A MUST READ!
Before some of the chapters I will try to share with you a few of the things I learned with from the experiences of my life and how they helped shaped my writing. The reason I am sharing my story is simple…
1) It serves as a resume type document that will help you understand why I write about the things I do with such passion, what life experience I have while proving just how strong you really can be as long as you never give up when life gets tough.
2) I want to heal! This story is the final steps I must take in order to complete my decade+ long quest to finish healing from a life full of bullshit I would wish on my worst enemy! Hopefully you can learn from it without having to go through the same crap I did…
3) I’m really getting tired of people stealing my shit…lol
Ironically, throughout my young life I always felt like I’ve made these groundbreaking discoveries only to find out that some other scholar beat me to the punch years ago. Seriously…wtf! These reality slaps always seemed to make me feel a lot more stupid than smart. What a ego bust…huh
Interestingly though it wasn’t until a few friends of mine pointed out the fact that although I did not invent the ideas’ or philosophies. The fact that I actually did come to such conclusion at a very young age. Especially without all the education or life experience that many of these brilliant minds had accumulated was still quit impressive. Hurray!!! Overly inflated ego restored…lol
Granted I am far from an Einstein, DaVinci, Socrates, etc., I’ve quit often found myself on the same page philosophically even though I am far less intelligent or educated as these people. My question is… How did this happen? How do some of us just seem to get it, while other appear to never even get a clue? Most importantly, why the hell do many of us who wonder such thing always seem to find the sources of such discoveries after we ponder them? Seriously… it’s like the truth seems to find us after we realize it’s out their. Even when we are not looking for it!
Even though I had to accept reality and learn to appreciate the fact that I was only half as smart as I thought I was. The sad truth was, I’ve always had a lot more life experience then any of my friends could’ve ever realized. As many people will agree, there’s the life we live and keep to ourselves. Then there’s the life experiences we live and never tell anyone about.
The one thing I’ve learned from this reality is that for some reason you can always seem to learn more about exploring those hard to tell stories than the ones we freely discuss. It is with this mini-book that I plan to show you exactly what I mean.
For your entertainment I also included a special detailed Introduction section for you since few people seldom read this part of a book. You can check out by clicking here. It’s is an interesting read that will provide you with a little perspective that should help you understand me and my motivation for blogging about the topics I do without having to read my life story.
Throughout both of these sections you will also see a bit of the material related to my current and future blogs. So if you want a preview, I suggest you read them both.
You know, just in case your just too damn lazy to read a book of around a whole whopping 30 or so pages. Besides, who really has time to read anymore…lol
Sorry I couldn’t tell my life story in a few vines or memes but the reality is, if you could tell your life story with a few of these. Your life is pretty fucking boring! (Sorry, I will cuss in my book so consider this an advanced warning.) So here it goes…
Hopefully by reading my tale you will learn to appreciate your own a little more. If it was just as bad, or worse, maybe you can find some peace knowing that you are not alone… We’ve all go bruises, some of us more than others. You really are less alone in this world than you think! You’ve just go to learn how to find those special people in this would who can help you become strong enough to overcome the fear the makes it impossible to truly cut this shit loose…
P.S. I’m also looking for some of the owners of these Meme’s I’m using in my mini-book so I can give them credit and possibly attach a like to their webpage…
If you have a problem with me using them, please let me know and I’ll remove the image. But I’m still using the quote, after all. It isn’t yours anyways…lol
Born Into A Beautiful Shit Storm
LESSON: Learn to talk to your kids no matter how young they are and how little you/they understand is the most important thing you can ever do, they crave conversation… When a parent takes the time to actually interact with their child it shows them how important they are. Helping to educate and share with the how you believe the world should be maybe they can learn what they need to learn to help make it a better place. Regardless of how messed up you are, you must always try to keep it positive while remaining real.
After all, if you don’t do this someone else eventually else will! This process helps them feel comfortable telling you anything because you already established that you like to talk to them about everything. If they don’t feel as if they can tell you anything , you never know when that person who actually does talk to them maybe an asshole… or, something even worse.
Life is like a game of poker. Some of us are dealt great hand from the deck of life, other learn how to turn a bad hand around while many just never seem to figure out how to play the game. If you’re smart you’ll try to play as many hands as you can to you become better at playing. You’ll learn to take risks, figure out how to read the people you enjoy playing with and learn the importance of helping others become better players.
Some of us have the deck of life stacked in our favor, others learn how to make the best of a bad hand while those unlucky few have it stacked against them. Sometimes, no matter how we slice it…we’re just screwed before we are even born! Sometimes you’re just born into a shit you just can’t even possibly imagine. That’s me, I’m that guy…
No matter what happens though, no matter how many times were dealt a losing hand you need to keep playing. You need to keep trying to learn how to make the best of a bad hand. After all, your eventually going to get a few winning hands if you keep playing. If you refuse to play, you’re just going to get played…
Born an raised on the beautiful island of Cape Cod one would imagine that life would be just swell. Having come from a well respected family that spent many generations living in a beach front community named Provincetown (P-Town). Located at the tip of the island peninsula farthest from the rest of civilization it has always been of a very popular world renown destination. Known for its beautiful scenery, endless beaches and historical significance it really is a vacation paradise that allows you the luxury of pretty much being able to walk to everything the town has to offer. The only thing as diverse as the people who come there is the many different kinds landscapes and vistas that have attracted artisans from around the world for generations.
Surrounded by water on three sides is has only two roads that connected it to the rest of civilization. Cut off from the most of the world this tiny isolated town has always had a magnetic energy which some say is fueled by the eclectically eccentric atmosphere that attracts people from all walks of life. Filled with a rich history that emulates everything that made America great, it’s current cultural significance is more well known than its historical significance. Considering that people are infinitely more aware of its current surplus of flamboyant seasonal inhabitants that flood the streets (It’s an enclave for homosexuals…lol), the towns strong liberal open minded ideology has always allowed people to be themselves.
Sadly, these this reputation has always overshadowed the fact that my home town was the true first landing place of the Pilgrims who led the way towards the colonization of America. The only thing that stands out more about Cape Cod than my home towns stigma is the fact that one of our nations greatest visionary Presidents, John F. Kennedy’s, family and friends spent a great deal of time on the Cape during his short lived presidency.
Growing up in P-Town you can’t help but lean more towards the Democratic philosophy (no pun intended…hehehe). After all, the residence were liberal far before the term was co-opted by any political party. Even though I was pretty much raised Dem, I’m now more of a well-balanced Independent who admires ideologies on both sides of the political spectrum. Being the youngest son of two boys we were only a year and a half apart in age. Coming from the largest, most respected family in town, which housed around 3,000 year round residents at the time, should’ve made life simple.
