Monday, March 28, 2011
This stuff is so deep and so tangled that I honestly don't see how it is possible to salvage anytime I have left and possibly "get a life I would fight death for , for just one day more".
Sunday, March 27, 2011
I haven't lived very much I admit it, I haven't experienced shock and awe. What if I asked to have a leave I would actually hate to leave? What if i focused on creating a life I would actually fight not to leave.
I listened and watched to some great music on PBS tonight and I don't know what it is about the group numbers , but when they all join in with full voice, it makes me weep a weep that could seriously go into full sob. lol
Saturday, March 26, 2011
(insert witty ass title HERE)
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
If I had a Tee Shirt machine I would make us all Tee Shirts with the NA logo and a stamp of RECYCLED MATERIAL on the chest of the shirt. Gregg County Recycle Center. lol
Monday, March 21, 2011
Portion of an online conversation that i had with a cool chick i know that i wanted to go back over and read again for myself before I forget everything
Yesterday on the way to the meeting hall I stopped at Sonic to get a cold sweet coffee. I had like 2 dollar bills and my bank card. I paid for it with my bank card but did not have 2 quarters to give the gal who was gonna bring it out. I thought about asking for 4 quarters but I thought that made me look like a cheap bastard. Then I heard my IDS say, just give her the whole dollar. For some reason I did not want to give her the dollar and was too embarrassed to ask for change so I left nothing.
I pulled out and zipped down highway 80 with the sun roof open and the front windows down sippin' on my frozen coffee drink when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. The dollar bill that I had laid in the passenger seat was lifted up by the all the wind of the open windows and did 2 graceful loops, hung suspended for a split second and was sucked right out the window.
I knew as it was happening that was going to be the outcome and by the time it actually flew out the passenger window I was already laughing. I was laughing that the power that loves me knows exactly how to get my attention when I am to into myself, too into myself to follow the internal directives. That was a reminder-lesson worth a dollar to me. It simply wasn't my dollar to keep and I wish the girl at Sonic could gotten it instead of the road side cleanup people. But following directives saves me the burden of worrying about results. I am only responsible to the universe for the actions it dictates and I choose to follow. I have nothing to do with outcome and even my perspective of the result is subject to being dead wrong. lol
I just thought it was a special little recovery tale from yesterday I would pass along. My listening skills are fine evidently, I just break down in follow through now and then. lol
There have been some times I think about the money and energy I have wasted on reading books and articles aimed at better understanding yourself or to change parts of me and I wished I had my money back. lol I realized yesterday that all that practice for 20 years has made me very very good at spotting in recovery literature things that apply directly to me. It is sort of a muscle that even during times of relapse for me I never let die. I would drink beers at home two at a time from a glass and have my nose buried in books of spirituality and growth while I was doing it. I'd eat xanax like candy and muscle relaxer like sweets while I devoured books on changing my life and outlook.
The fact is, I have never , NOT looked for answers. I remember being 12 and deciding that there was no way you could realize you were happy while it was happening. Only in retrospect could you see, "boy , I was happy".
Of course I was dead wrong but you have to admit that is some heady stuff for a 12 year old be be thinking up. I came to earth and into my being with a touch of sadness about my spirit. It to me is the quarter teaspoon of salt in the Toll House Cookie recipe. You think why would anything sweet need salt? The answer is you don't taste the salt directly but it enhances the flavor of the chocolate. It's like a super booster for the sweet. So the part of my soul that is always keenly away of the sadness , just behind the laughter, just sweetens the moments that life brings to me.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
In 1987 the decline began in earnest. Less and less girls were interested in old fashioned things. They understood nothing about the history of the town coming together , bringing the best girls possible to the stage and let them show everyone what they could do. It was a venue for them to express themselves and surprise everyone. Including themselves. The slick auditorium long replaced the sweaty summer nights in the basket ball gymnasium and somewhere slick modern distractions have taken away a few beautifully simple ones. I am 43 and can still remember the names of some of the winners and they went on to be great ladies and great moms and great members of their communities. I guess the unspoken part of nostalgia is the sadness that things have changed and not necessarily for the better. They quit having our little home town pageant and then someone will try to save it, but I have resigned myself to the fact the old saying is true, you cannot UN-RING a bell. The hometown pageant is DEAD in Texas. Those girls, those "it" girls who planned , practiced, set goals, polished up on current events, road in a dozen parades, waved when they felt like shivering, borrowed gowns to save money, pulled a talent out of a an empty bag that could charm a roomful of people and smile widely to let you see they freaking loved every minute of it. It was such a great little piece of Americana, pretty girls smiling and waving from a spiffed up sports car in between the marching band and the Shriners in their spooky tiny cars every year at Christmas Time..
