Pall-Bearer's. He was given full military honors at graveside, include a standard 3 volley salute followed by the playing of taps on the bugle...all done magnificently by the Coldwater Post of The American Legion. It was quite cold and overcast with a gentle sow coming down...really a perfect closing to a life lived LARGE. This man would have not liked the word hero being used to describe him as he often said the true heroes are the one's still back in France or Italy, North Africa or in the Pacific. But frankly...I think he was an heroic figure...I know he was to one little boy (Me!) who looked up to him as he was to my father and my son. I regret that I do not have a picture of Bob and for some reason the Obituaries do not bring up a copy of his recent entry in the local paper..I am unsure why because it was just printed last Friday. So I am afraid I cannot honor this post with his photo today... So this world lost a great and wonderful man today...one of honor and courage who did what was right even though doing so might very well cost him his own life. Rest In Peace, Uncle Bob....
The other day I left a comment on one of the blogs I frequently read and I mentioned that one of the reasons that I blog is to be a better ME. I have also written in the past that ultimately, if I want to LIVE then I MUST write and for accountability's sake among other reasons I must do it publicly. A blog is the perfect format for fulfilling this requirement...as it were. Anyone who has ever read a few posts of Shell Shock Serenade will tell you that it is brutally and unhesitatingly honest. Yes it is a cliche....but I truly bear my soul for all to read in my posts here at Shell Shock. I will tell you in all honesty that I would rather not be so open and transparent but my experience has shown me that the only way for me to heal, to recover, to grow from the torment and horror of my past experience is to share it with others. Obviously those memories, thoughts and feelings...if repressed and held inside are virtually like POISON to me. They eat me alive from the inside out. Ultimately that road lead me to suicide. But there is an equally important reason I share this information the way I do...It very possibly helps others when I do. There is a critical benefit in taking something so hurtful, so negative and achieving something positive with it. I found early on in my recovery that I could not have recovery without sharing my experience, strength and hope with others. In recovery circles we have a saying that goes we cannot keep it (sobriety) unless we give it away. When I first sobered up this made absolutely NO sense at all. Today it is crystal clear to me. My past life was totally based on SELF. And as my alcoholism/addiction continued to progress, the very nature of it is selfish because your world revolves around one thing and one thing only...staying intoxicated and high. This way I thought I was avoiding the pain. Little did I know that I was just adding to it. The booze and drugs gave me a false sense of well being, that nothing could hurt me any longer. But at some point that all changed and the addiction became a prison of my own creation from which I could never seemingly escape! As if my addiction/alcoholism in itself wasn't punishing enough...since the age of 12 I had been living with a horrifying little secret that I had been unsuccessfully trying to repress or make go away: I was beaten and gang raped by 3 grown men I had never seen before because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was already an addict at age 12 and my need for drugs took me somewhere I never should have been. And boy did I pay a price for that mistake... I couldn't even begin tonight to explain all the repercussions that being sexually assaulted had on me physically, psychologically, emotionally and spiritually. The stigma of being male and the implication that somehow I must be gay and deserved it somehow loomed large. And though I am not gay, this experience has certainly made me more accepting and understanding to people who are different then I am. Perhaps that is one of the few positives that have come from this experience: I am much more sensitive to others...and I care so much more about people and how they feel. For the most part, my recovery from addiction has been ongoing now for nearly 7 years. I would say that I honestly had done no real work on healing from rape since I had seen a trauma therapist in 1989 who diagnosed me with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and helped me admit for the first time to another person what had happened to me. Since thn I really had done nothing to help me heal and I believe now that I really regressed in a lot of ways. By opening that can of worms and talking about it I made myself incredibly vulnerable but i did nothing to help me deal with the anger, self-hatred, rage, guilt, blame, etc that I had unleashed by my admission. I was seriously self-destructive because of this but I never saw it. I just felt that I lived on the edge and it was no surprise that this fed my addiction like a ravenous Lion. Ans so that is basically where I am today. I am openly dealing with the sexual assault with therapy, spirituality and by honestly writing about the experience and what I have learned so I can share that all with others who are suffering. But I still feel stigmatized...i still feel like a castaway, a total outsider. No matter how much I try I still feel different then everyone else. At church for example...I feel so uncomfortable...as if everyone knows what happened to me and judges me for it.Even though they are nice to me, they mock me and treat me as being something less then they are. This is a very common feeling for me and something I have had to fight and resist giving into each and every day. Well that is my current "State Of Being" as it were. Though there are still painful steps that must be taken and dealt with each and every day...life is tolerable and even pretty good for the most pat But let's face it...I will need to work through this sh*t each and every day and there will never be such a thing as a cure No just daily treatment of helping others, honesty, abstinence that keeps the Hell Hound Off my back. Such is the life I get to live but considering the alternative....I'll take it!
I have mentioned in the last few posts that we have had several friends die here in the last week and I just found out that another family friend in Chicago passed in his sleep last night. That's 4 in 6 days and it no longer even gives me the willy s... I have become numb...uncomfortably numb to play off the title of the well know song from the Album: The Wall.The Grimm Reaper has become my Matey and we hang out together now. Most of the time he is a real good bloke...he is just a bit moody at times and he needs to spruce up his wardrobe some and lose the Scythe. It frightens people away though I always thought it was kind of cool to accessorize!. I have a lot to write about but little time to do it at the moment... I had a very strange yet enlightening experience last night that actually REALLY GOT MY ATTENTION. I stumbled on a full length Australian made movie about Aussie Miners on the Western Front in the Great War...it is called: Beneath Hill 60. It was simply the best representation in my opinion of what those trenches were like in 1916...and it really sent me for an emotional roller coaster ride and I wanted to share the experience with Kim to let her know what I go through in my dreams each and every night....complete with being buried alive and major RAT encounters. Anyhow, I shall sign off for now I as really need to eat...until we meet again on these pages.
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