My mother was a beautiful 60’s hippie chick who looked like a young version of Cher. Marrying her high school sweetheart, she thought she was one of the lucky ones who got the chance to spend the rest of her life with the man of her dreams while she was young. She even became a teen mom and had two beautiful baby boys before she was 21. Sadly, not long after I was born she began to realize that he husband had in fact been living a double life all along, which was something I too got a taste of at a very young age. Like most people, she lied to herself to make her feel better about her situation just like most of us do. Of which, only led to her making even more Made a bunch of bad choices afterwords, like most of us do when we refuse to face reality.
Even to this day she refuses to accept the true depths of his depravity as his life was filled with elements of evil that no one would ever suspect were even possible in such a closely nit community. Something I am sure many people can unfortunately relate to nowadays. Once she did either realize or finally admit to herself that some of the more unpleasant parts of his double life were in fact evident. She finally did the right thing divorced him as he quickly left town for good soon after. Granted, I did have a few fond memories of dad when were were kids. From the times he took us sailing on his fried Bob’s boat to the time he took me and my brother shooting guns in the woods. None of the replace the pain I felt when he abandoned my brother and I though as he pretty much disappeared from our lives when we were around the age 7.
When I was around 20 I did some of my own research which was spurned by some coincidental encounters with people who knew my father back in the day. I have found his back story to be pretty dark. Now were not talking your typical, “Oh he we just a womanizing jerk” double life granted that was part of his tale. It was more the kind of darkness the makes even some of the more troubling Hollywood drama stories you see splashed across the movie screen look not so bad as it was filled with some pretty serious shit! All of which led to my brother and I having to be born into a pretty crappy situation to say the least. And that’s being kind…
It wasn’t until I was much older that I realized how much his past affected our childhood as it surely paved the way for all we had to endure the first couple of decades of our lives. Let’s just say his wicked ways helped inspire our community to have no problem making sure that my brother had a less than novel childhood. OK… that’s sugar coating it a bit as it was pretty fucking horrific for the most part. More so for me than my brother I believe. Yet he’s the one whose been living in an Ashram for more than a decade or so in order for him to find the peace he deserves.
Granted, although I may have taken a different path in life than my brother has, it took me a hell of a lot more work to get where I am today. With over twenty years of reflection logged to get over it, it’s been a real bitch. But hey… I’m still here! Somehow I get the feeling that he seems to have found a way to cover up his pain. Me, I chose to dig up the skeletons and put my demons to rest forever. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for some of my other childhood friends who got a taste of what our world was like along the way. I think my brother and I are the only ones who survived remotely sane… I did say remotely right?
Now I know that everyone’s life was not easy and we all have bruises. Personally, it always pissed me off when people used to say that I was one of those people who people always had to one up the other person. But lets face reality, some people have just seen more shit than others. And, when parts of your family and communities history are so bad that there’s a few books written about it and a movie based loosely on when went down. You know some serious shit went down…
Not many people would ever understand what it was like growing up in a town where their father was accused serial killer. Even though dad was exonerated of the murders many people in my community believed that he had played a role in those grisly crimes. Some even believe dad used Tony Costa as a patsy and most likely got away with murder. Even to the day he died, Tony did profess his somewhat innocents to the crimes committed as you can see by clicking here*. Apparently he was never vindicated as a few years after he was convicted of the murders he hung himself with a braided belt he never owned…hhhhmmmmm
What is not in any of the books was the allegations that there was in fact evidence that implicated dad in the murders that was deemed inadmissible by the courts. To this day I do not know if this rumor is in fact true. According to local legend the area police tried to bury the story. Let’s hear it for shoddy police work…lol
It almost worked though. That was “until the district attorney Edmund Dinis helped the case gained international attention when he made comments to the media, claiming “The hearts of each girl had been removed from the bodies and were not in the graves…Each body was cut into as many parts as there are joints.” Dinnis also claimed that there were teeth marks found on the bodies.
Needless to say, these claims produced a stream of national and international media outlets into local Provincetown, Massachusetts. The media attention was so great that Kurt Vonnegut (whose daughter Edith had met Costa) compared him to Charles Manson in his collection of essays Wampeters, Foma and Granfalloons.
Not bad for a guy who didn’t have a tool like the Internet at the time…
Apparently Costa was eventually convicted of killing four Cape Cod residents, Susan Perry, Patricia Walsh, Sydney Monzon and Mary Anna Wysocki. On February 8, 1969, while looking for the bodies of Patricia Walsh and Mary Anne Wysocki, police discovered Susan Perry. Perry had been missing since the previous Labor Day.
Perry’s body had been cut into eight pieces. When Wysocki’s body was found about a month later, her torso and head had been buried separately. Not long after, Walsh and the rest of Wysocki’s bodies were found in a field that Costa had used for growing marijuana. This “garden” of marijuana plants and the greater case inspired the book In His Garden, by Leo Damore.“Source
According to what I had dug up (I know a bad choice of words) during summers I went home while in college, it was those exact same years that dad and Tony Costa worked hand in hand to corner the local Heroin market. So it wasn’t hard for some people to take Tony’s claims that my father was involved in the murders considering that I too had accidentally heard about my fathers misdeeds at a very young age myself. According to the writings of Leo Damore, Tony was a paid police informant that snitched on local drug dealers. Of which fit the narrative I was told as it would clearly let him and dad dominate the local illegal drug market. Having a father who peddle his poison in such a small confined town while nearly decimating the lives of more than half of its inhabitants didn’t help my brother and I’s cause much either. Even as a child I was reminded of my dad’s dealing quite often from the most disturbing places. After all, where the hell are you going to hide when you live at the end of peninsula far away from the rest of the world.
It’s was so strange to sit their and listen to some of the people from P-Town when I was in my early 20’s. Having so many people tell me such interesting stories about how my dad was such a smart guy who could read by the age of 3 who aced his classes in high school without ever cracking a book intrigued me. Other times it seemed like some people worship the guy as they would go on to describe him as a very charismatic and persuasive person who could charm the pants off of you. Then, without even batting an eye change the tempo of the conversation as they bashed him in the next sentence. Calling him a two faced asshole who stabbed people in the back that loved to bounce checks or seemed to find pleasure in being ruthlessly sadistic at the drop of a dime when ever he felt the desire to do so. It was a very puzzling mix of love and hate that pretty everyone I ever talked to about my dad had.
Sadly, discovering these many versions of my fathers personality and the circumstance of his life made it clear why it was near impossible for me to find any real friends beyond my brother for well over a decade since I was born. After all, would you let you kids hang out with a father with his alleged track record and reputation? As with all children we are all to often judged and treated by the actions of those whom people associate us with regardless of our own actions or potential. So my brother and I pretty much only had each other and our imagination as companions until we were teenagers. That, and the occasional new kid in town who did not fit in with the popular one so well.