I knew for sure the death of the home town pageant hit Texas, a state that loves it's big haired beauties like no other, pulled the plug on airing the Miss Texas Pageant on TV. I'm sad for the loss of interest in all things simple and American but very happy the Nicole Rezza is getting to carry on the Tradition in the parade for South Boston as the reigning Miss Ice-O-rama. I hope she savors every camel spin and sequin. I hope she wins it until she is too old to be in the competition.
I love my WiFi and cell phones but there was something to be said about a girl with a dream, a crown and a crowd and a panel of judges looking for a girl, -THAT GIRL.
Thank you for giving me stuff to think about and miss today.
Clinton R. Gandy
Just skating by
Being Miss Ice-O-Rama isn’t what it used to be
Saturday, March 19, 2011
So after I got through keying the shit out of his dumb ass Rick Perry stickers, I signed it love, 2.0 . That part is a joke but look around at what people claim for identities for themselves.
Next time you are at a stoplight look around and see, "Aggies Mom, Honor students grandma, Democrat, republican , Libertarian, Cowboy fan, etc. .......
Today because of years of therapy and lot's of 12 step times, halls and a variety of types, I know a few things about who I am today and it is information that is spirit based. I'm doing much better in not letting you tell me who I am, or my mom or one really pushy friend I have. It's a cheesy saying but, this isn't a dress rehearsal, I don't want to spend one more moment being someone that isn't me and frankly I don't like.
So my question to you, once again is "who the hell do you think YOU are.lol The hope the program offered me first was the fact, the understand that I was not the sum of all my fuck ups . I was more than an unfortunate score card of addiction and blinding failures in attempts to live a life on the planet earth.
I also have the privilege of sharing who i am with you not trying to conform to what I think you need me to be in order to like me. There is a huge difference in being in my life and being a part of my life. I hope for the same reciprocity with people that don't care for me in the hall but live along side me in the 12 step hall.
I'm not a mood ring from the 70's waiting to be told how I feel and what color I should be at any given moment and it makes me so look forward to more. More will be revealed and WE DO RECOVER.
NA is a process of identification not assimilation.
Another thing I was remember today, about 4 years ago, actually I have no for sure way of know the time frame, I began working with someone reading the Eckert Tolle book called "A new earth". It talks in great detail about what he terms our "Pain Body" and it is like a black clouded filter, in which our current moment passes through and tells our brain that since it ended badly last time, this is what I have to look forward to this time. This energy body of suffering and pain acts like a veil in which, through which I see a warped and distorted version of my now.
It's wasn't a quick easy read but I was glad I read it. I then went back and read his first book, "The power of NOW". Much easier to read and much more the message I needed to hear. It got me noticing how much exposure I had to negative people, places and things. I purposely started protecting myself from "bad mojo". I blocked all the cable news nets, no murder profiles on Dateline and NO TRUE crime stories on the court house channel.
Our wireless service was interupted and I called the 800 number. The lady had me unscrew the coaxil cable where the cable attached to the modem and she had me touch the copper wire with my finger for 45 seconds. I did that, screwed it back in and Boom, we were back in business. She told me that extraneous sound bits and basically particles of noise would collect at the point where the coax joined the modem and it needed to be grounded to clear the floating bits away. She was talking about the wireless modem, but I was hearing her say, "You collect bits of energy like lent on a sweater, so when I have the ability to choice what I am exposed to, I try very hard to choose stuff that if buts of it linger and attaches to me, it won't be bits that bring me down, cause me pain or keep me from my own wireless connection with the universe.
The shit we subject ourselves to has consequences. It's this something that will make me better or is this something that will make me bitter.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
We all laced up for our first class and everyone got on the ice. Frankie, Gill and the rest of the guys were holding on to the railing and I just skated right past them. In ten minutes childhood roller skating muscle memories came back and I started skating backwards. My friends were telling me that I was lying about my skill level and I assured them that I wasn't. I wanted to try one of those cool jumps. I did, and I landed flat out knocking the wind out of my lungs and barely missing coming down flat on my chin, It was the hardest fall I ever had without breaking something.
The next lesson, I was back with everyone else, learning how to stand up right and move holding on to the rails. The fall had introduce fear into me and it completely convinced my that i couldn't do this. I could barely stand up and the ice looked hard.
We hear a bunch about being perfections. Martha Stewart is called a perfectionist. To me, my fear on not doing something perfect keeps me from participating in many many things. Fear lies to me, it says things like there is no room for mediocrity and this if it isn't pretty than it's not perfect.
I saw some 10 year old do something incredible on TV and a friend with me said "How did that kid do that" and my response was, he didn't have anyone he believed in, tell him he couldn't do that. He didn't know how to listen to the voices of doubt in his own mind. It's so crazy that the more experience we get on earth the harder it is to do and try things because we are afraid, (I am afraid) to fail or look foolish. Think about all the stuff we had to learn as children.
I'm not sure I would have ever learned to tie my shoes, to read, learn to swim or to go to the bathroom on my own if I had to deal with the idea that failure had been a possibility.
Every major religion tells its followers/studiers to "be like children" and frankly for me a lot of the times means- to do it now, fear it later.
There is really a beautiful thing that happens when I face a fear, live through it and come out the other side. First, it gives me usable experience to share with others and second, it makes me a little big stronger when I need to pull from my own courage reserves to get through the next big horrible monster of a thing I think will kill me.
Just for today I will show up and "pay no attention to the man behind the curtain". I may have to hold someones hand but I can get through whatever fearful stuff comes my way.
To paraphrase someone elses idea "We spend our lives running for monsters that didn't exist and never really chased us."
THE POWER INSIDE IS GREATER THAN THE FEAR THAT LIES AHEAD.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
I woke up in the same place I went to sleep. Cool. lol
He mentioned he new someone who was a decade clean and had never been to NA.
All I need to know, is there is a Grand Canyon size gap in being abstinent and recovering. Maybe on a bad day, clinging to abstinence may be all I have, but I come to NARCOTICS ANNONYMOUS damn nearly daily and pay my dollar (most days) because I want to live a recovered life. I want my life and spirit to be remade from the inside out like dozens of other people I have seen. I'm not there by any means to win a fancy car or go back to school and see my lifelong dream of being a doctor or a lawyer finally happen.(some do and we use them for the brochure cover. lol)
My recovery goal and my recovery dream is really simple. I want to not use on a daily basis and wake up with the knowing I have something awesome to offer the world and I want to be as gentle and kind with my shortcomings as I am with yours.
I just want to thoroughly enjoy the experience of being a "spiritual being having a human experience", and I want to bring anyone that's interesting in that too, along with me.
Plus, it's nice to be at the party and not worry about being made fun of. lol
Monday, March 14, 2011
Even as simple as those things are above, it completely confuses me on where to start.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Now I know, lactose intolerance is a stretch comparing it to drug abuse, but the insanity is just the same and I have been looking for a way to help her understand the insanity of thinking she can get by with just a little ice cream is the same way I hope I can use a little dope and get away with it even though history says I won't. Just looking for a bridge to help understand each other. When you speak different languages of understanding ANY bridge that covers some of the gap is a good thing.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
I'm still a big advocate of medicines, I just had done enough healing to take the safety ropes off . Like I said I have 5 or 6 refills on file and if the darkness returns, I'll be at CVS by lunch time. lol
The irony of the addict running on distorted emotion is that emotions of all kind freak me ass out because they feel uncontrollable to me, so basically fear and other mutant emotions have driven me to the edge of disaster for 30 years. I wouldn't begin to even say that out loud if I didn't believe one hundred percent that Narcotics Anonymous, it's members who share their experience strength and hope, and my tiny understanding of things spiritual were gonna get me through what ever comes up. Today, I am going to focus on I over E. (I/E) I will make better decisions for my recover that aren't based of self and steeped in fear.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
I just commented to Katy that 2.0 said I had options when a clerk went off on me and I thought I probably should put down in text form the whole meaning of the 2.O thing. It's the me that I refer to after recovery, and after 10 years of therapy, it is the better version of the same of the same deserving person on the planet I have always been, but I've just taken the upgrade that was made available but hard ass work and ego crushing blows that got me to a point of being teachable.