In reality, while dad remained in town we were pretty much protected. Granted were were very isolated from the rest of our world, but protected nonetheless. After all, who the hell in their right mind is going to mess with a guy who just got away with killing four people? That, and the fact that mother was a much loved and respected person in the community and a well-known victim as dear old dad’s shenanigans.
It was always hard for anyone to believe that mother never knew about dad’s double life, especially when we lived in such a small isolated town and him regularly bragging about how oblivious she was. Everyone knew about his adulterous affairs with the seasonal inhabitants, his dangerous drug dealings and love of partying hard. But, what many people fail to understand is shit like this happens all the time.
Way to many people truly believe that it’s better to let shit happen than be burdened with the pain of revealing such painful truths. I believe it’s one of our greatest downfall as a species as far as I am concerned. And, in fact be the very thing that eventually leads to our own destruction. In either case mother pretty much had the sympathy card all locked up. So, suffice it to say, with so much pent up aggression towards my father and everyone feeling so bad for my mother. My brother and I were simply seen as the spawn of Satan as we got older. So with the town so eager to treat us like we were destine for darkness, we started getting into trouble at a very young age. Of which only later led to us being the perfect targets for those who had a deep disdain for dad as we got older and boy did it rain pain.
So you can easily image how much hell we went through after our father “Cory” aka (Carl) left town. Just like I said earlier… some people are just born into shit you simply cannot even possibly imagine unless you ask. And seriously, who in their right fucking mind wants to crack open that can of worms? I lived it and I even I don’t know how to act if someone started telling a tale even remotely close to my own. You can bet your sweet ass thought that I’d be looking for the exits as I slowly inched backwards. The second someone said, “Oh yeah! And by the way, it looks like my father was a drug dealing serial killer who got away with murder, can you pass the salt?” is a sure fire way to create an instant buzz kill no matter how you try to sell it…
The sad part is, I know there are many people who have probably seen worse than I have. Still, I haven’t met any yet that have been willing to come forward and share this much information with me. Can you really blame anyone for keeping this shit locked up deep inside? Seriously, how often have you heard someone share the details of a story like this one without feeling like they are a third rate nut case. Well, pretty much never…
Strangely though, for some reason, I’ve always seem to find myself meeting people who have experienced similar events to my own dark tales. People who have somehow felt comfortable enough with me to let me in and share those little glimpses of this hidden pain they’ve been carrying around for quit a long time. The weird part is, many of them look and act completely normal and are usually the life of the party types of people. Well, the truth be told, what really is normal nowadays?
Me, I guess I’m just a special kind of stupid wrapped in pretty candy coat wrapper of what I like to call, “I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks!” Many of those who meet me often mention that I seem to give off this positive energy that makes them feel as if they can say anything to me without feeling like I’d judge them. And, they are correct in assuming that. I know I stand out where ever I seem to go because I simply love life regardless of my past and it shows. Well, that and I’m pretty to look at…lol Granted I know they are right but that’s only because once you’ve been through the kind of things I’ve experienced, you truly understand and appreciate the risk they take in sharing such things. Well, either that or these victims are just bat shit crazy people who are really good at hiding their pain while they desperately look for someone who can throw them a rope to stop them from drowning. In either case, sometimes all you need in life is a person to hear you out without freaking out to help make life feel a little less crazy.
The older I get, the more like to live on the edge and let shit fly just to see the expressions on peoples faces when I dump shit on them they would never expect to hear from someone like me. Granted it’s not always dark as the stuff I’m sharing now, but it is pretty much always real. Mostly it’s because I’m a little crazy, well that and the fact that an I’m still waiting for that one dumb ass to say, “Dude, don’t you think that’s a bit much? You’re making me feel uncomfortable!” All just so I can look him in the face and smile while saying, “Seriously genius? If your to much of a puss to and my reality makes you feel bad, image what it like living in my world you candy ass!”
What can I say, sometimes I feel like a nut, sometimes I don’t…
The one thing I will say that may surprise a great deal of people is that if was ever given the chance to change any part of my family history. I wouldn’t change a thing about it knowing what I know now. Yes, it sounds a little crazy I know but after seeing so many lost souls who chose a life a pain over absolute freedom… I’ll take the hard road any day. No matter how much money, distractions or power they try to accumulate to mask their suffering, nothing compares to the liberating feeling of knowing you don’t need any of those things to be happy.
Many of us want to be more than the worlds we came from, no matter where that is. Sometimes the bar is ridiculously low, sometimes its impossibly high. No matter where you came from or what you go through, just remember it’s exactly where it was suppose to be. The only time you really fail is if you stop trying to succeed. You can never give up or give in, if you find yourself dwelling on painful memories or experience it’s just the universe telling you that you forgot to resolve something about your past that needs to be discovered in order to move on. Nothing more, nothing less.
The more powerful the emotion, the more potent the lesson the more important it is to go back and reveal the truth you need to discover. In refusing to do so could cause you problems you ever imagined possible. Trust me when I tell you, refusing the fight may be the easy way out at first but in the end it is more often the battles you regret not fighting that hurt you than the lumps you took when you battled the beast within…
What Drives My Political Engine!
LESSON: Not all politicians start off as bad people. Sometimes they really do have the best of intentions. The problem is, power eventually corrupts which is why they limited the amount of time they would keep their jobs. Considering that is usually doesn’t take like to begin to believe that they don’t have to play by the same rules when you are the ones making them. It never takes long to become more interested in keeping your jobs rather than doing it…
If you want to create a better world, teach your children about civics while they are young. If you don’t know anything about civics, Google it and learn as you go. In doing so, you are in fact making the world a better place by this act alone. It is the most valuable knowledge any American can have.
You don’t need to be a scholar to learn it, but it is a great story to learn and tell. Click Here for a good place to start. Again… LEARN TO HAVE CONVERSATIONS WITH YOUR CHILD(REN)
I have always had an interest the world of politics since I was a child. Having my first experience with the world of politics around soon after my father left town. My interest in this field all started when dad’s mother started having me and my brother stay with her on weekends since he disappeared. Seeing as mom, like all parents, needed a break from time to time, grandma seemed to love our company quite often when we were young. It didn’t take long before she noticed that we were very much like dad which probably made her both happy and a little scared at the same time. And who could really blame her?
Maybe the reason she chose to get so involved with us kids during that time was a little because of the guilt she felt from having her own son abandon us. Or, maybe it was because of our highly inquisitive nature made it a joy for us to be around. Personally, after many years of reflection after she passed from cancer decades ago, I feel as if it was a bit of both sprinkled with a considerable amount of guilt that she had felt from neglecting to take care of her own 5 sons do to her problems with bad decisions and alcohol. In either case, I enjoyed having spent the time with her while I had the chance to.
Having such fond memories of how she always seemed to love the fact that I enjoyed asking a lot of questions about her and her political career. Especially since my brother seemed to be more interested in watching movies on TV which is probably the reason why she took such a particular shining to me (I believe she was a local Counsel Woman for many terms). Being pleasantly surprised that I was able to hold lengthy conversation with her about her role in politics, I remember how she would more often do things with me rather than both my brother and I.
She always told me stories as we’d talk politics as she tried to groom me in the art of proper edict. Always trying to help educate me, she taught funny things like how Earl Grey tea was the only tea you added milk or how to say please, thank you and excuse me when trying to address adults in social functions. She apparently became so impressed with me that I was soon began attending local political functions, fundraiser, etc. with her as she made it a point to introduce me to other local political power players. Always encouraging me to take part in the conversation and ask a lot of questions. I was like a little sponge, as are most children during that age. I still look back on those years with great fondness as I have many memories of the topic of discussion during those days.
Like all children, I also loved the attention. Considering that I was more or less seen as a little political prop who loved hearing their stories and political strategies. I soon began to interact quite well considering my age and limited vocabulary. And, judging by their reaction to my questions, they apparently saw me as future political leader with great potential and seemed to enjoy trying to groom me as such. Seeing as I was so young, and alcohol was always part of these affairs, they always appeared to find pleasure in telling me many things about the world of politics they probably thought I would soon forget. And, most likely would’ve probably wished I did if they knew how much of it I still remember and what kind of impression it made on me that still remains until this very day.
Learning about their quid pro quo world I was mesmerized by their tales of manipulation and political strategy. Every time I went to a different political function there was a different story filled with accounts of schemes and accomplishments that helped them become more powerful as they regularly bragged and laughed about how stupid voters were. With statements like, “A dead man never tells a lie, but they vote often enough,” and, “All it takes is a little truth to sell the best lies”. They always seemed to find great joy in explaining to me how important it was to be patient when dealing with a political adversary and how vital it was to appear as if they are helping or protecting the voters, especially during an election year.
The name of the game was always to make the people “believe” they are electing a person who represents them when in reality, they were just positioning themselves to have more influence ensured they would have a long and successful career in Cape Cod politics. After years of watching them work and seeing how they operated. It was quit clear that giving the voters just enough crumbs to make them think they are working hard to represent their interests was more important that doing their job to the best of their ability. These experience created the foundation for many things throughout my childhood and adult life as I am sure many of them led to the inspiration behind many of my current blog posts.
These stories helped create the very foundation my brother and I would use to draft many cartoon stories we’d draw as children which then led the way to future deep conversations about how to make a better world. My brother and I had hundreds of vision and ideas when we entered our teen years as we spent many years after that engaged in endless discussions until we were full grown adults both while being both sober and high. The one thing we’ve always had in common was our mutual desire to understand and share what we’ve learned throughout our lives.
Growing up I never understood how all my life events would fall into place until these past few years…. life can be funny like that. You never really understand why you hold onto some things until its time for you to do so I guess.
My compulsion to help others grow and see the world for what it is has been my one true constants in life. I guess I just saw the world as a giant puzzle that desired to be completed. A beautiful disaster with the potential to become a place of such beauty where everyone can find their genius or bliss not matter what world they come from. Coming from a life that was a complete mess, maybe I can help a few lost souls. After all, some of the most beautiful things can come from the ugliest of lives…
Taking A Trip On The Dark Side
LESSON: You can never run from or forget your past. It is as much a part of you as the nose on your face… that’s just life. If you don’t learn to use these past experiences you ran from to grow, they will simply catch up to you! Our past experiences have this nasty habit repeatedly reoccurring in different ways, shapes and forms until you get the point and learn the lesson they were intended to teach.
It is our job as parents to help our children learn to face their fears and learn from them. Even if it scares the crap out of us as a parent or makes us very uncomfortable. After all, we are the parent, they are the child. Part of being an fully developed adult/parent is being able to understand acting like a child darts and runs when a difficult situation arises is not an option. The problem is, many adults refuse to grow up! Besides, no one is or should ever want to take better care of your child than you and to believe otherwise can be dangerously foolish… so please….TALK TO YOUR CHILD EVERYDAY!
No matter how uncomfortable their words make you feel… it’s your job to grow-up and let them know that you will do you best to love, support and protect them no matter what they say. Put on a smile or a loving glare, when your finished give them a kiss, calmly leave and go into the next room and scream in a pillow or pull out your hair. Ironically, these are really the only times when not being 100% honest with the gravity of your/their situation is acceptable when in the presence of a child…
Many of the memories of my past are still quite vivid to this day. As anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that my ability to recall events, conversation and details from my past are eerily accurate. My wife and I calls it selective photographic memory. The only problem is, I never really had full control what my mind could recall. No matter how long I’ve tried to make it do what I wanted it to do, it always seemed to pick and choose what things would stick and which things would fall to the wayside not matter what techniques I applied to gain control of it.
For years I’ve always wondered why I or so many of us can so easily seemed to remember such things while other memories seem to just fade away over time. Unfortunately, my vivid memory was always sort of a double edged sword at times as my ability to recall/memorize such things has always been both a gift and a curse. Many times throughout my life I was actually able to use and control this gift. Sometimes I was able to easily memorize written facts, class lectures, scholarly conversations or events to help me excel academically and intellectually. Other times I would have to apply various techniques or study skills to acquire and retain knowledge.
Then, there were those times in the past where I would unwittingly find myself watching parts of my life on a giant movie screen in the back of my mind. Especially when a current situation or piece of knowledge would somehow activate the latent memory. Some were pleasant recollections of my past, others not so much.
The ones that I fear the most were the repressed memories that seemed to be triggered by some sort of relevant experience that was usually activated by a traumatic or emotionally strong situation. If I was lucky, the memory would help guide me through that part of my life. If not, well let’s just say seeing some images memories like they just happened yesterday is not always a good thing. You know, especially those images and experiences we all wish we never had. Yeah, those really suck monkey butt! Nobody likes those pesky little turd nuggets that we foolishly or subconsciously tricked ourselves into believing never happened or that we could actually just throw away or put’em behind us.
Yeah, those really bite…BIG TIME! Especially the ones that remind of how evil humanity can really be…
I would strongly suggest you skip the remainder of this chapter unless you can handle some blunt and literately graphic language! SOME PEOPLE JUST CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!!