It is an millennial take on the old good twin/ evil twin. In my case it's recovery Clinton or dark and ill clinton. lol
It' won't mean anything to anyone but me. I want to see I have been remade when I see my signature. At least, Just for today.
I just keep my focus on my intention and try to let you learn the way you learn. My NA hall is just a giant study hall, where it is ok to make mistakes and know that you can't be run up and out of it while the process in in motion.
There was a lady I bump heads with, and I used a photograph to make a phony pharmaceutical advertisement using her picture. My plan was for one person, who would get a kick out of it to see it. Instead one of her sponsees saw it and went running to her sponsor that I put her in a Herpes Treatment advertisement.
My intention, was to knock down a person I considered a bully, privately. It set a lot of emotion IN motion and it taught me two lessons. One, the first is, leave no paper trail, and the other was to remember there is a person behind the mask of ego and bully.
I'd still love to take her inventory but recovery isn't about what I think of her program, it's putting together my own program that will save my ass. There are no saints in NA and we are all part horns and halos.
With my friends I usually say dirt whores with halos, but i don't know you guys well enough to call you loving pet names. lol
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
The more I talk and get to know addicts the more I am leveled by the facts that we are all terrified to make mistakes and "failing", and we are so hard on ourselves when it comes to accepting love.
My sponsor was the first person who told me "We love you just the way you are" in a way that I really heard it and believed him. I was complaining about someone sharing at a meeting that came off to me like a low low end televangelist earlier tonight. The fact is a lot of people vibe to him. Regardless of what I think of him I would never say he wasn't welcome in a meeting and I wouldn't try to get my little group to run him out. Besides the miracle of addicts living without using, the other miracle is the program was set up in a way the "principles before personality" saves us from ourselves. No one person can be so "right" that we run someone else out.
And what that really means to me is , I can go in and be myself and they can't make me leave if they don't like me. lol For someone with social anxiety like mine, that social cushion of having a spot regardless regardless of group opinion of me makes me feel safe. I have to feel safe in order to grow. I wasn't safe growing up and I shut down to protect myself. I try my hardest to make new people feel safe when they come in. I try to do for them what I needed and need today.
All my life I just wanted to feel F E E L cared for. I get it today for a dollar a meeting and a little service on the side.lol
Failure isn't fatal. In fact I'm not even sure it is failure. Only time will tell. Post it notes were developed from a highly anticipated epoxy that "failed" technically.-
I really did have that revelation in a Lambda meeting but it wasn't hair related.
In my head I was suddenly back to being really little and I would carry sweet tarts in pill bottles and take "medicine" when I ate candy. I also love to carry coins/change in old pill bottles. Flintstones vitamins tasted like a slightly fucked up Sweet Tarts and I wanted to eat the whole bottle. If one a day was good then two or three--even better. At 4 or 5 I learned I was old enough for a headache and that meant asprin and attention. I don't think they make it but there was this Aspergum that was the best come I ever chewed.
Alice in Wonderland, the cartoon film, had the beautiful glowing liquid that said "Drink Me" and then the magic started.
I made the connection super super early (by 5) that pills were magic and they could do something for me that I couldn't do on my own. I had constant ear infections and I knew as day after I started taking the grey and purple antibiotic my ear ache would magically go away while I slept.
I was and am the product of the pill generation. They can save you from depression, relax you to the point you don't care if your own hair is on fire and it can make an 80 year old penis do tricks like it was a teenager.
But mostly what pills do for me is they treat symptoms without addressing the root causes. Pills mask the illness while they entertain the symptom.
I know today, just for today, there isn't a pill coming down the turn pike that will make me happy, pretty, thin or intellengent. Bradly Cooper has a new film coming out about a pill that makes you perfect and I laughed when I saw the trailer for it because the pill is very small and completely clear and it looks like something I would take ten of , because the dose was based on a normal person's size with the weight of 165lbs, and I'm nearly double that.lol (see what deal with daily)
So , this big ass amber/brown pill bottle has caused quite a little theatrical production in my head since I spotted it on the counter.. Is it wrong I want to fill it with skittles. LOL
I bought into my pill fascination long before I took what I would consider a "real Pill", like a pharmaceutical clairvoyant at 4 years old.....