The years of my life between the ages of 9 to 16 are by far probably the strongest motivating factors as to why I started my quest to understand both parenting, religion and politics. They are also the places in my life where the biggest gaps in my memories occur. But, I’m sure my mind will recall such past events if they are required to help me understand my present as I get stronger. When it comes to the “Book of Adam”, the one thing I’ve learned is that these memories of my past always seem to resurface when I need to learn something about my present or future. Regardless of whether or not I want them to.
Besides, the parts of my life I do remember from the later years of my childhood got really weird, I mean like seriously delusional weird…lol Even though a lot of them they were pretty fricken awesome!
To make a long story short, during these years mother, for one reason or another, decided to start having me and my brother stay at home more often. Relying more on babysitters and other families to watch us rather than go off to grandma Nora’s. Granted she may have thought she knew these people well enough to rise to the occasion. After all, living in such a small isolated town and closely knit community, who wouldn’t think such things. The only problem with this mindset is, you never really know someone as well as you think you do. And lets face it, mothers track record “thinking she really knew someone” pretty much sucked. Apparently, she clearly had a hard time learning from her past mistakes as her choice of overnight babysitters was even more nieve than her choice of husband.
Like every parent truly deserves I’m sure she thought getting some much needed relief from the daily stresses of parenting would be just swell (trust me I know what that feels like…hahha). Considering she had just gone through a divorce and was a young attractive single mom, why not? Being a teen in the 60’s and young adult in the Rock’n Roll 70’s, on top of coming from a town and time where partying hard and socializing was as common and acceptable as bell bottom pants at the time. No one thought any less of her for doing so. Besides, she thought she had the best support group in the world.
The only problem was she couldn’t be more wrong. Very few people really provided the nurturing loving environment one would hope for their children back in those days. That is unless you’re the kind of parent that hoped their house would be turned into party central with beer and drugs flowing like it was a 70’s rock concert! The harsh reality is, many parents would be in jail if they subjected their child to the socially/legally acceptable norms of child rearing that occurred quit regularly those years when compared to today modern society.
Suffice it to say, I got a crash course in partying hard at the ripe old age of around 10 and had the misfortune of being turned onto alcohol and drugs before I hit puberty. All because those older kids in charge of my care thought it would be funny to teach a child to roll a joint or drink a beer. Of which, would probably not be so bad if that was the full extent of their misgivings.
It wasn’t long before my sitters and their friend’s playful intentions went from simply teaching a child to shout catchy party phrases and fetch them beers to becoming something much darker. Apparently they were just warming me and my brother up for more seeing as they soon decided to that using us for their amusement. Turning me and my brother into living Rock’em Sock’em dolls while forcing us to become pint size little gladiators who had to fight for the right to have more TV time probably seemed like a fun idea at the time. Considering that everyone was Kung Foo fighting during that era and we seemed to enjoy being the center of attention, they probably figured, “Why the hell not!”
The problem was, we both really loved TV… A LOT! And, as those who have experience with alcohol know, you kind of lose you sense of judgement and self control when you drink. Suffice it to say, we scared the living crap out of them as we tore into and bloodied each other up more often than not. So much so that we often both got sent to bed without our promised prize.
Sadly, their twisted antics turn us into bitter rivals who openly fought epic battles both at home and on display throughout my home town. Many of which turned into stories of legend around my home town and holiday dinner tables when I got older. From hearing tales about how many seasonal tenant feared that someone was getting killed to stories about how my brother had to pulled off of me as he was chocking me until I was blue in the fact. Yes, brothers and sisters fight. It’s a reality of life, but how many kids remember having their brother jumping up and down on them until they pass out or being swung around by their hair as their sibling slammed them against the face and corners of walls? To this day I haven’t heard another person tell me how they were shot with bows and arrows, heated darts or BB guns let alone had hatchets thrown at them.
To my family, this shit was just normal childhood debauchery. Even to this day these stories a light hearted jokes to them they sit around talking and laughing about from time to time. Talk about far removes from reality! The problem was, just like with any sin though. Especially the ones that go unchecked or unchallenged. They often give you quit a rush, once you get a small taste though, it isn’t long until you find yourself raising the bar so you can get a more potent dose to get feel that stronger high.
And, as fate would have it. It didn’t take them long to want to raise the level of play in their quest for satisfying their fucked-up sadistic desire for depravity. Pretty soon after these events took place, it wasn’t long at all before they started adding prescription drugs and alcohol to the mix. After all, it seemed to be the perfect cocktail to make us completely mindless robots that gave little to no resistance to their commands no matter what they were. Allowing them and their friends to do whatever they wanted with us. As they soon thought it would be fun to turn us into sex slaves whose only purpose was to entertain them making us to have sex with each other until. That was, until they themselves wanted a piece of the action. Tragically, these kind of events and worse went of for quit sometime until I developed a tolerance to the drugs and alcohol as I started remembering some of these regular encounters.
Fortunately these things came to a sudden stop after I recalled one such experience when I was around the age of 12. I guess asking one of my babysitters why he pissed in my mouth while the other sitter made my brother suck on his zipper on the couch next to us freaked them out a lil… (PS, it wasn’t pee and my brother was not sucking on a zipper. And yes….eeeewwwww) Even to this day my brother claims to have no memories of what these babysitter did even though he remember what they made us do. He just doesn’t remember the fact that it was those older kids that him do those things to me as he feels the guilt of these acts as if they were of his own creation to this day.
A part of me can’t help but feel a little bit jealous of his selective amnesia. I just wish he forgot it all and had no memory of what they made us do to each other as I know it haunts him still. Or, that he’d at least remember that it wasn’t him that made me do those wretched things to him. We were drugged up kids, easily programed to perform. He seemed to allegedly forget and was eventually tricked into believing that I was gay and that’s just what kids were suppose to do.
Even to this day I believe this part of our past are main reason why he’s become all religious over the past decade or so. I can’t really blame him for retreating from life even though he went to the extremes of living in an ashram, completely detached from the norms of traditional reality for more than a decade. Personally, I too have wanted to give up on life and run away many times until I found someone who helped me realize that running simply is not an option. My brother and I still keep in touch though even though we don’t speak to each other for years at a time. He does appear to have finally found some peace in his Ashram/religion. I just hope it’s not just another attempt to escape from reality and pain of his past as I wish him well. He really does deserve to find it though, so don’t we all.
Regrettably, seeing as I was apparently the only one who remembered these disgusting events. It wasn’t long before they started making it their mission to cover their tracks. Having spent a great deal of time trying to convince me that it was OK for them to do what they did and that I was in fact gay, it wasn’t long before I believed them. Providing me with literature that reinforce their position they convinced me that pretty much all the “straight” guys in town were really secretly gay and that they it was OK to pretend to even like girls. All because outside of P-Town, people that were known to be gay were regularly beat up and treated like crap.