I was a weird kid. I toted candy like pills and when no one was around I played "Alcoholic", "Mommy Needs a Drink". But that is another story for another day.
Keep passing the open windows!
Monday, March 7, 2011
Frankly, I woke up at 4:30, and my brain was in the mood for generating thoughts. I'm pretty sure that is why I woke up early. I'm going to have to work extra hard today to focus. When I am bombarded my thoughts it is easy for me to focus on our differences and separate myself from the herd. Just like the animals on the Nature Show, once I get to far away from my herd I become way more vulnerable.
What is going on with me is I have a big desire to become more a part of the world again. I'd like my autonomy in my life and I would love to be in Longview to really make the most out of being around and close to the people in recovery. I'm really at the end of my rope with my sister's using and her constant stupor and when I had no choice but to move into my mother's home because of finances and my inability to cope with life and my all consuming fear, it made me feel safe to be here.
Now I don't need or want the constant caretaking, and I am of course starting a resentment, even though I know mom is part of the reason I lived through active addiction. Do you remember the pinching when you out grew shoes as a kid?
One dramatic difference in my life and my thinking that being clean for just under 11 months, is I now know there is a life out there fore me that will be satisfying and purposeful. It's up to me to do the footwork and I'm fine with that but I honestly just don't know how to start. I guess talking about it with men that have done it themselves last night was a good start. Going to a meeting is always a good start.
I'm ready for more. More recovery, more connection , more love, more understanding, more hope and more joy. I want to be fully self supporting through my own contributions.
You live in a house with people you have traumatized with your addiction and crazy addict ways and you find yourself tiptoeing and trying not to make noise because you might frighten them. I'd love to drop a fork on a hard wood floor and not have to fearful voices yell out from the back of the house "WHAT WAS THAT".
I think that I am gifted by the universe for my lack of desire of "things".. I have no drive to own or collect the trappings that an American is suppose to desire. I don't care about have "The Car", "The Clothes", "BIG TV". I'm not terrorized by the same demons that have always haunted my dad. Nothing ever was good enough for long and he has always looked for the next big thing to give him some sort of sense of fulfillment. Even when he switched lives and wives, he found out that it was a mistake.
I'm simple as far as needs and wants go. I've never been driven for things. I thought for along time is was related to having no self esteem and not feeling worthy of having things but I found out this year that is not the case. I'm just not interesting in excess. I've never NEVER met a generic I could grow to love. I was telling someone the other day that I keep a minimum of things and like clockwork I cull everything and through stuff away that I don't want or need. My philosophy has been never own more than I could get in the hatchback of a Chevy Chevette if I had to leave in a hurry.
As the plans start to be made for the April Camp out I'm more aware than ever that next month marks the end of my first year in recovery. I've worked a good chunk of steps, I am of service, my level of compassion has grown like crazy and I fear people much less. I'm grateful down to the cellular level of being and that tells the universe I am ready for more, now I am sharing with you that I am indeed ready for more.
I'm all in Mother Fucker , Still. And Mother Fuckers I want MORE>
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Part of the physicians oath is "First do no harm". I know that for me, the things that I find I can no longer tolerate and have to be addressed in my recovery program of recovery must be tendered or carried out with the same cautiousness of a doctor who has taken the oath of doing no harm. As I grow and change there are dynamics of personalities that don't suit what I am trying to accomplish with my life and staying clean. My first instinct is to deliver an inventory of someone,"just in case" they have no clue they are doing it all wrong when it comes to being a part of my life. lol (hello ego). But when your spiritual progress runs smack into a person whose primary focus is F E A R and control, it's terribley uncomfortable and very hard to balance respect for where they are in their lives and your own growth and stability with matters of spirituality and sobriety. One of my all time favorite old sayings in the south is "Don't throw the baby out with the bathwater". It's a favorite because I tend to through everything away when perhaps I just need to learn to upgrade somethings like relationships. It's easier to run than have awkward conversations where I state how I feel and you state how you feel and then we try to grow together (or not).
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Love Hurts....ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhoooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh Love hurts.