Considering that much of these realities they were selling are still pretty well-know truths and proven facts of life during that day and age (and some still hold true to this day) they had the perfect cover to support their lies. The sad truth is, the fact that I was surround by an openly gay culture just added more fuel to their fire. After all I trusted them and mom told me to do whatever they asked me to do, so why would they steer me wrong? Considering that many of the straight kids and adults that either forces or seduced me to have sex with them had girlfriends or were married themselves made their mission all to easy to complete. Besides, I really liked the drugs they gave me.
The fact that I had no real friends and very few people paid attention to me or really wanted me around made, it was easy for my predators to play on my insecurities. Especially since all of these people really liked what I did for them and pretty much tricked me into believing that it was OK to trade drugs and money for sexual favors. Besides, according to my sitters, it was my duty to please older kids. After all, some of my experiences did feel really good even though many others did not. Thus my young life was filled with the overly complex emotions of fear, pain, suffering and addiction that no child should even know about, let alone experience before they were a teen, began.
Living a life of a drug addicted child prostitute whose life of sexual servitude started around the age of 11 was filled with memories and head games I wish I could just wash away. And, although the plays may have changed over the years, the games went on until I was around 15 years old and almost killed me more often than I’d like to admit to anyone, even myself. If it weren’t for a brief moment in time during those years when I found a better, albeit temporary, substitute to help me slowly steer away from a slow coming death sentence that was heading my way. I most undoubtedly would’ve been dead far before I even thought about graduating high school let alone writing these words you see today.
Life was pretty crazy during those years to say the least. When I couldn’t find a way to get people to pay for or give me drugs. I stole the money, broke into local shops, cars, homes, etc. just to find cash or sell/trade their stuff in order to afford my next high. When I wasn’t regularly running for the small lynch mob’s that hunted/chased me down because all the towns’ kids pretty much had the green light to kick my ass on the regular, and they did quit often. I had to worry about those other older kids who were intent on chasing me down to force me to have sex with them because, well because they could.
Even to this day, when I hear these stories about kids being bullied it really pisses me off. Not because I feel sorry for these kids getting picked on (although I do feel bad. After all, I experienced it myself). It’s mostly because to me, you never really know what bullying is really like until a group of kids force you to fight another kid half your size and lose on purpose or stand there and get your ass kicked by half a dozen assholes. You here so many stories about this problem and never once are the parents held accountable for their kids misdeeds. After all, they really are the one responsible for their kids actions when it all comes down to it.
Getting picked on sucks, it really does! But what in the hell happened to our world? When being regularly bombarded by hurtful words and insult apparently causes a child to want to kill themselves, it really is beyond me how mere insults can trigger such actions. Especially when I used to look forward to those days considering the alternatives. It makes you wonder though… what else was going on this their lives that added to this end result. After all, these things really are just the last straw that breaks the camels back. So my question is, what other things were they carrying around that added to this mess which results in them feeling they have no other way out to escape their pain?
Me, if I wasn’t battling for my life against brother, I was darting through people’s yards on carefully crafted escape routes that I found which helped me elude my attackers. All while mastering my craft of thievery and deception because, although I was pretty resourceful, I wasn’t always that smart. Seeing as I was even once dumb enough to get caught hand drilling a hole in a parking meter across the street from the local police station at around 11 years old just to steal some loose change. I had many such run-ins with the law that occurred quit regularly into my teen years. And that’s just the tip of the ice burg…
Being a child so young while having the ability to lead a double and triple life only made things worse as no one ever possibly could imagine what I was doing, let alone going through. No one ever even asked me why I seemed so distant at one moment and so attentive the next. After all, no one ever really wants to know the truth when it is and uncomfortable one at that. Let alone be forces to realize that there is really that much evil in the world or that it could even exist in their own town or family.
Especially in such a small closely nit communities where you think you really know your neighbors. It really makes you wonder, how safe is anyone really? If a child can hide this much shit and crap like this can happen in such a small town where you know pretty much everyone in your community. Imagine what goes on in other places where you don’t even know your neighbors first name…
A Little Religion Can Go A Long Way
LESSON: Religion can be a wonderful tool… as long as you don’t use it as a weapon. You really have to accept the reality that it was created my humans who claim to be in touch with the divine. Of which, also means that you have to accept the reality that many people have lied and used religion to manipulate large groups of others to do some of the most monstrous and evil things know to mankind for as long as religion has been around. Unless your God, please stop telling people how they should live but feel free to share what you believe.
There are only three types of people in this world. The Student, The Lesson and The Teacher… all are necessary and equally important to this world so please stop trying to make people see things from your perspective. We were all meant to have a unique perspective and are not all meant to be the same person. We are all individuals with unique independent perspectives. Sharing is cool, cramming shit down someones throat and telling them to like it because its all good just makes you and asshole. The world already has an over abundance of those already.
Try being a curious civilized human being capable of respecting others people regardless of their perspective(s) and/or belief(s). The world is in desperate need of these types of people as there is unfortunately a huge shortage of them almost everywhere you go on this planet…
That brief moment of clarity that allowed me to find which helped me start the climb out of hell which was not of my own creation was in fact religion. Granted even though it was sadly a temporary substitute, it was a much needed break from my reality. Now I’m not condoning any particular religious ideology or saying that you need to find God, that’s simply not my place to say such things. If you were meant to find religion, it will find you.
For me, my first taste or religion came to me around my 12th birthday, during one of my regular days of partying hard, I happened to stumble across a bunch of people preaching (recruiting) for their Christian Church in front of the local Town Hall. To this day I have always (not so fondly) referred to this group of religious zealots as “Hypocrisy Chapel”. And, yes! They are still around and thriving to this day.
For one reason or another I ended up talking to one of their recruiters about Christ. During our conversation there was something about his words which made me think that maybe the lifestyle I had been living was not right…. big shocker there! Intrigued by how his words touched me (I know, funny choice of words) I eventually ended up taking him up on his offer to explore the passage in the bible as he recommended I read Isaiah 53. After I went home and read it, it changed my life after and how I looked at the world even though I needed dictionary to understand it at the time. It compelled me to come back and check out the movie he said they were showing later that evening in the auditorium of the local town hall later that evening.
It was a movie about a martial arts instructor who went down the wrong path in life. He had a charmed life until he eventually turned dark once he started drinking, fighting and doing drugs. Magically, he miraculously became a better person by simply giving his life Christ and all was well. Hurray Christ!
Looking back at how well they package finding peace, it’s no wonder so many people get sucked into such nonsense! If finding true bliss were really that simple, no one would be living in misery that’s for sure. The fact of the matter is most of us use distractions like religion to help us take our minds off of how crappy our lives are much of the time. Humanity has been using these types of psychological tools since the beginning of time as they help ease our pain and come in all shapes and sizes.
Some come in a bottle, a pill or a book. Others come in the form of a hobby, career or activity… all are only temporary fixes. Most make us feel like we are making progress in life or that if we simply just try to forget about it all, everything will be just peachy. The only things these are really good for is making us believe getting over something is as easy as putting it in our past. Like I said prior, all these are just temporary covers though. Lies we use to ourselves everything will be all right that make us feel better with our miserable realities. Especially in a world were most of us have found ourselves sacrificing our own happiness in order to survive. Well, at least for most of us anyways.
These substitutes or distractions never seem to last that long though as we often find ourselves looking for anyone or anything that can help us makes sense out of the madness that is life. Just another to short-term fix we use to help sustain us before we come down from our high as we fight feverishly to forget the lows of our life. For a child in the current state that I was in, it was quit a promising proposition. The only problem was, the church offering my fix was located miles from my hometown at the time. When I looked around and found the guy who help me realize that my life was not on the right path, I told him I wanted to learn more and attend his church service in order to do so.
When I pointed out my traveling dilemma he seemed to lose interest in me almost immediately seeing as I was pretty adamant about the fact that my mother could not accommodate the commute to their church. So he brushed me off by telling me to find a bible and contact his church when I could get my parents to bring me to their house of worship. “Gee, thanks for nothing!” Was all I could member thinking. Seeing as it was clear the guy wasn’t even listening to me anyways, considering I told him I had no father and he asked me to contact his church when my “parents” could bring me to his church. I remember thinking to myself, “what a bunch of assholes!”
Fortunately, I had access to a bible and deep down inside I knew something wasn’t right with the lifestyle I was living at the time. So, instead of always looking for another distraction or good time to keep my mind off my life, I decided to read it instead. And that’s when the truly weird shit in my life started to happen.
Being so young and having a limited vocabulary, many of the stories inside it really made no sense to me at first even though I had a dictionary handy. Granted some of them were really cool, they really didn’t provide me with any real insight. So, something inside of me made me think that it would be a good idea to ask God questions about my life and what I should do. After all, according to what I read already, God was this all knowing being in the sky who created the entire plant in a week. So asking the big guy in the sky to take a few minutes to help me along in my journey to get closer to him shouldn’t be hard for the G’mister (Sorry if people get offended my me calling God a guy, it was just that I was God was a dude).
When I started asking for guidance and randomly opened up to a page in the bible to see if it would answer it. The part that freaked me out was, it actually did? Time after time I remember repeating the process as it continued to provided me with the insight, wisdom and motivation I needed to pretty much read the book from cover to cover. And, for almost a year, I didn’t sin, do drugs or even have a violent thought in my mind. It was the first moment in my life when I felt peace and was able to avoid all the dilemmas of the past few years.
I spent weeks upon weeks and kept asking God questions as he kept giving me answers. The problem was… that’s when the really crazy dreams started happening. Each dream seemed to last a lifetime in my minds eye. From witnessing humanity create a heaven on earth to witnessing civilization implode and explode. Every dream seemed to create a different outcome. Some involved great leaps in our technological evolution that helped humanity build a utopia, others times it was this same technological leap that became the vehicle of our destruction.
Other dreams showed me visions of how humanity spiritually transcended our technological capabilities, others allowed me to witness the world come together as they united in a singular purpose to remove those small groups of people who were in intentionally holding back humanities evolution in order to satisfy their twisted sense of entitlement and addiction to control and power. All of which were very cool even though many of them didn’t end up so well for humanity or myself. Many of them revolved around the God telling me I was the second coming of Christ. Put here to experience and endure all the sins known to mankind so I could help save the world. Yay me!
Yes, I was that kind of screwed up! I even remember freaking out my mom and family for a little bit during that year as I found myself quoting passages of bible more often than not. Sadly, as much as my religious antics made my family a little uncomfortable for that brief moment in time. I am sure they would’ve preferred me to stick with religion if they known the real world I was I was really getting involved in around these days of my life.
Although now I’m pretty sure it was just my mind playing tricks on me in order to protect me so I could deal with my current horrible circumstances. I spent a great deal of time feeling pretty good about my delusion. After all, the fantasy really was better than my reality at the time and I wasn’t hurting anyone, nor myself.
Looking back on that brief moment in my history where life had turned from complete shit to a palatable paradise I understand many things about that experience that are quite profound.
First, Christ never said that he was in fact Christ, although he did say that he was the way. You know, do as I do.
Second, how easy it is to take a religious book like the bible and break it down into tiny separate parts. In doing so, you can pretty much twist it to support or say whatever it is you want others to believe it says. Of which, clearly explains why the top 3 religions of the world have splintered into many different smaller sub-sections of their primary belief structure.
Third, I am not the second coming of Christ…lol. Besides, who the hell would want that job anyways. After all, it didn’t work out so well for the last guy who had it now did it…
Between my early interest in politics and new found love or religion it really just makes sense when I had all those way cool and nutty dreams for so many years after my little religious experience. The fact is, they most likely fuel my life long interest in the things I blog about and why I enjoy spending amply time learning, writing and talking about when it comes to life, human nature, parenting, politics and religion, etc, etc.
Many of the memories about these dreams are still quite vivid to this day and would make for great fantasy fiction. Seeing as if it always felt like I lived dozens of lifetimes while I slumbered, sometimes I wonder if that’s the reason why I know so much. Having witnessed both the creation of both heaven and hell on earth behind closed eyes, my mind wove some of the most amazing stories and I always planned to put a bunch them to paper some day anyways.
The weird part is, as I got older. Many of the things I saw actually had and are actually happening. And… NO! I’m not prophetic. The reality is many of these types of dreams and fantasies become reality all the time and its not as uncommon as one would think. After all, almost every futuristic vision, movie, book and science fiction story has been the byproduct of someones fantasy and dreams. So no, I still don’t think I’m Jesus…hahaha
What stands out most to this day is that some people truly do need religion! After all, it can be a very valuable support mechanism capable of carrying people through some of the darkest moments of their lives. It’s better than shooting shit up into their veins or turning individuals, groups or entire societies into their own personal toys. Just to satisfy or support some twisted false sense of security or personal happiness as these people are usually just desperately trying to take control over their reality.