Day before yesterday was my dads 75th birthday. I've only seen him once in 15 months and I wouldn't have seen him then but I didn't see how I could possibly get out of going to my grandma's memorial thing. My relationship with my dad is painful for me. I felt like 75 was a big enough number of years on the planet so I called his cell phone. I called the cell first because it was in the middle of the and figured he wouldn't be in the house and I did NOT want to have to fake pleasantries with his wife. He answers the cell, I say happy birthday and he says thank you and to call on the home phone next time, because this one cost money. So 2 days later ,my head has decided to take issue with that request not to call on the cell phone. I have waves of flashing rage at myself for making the call, and just plain hurt feelings over being told he didn't want to pay a dime a minute for a 3 minute phone call. My motive was simply to have one of his kids say happy birthday and it has turned into a "Dammit, this is what happens when I let myself be vulnerable. I'm sort of caught between not saying anything and stuffing it and finding a buffet to hump this weekend, or telling him he is such a miserable mutha fucka that I hope he gets trampled to death my the farm animals that he managed to take better care of than his kids.
Is Charlie Brown the idiot for thinking perhaps Lucy won't jerk the football away just as he runs to kick it or is he practicing spiritual principle by hoping and believing anything is possible. I have pulled some shit in my day regarding he and his wife, I certainly am not intentionally living in a glass house, but I don't know of anyone who I know the first and last name of that I would mind spending a dollar worth of time on a cell phone. He drives a 50 thousand dollar Avalanche but has a problem with sell phone charges. I just needed to get that out because I won't share it with my mom or sister, they know he is fucked up and selfish. I just am unwilling to carry this spiritual mucous around all day. If this doesn't help, I will hit the cell phone list, which as I have established my father's is no long on.
Friday, March 4, 2011
This is Clinton Gandy from Texas. I was at Brentwood in April of last year. I just wanted to reach out and let you know that I am still clean and the kindness you showed me while I was there is still paying off. After I got home and processed my time and my re-awakening there at Brentwood I figured out the most important thing that you did for me and I now do for other people. You pointed out to me or directed my attention to the special attributes that I bring to the table when I come for recovery.
It was a lot like gently being awakened for a deep sleep. I now point out things to people both old and new in my NA hall about themselves that they may have never noticed or forgotten. I’ve told more than a view people that Nurse John helped me remember who I was after I went “COMA”.
Brentwood and whatever AA group you go to are really lucky to have a spirit like yours in the mix.
I’m closing in on 11 months and the colored plastic keytags are great, their fine, but the quality of my life and my recovery on a day to day basis and how it impacts others favorably is what I am most concerned with.
There are some tired little cliché’s that get truer every day, and one is “Recovery is not a Sprint, it is a marathon”.
It’s very interesting to see a life, my life evolving to something important to both myself and everyone I love.
I took a big step in order for my recover to get a little bigger and go a little deeper.
My Pdoc had told me that if I wanted to stop taking the antidepressant Paxil he would be all for it. I had repeatedly mentioned I didn’t understand how I could be in such a good place but be so removed from a connection. I haven’t really laughed til it hurt in a long time or been moved to tears by something that I know is touching my heart.
My doctor explained to me that with this SSRI, it keeps me from feeling the low lows, and I lose the high notes of laughter and the great feelings. He also said that it creates an apathy for some people like me where I am just “unmoved”.
I have to be honest it was a frightening process. The electrical “zaps” in the head were very disconcerting and the withdrawal info online mentions “Paxil Flu” where your skins is warm and nearly sweat but the room is cold.
I feel to the marrow of my bones that my recovery and the steps plus the group will be able to support me if I have a problem with depression again, and I also have 5 refills on my account at CVS so I don’t even have to go see the doc if it looks like I need them.
Yesterday was my first day feeling like the detox was over and I really did feel free. I laughed a lot and my eyes misted up when I was retelling a story that moved me. I felt like a human who was hitting on all the levels.
I’m still on my two other mental meds and I have no thoughts of ever going off Lithium because Charlie Sheen reminds me of what happens with bipolar people get hung in mania and can’t get out.
Years ago, I decided I was leaving and took everything I owned to the little local auction barn and I was leaving my name and persona behind. I ended up in the hospital (again) and I made 35 dollars on the auctioning of my things. Lol I still miss my stainless art deco coffee table. Ha
Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you again. All of this may have happened for me without your help, I don’t know. I do know that I am so much the better for spending a few hours a day with you, for a week in April last year.
You are very intuitive on how you approach the indivuals at Brentwood and I try very hard to model myself after you. I saw you at any given time speak 5 foreign languages of recovery to 10 different people at once, seamlessly weaving together a beginning our approach of a clean living program.
I had one a man who has many many years clean speak with me after the noon meeting yesterday for over 90 minutes. He and I sat on the air units in back of the building and just exchanged “experience, strength and Hope”. He told me that he gets a big kick and enjoys my particular perspective on things and that I always had a thoughtful take on all that is my life and my recovery
I told him thank you very much and I too adore the perspective that I have. For the first time, I really enjoy the fact that I don’t see what others see the way they see it, and I don’t hear necessarily what others hear. I just pick up on the off notes to make me go, hmmmm. That is big big growth me me.
My experience is what makes me valuable to people and I am luckily in a place I can share my experience. I’ve still got my training wheels on and one day they will cease to be necessary, but why make things harder for myself than they have to be right now.
You made it possible for me to re-enter a recovery program, with your small but methodical approach to waking me up to the really good parts of my self.
Because having a program of recovery is more important that an extra 4 or 5 days added to my clean time, I count the meeting on campus there where I picked up my white key tag as my official “Clean Date” and I would really like to come back in April and pick up a year tag at the big ass NA meeting they bring to your site. When the reading of “We do Recover” mentions the part where “We could no longer function as a human, with or with out drugs”, was read, I went from being a patient in a hospital made to go to a meeting, to a member of Narcotics Anonymous. The revolution had started and the revitalization had begun.
John, I haven’t looked back. I walked across that giant circle in the NA meeting there with a mixture of surrender and steely determination. I haven’t had too many days where I haven’t maintained that resolve.
I just wanted to say thank you, thank you. I pass your compassionate treatment of me on to every new person that comes into my hall. I think the energy created from the sharing of kindness between us all, creates an energy a lot like stem cells. That energy can be plugged in , in a million places where hope is needed and kindness is called for.
Thank you for being a part of the foundation of my recovery and charter member of the club formed for my reclamation project to be a caring , vital part of humanity again.
Clinton R. Gandy
Thursday, March 3, 2011
I'm very thankful that the worst part of withdrawal has passed or seems to. My body has been at a pleasurable non sticky temp all day, the sweaty sticky feeling is termed Paxil Flu on the list of symptoms.
The biggest lesson of the week for me is , balanced by the sanity the program of NA has restored me to thus far, it is perfectly fine for me to make decisions about my life, my health and my treatment of various issues. I am my own best advocate and if I don't speak my mind, whose fault is it I don't get fulfilled.
All over today I witness people who were once broken and drugged, make responsible choices for themselves and their families, and they are getting up and getting on with a life of endless possibilities. They are all so capable and it makes me hopeful that I am capable of way more than I could dream in my wildest dreams.
Let me put the disclaimer for your health on here, don't mess with your meds unless you have talked it through with your doctor. This time in my life it is right for me, and another big but to add, I still take Lithium and have no plans to stop. It keeps me from acting like CHARLIE SHEEN. I am sooo not kidding.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
If it was divine or chance the line of love lost and disconnection ends with me. No more Gandy boys.
Several years ago i watched a documentary on corn. For well over one hundred years corn has been so genetically modified that if man disappeared, in one years time there would never be another corn stalk grown on the planet because there is no naturally occuring wild corn anymore, we have bred the ability to self seed out of the plant. I thought about how that related to me and the fact that there will be know more from my gene pool.
I'm the last corn plant.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
A really surprising thing happened today during the withdrawal process. I had real energy and felt like doing something. Not manic energy I just felt like moving some boxes around and finally charging the battery up on my car that i haven't cranked since before Christmas.
My doctor told me yesterday that a deep since of apathy is one of the things that happens when you are on an SSRI. It chops off the highs as it balances the lows.
I have been having waves of being moved towards tears, which is scary but sort of nice because it is one of the good parts of being human with emotions.
I'm still willing to try for another day and see what it brings. I took a nap today and my new found human super powers of emotion were even activated in my dreams.