All of which only serves to provide a temporary fix that helps them fight off the beast of depression that kills more people than anyone would ever admit. Just another momentary bliss that always leaves one craving a more potent does to cover up pain. Just because it’s seems easier to run from our fear and foolishly refuse do the work necessary to help us defeat the demons of our past. We handicap ourselves and never learn how to take a stand and fight, especially when it’s almost always easier to flee. In a world so fixated on chemical addictions we’ve failed to notice that the most dangerous ones don’t come in the form of a drug or a pill. They come in the form of thought or belief…
Like I said early though, refusing to learn the lessons we need in order to actually heal the way nature intended and can have some very dangerous after effects. Many of which usually don’t kick us in the ass until many years after they surface. We use so many different methods to help us take our minds off of or avoid reality nowadays its really is scary. Considering that such things really are simply just another form of drug or temporary crutch that we foolishly use to help keep our heads above water so we can keep going.
No matter how many times we seem to jump from one drug or distraction to the next all to try an avoid facing our pain, I never understood why people continue to rely on them so often. After all, none of them were ever intended to be permanent solutions to our woes. Yet a vast majority of humanity still refuses to accept this reality while calling all those who try to heal the way nature intended crazy … it really makes me weep for humanity sometimes. What a bunch of dumb asses!
Do I have faith, yup! Do I believe in God? Of course I do, but I don’t conform to the traditional sense of God as I will talk about this perspective and my many theories about the “G” mister in several of my blog posts. The one thing I will however do is never tell anyone what to believe in as I truly do pity those who feel as if they have the right to piss on another persons support mechanism. As long as they aren’t hurting anyone, why should it really to you what anyone else thinks? The way I look at it, if any religious belief tells you that you need to hurt or kill someone, maybe you should start with yourself and see how that works our for you!
Some people are just to ignorant and childish to realize attacking someones religion is disgusting. After all, these jack knockers very well be destroying the only thing these people may have left in their lives which is helping hold on to whatever is left of their sanity. That one thing they have left which is keeping them from losing their shit or having a serious psychotic break. The bottom line is, if your that arrogant self-righteous prick, you aren’t doing anyone any favors by trying to destroy or make fun of someone else’s faith. You’re just a miserable asshole who is more lost than a person who believes in an imaginary guy in the sky as far as I am concerned.
Ironically, who do you think is better off in life? The bible thumping, overzealous religious type who needs to believe in something beyond themselves to deal with pain or the out of control asshole or junkie? Marinate on that the next time you try to criticize someone who believes in a higher power or lives in a fantasy world. After all, sometimes their reality really is so bad that they need to take a break from it. Way to many people get used to telling themselves or others little lies just to stand out or make themselves feel better about how boring they think their lives are. The problem is this pattern usually does nothing but grow overtime. It’s kind of sad, but I get it. We’ve all been well trained to believe that unless we are the center of attention, we aren’t really that important even though this is probably the worst lie society tells us…
No matter how you slice it though, some people really do need to make up some seriously crazy messed up shit. Some of us need to lie to ourselves in order to hide from life for a little while until they find the strength they need to fight for their sanity. Others simply don’t have a choice because their mind does it for them without them knowing about it.
The bottom line is no matter who you are pretty every human being uses such things to help us take a break from reality from time to time whether you realize it or not. Sometimes a little dose, drink or distraction will do ya, other times it won’t even make a dent. Unless you’re strong enough to deal with life and pain the way nature intended, you really have no place judging others or criticizing what other people should or shouldn’t believe. If you really feel as if you are so benevolent and self-righteous that you have the right or authority to do so. You really are a nuts and are probably in need of more help than the people you lash out at, you’re just better at hiding from the world and yourself than these people are.
Just When You Think You’re In The Clear
LESSON: Just because you clear a hurdle in life doesn’t mean you should stop running. Your past has a tenancy to catch up to you and force you to face it no matter how over you think you are or how far in your past it is. The longer you run, the more momentum it gets. If you run from it long enough and try to go around the hurdles you were meant to go over, when it catches up to you it can do more than run you down… it could kill you!
Every bad memory and experience is a tool. We can either use them to learn try understand why they linger or resurface or be condemned to repeat them as they resurface in our thoughts and lives for a reason. The faster you find the reason and learn the lesson, the faster you heal and grow, the stronger you get.
The more you avoid trying to learn the lesson these things intended to teach you, the weaker you get. The weaker you get, the harder it becomes to find out what you need to be doing to find any lasting peace, the more lost and depressed you will eventually come. Especially when the distractions you find in life can no longer mask the emptiness growing inside … life really is that simple! We just make it complicated… Sorry…this is a long ass chapter!
Unfortunately the fast train ride to salvation through Christianity in my life didn’t last long. Seeing as I had several more stops along the path of insanity until I found true peace. One of the stops led me to an old friend of my dear old dad who thought it would be a great idea to introduce me to someone I wish I never met, her name was “Cocaine” (a.k.a.. Coke) .
There I was, having finally found some sort of stability believing in an imaginary guy in the sky and these two assholes had to come along and fuck my shit all up six ways from Sunday! The next few years of my life after getting to know these two were so bad I can’t even get into the details concerning this part of my life because it is too dark to even mention. All I can say is that those years were a mixture of foggy memories and images I wish I could just throw away.
The weirdest part is, I didn’t even remember what went on in school for much of my academic career prior to those years. Seeing as cocaine doesn’t make one a drugged out mindless zombie who can’t remember when they took their last step. I was in for quit a treat now that I was now more aware of my surroundings, (insert sarcasm here). Unfortunately though, I no longer had the luxury of not remembering what transpired during these years of my life.
The only thing positive about this time in my life I could remember was that this newly found addiction provided me with a sense of clarity I never really experienced before. The problem was the price I had to pay was considerably high and not really worth it in the end. It really sucked! Especially considering the fact that unless I was high on Cocaine, school was a fricken nightmare otherwise.
The biggest problem with this drug is unless you are high, you are immeasurably low and more depressed then anyone could possibly imagine otherwise. It tricks you at first though. As this seductive powders bad after effects really weren’t noticeable at first. But, in no time at all these powerfully negative emotions and feelings begin to take over and spin your life drastically out of control. That is, unless you can find more cocaine or another distraction to appease the beast. And fathers dear old friend Bob was more than willing to supply me with limitless access to Coke as long as I would let him have sex with me. He even gave me little glass tubes filled with this powder. Teaching me how to use the little spoon it came with to take little “bumps” that helped me maintain a nice high throughout the day was sssoooooo helpful.
It’s sad to say that Bob was apparently much better at teaching me lessons that took than my teachers ever did for many years. Under the influence of Coke I was more aware of my surroundings as I soon began to realize that many of my teachers loved treating me like crap. At first I thought is was because I pretty much didn’t understand anything they were teaching until then, even though I really tried to learn from that point on. It was a little to late though as was drastically behind the curve because of my circumstances…big shocker their!
Besides, some of classroom dictators seemed sadistically intent on using me as an example of how a student should not to be. While others made me feel as if no matter what I did I was going to end up a criminal, as I was always seen as my father’s son which was a just such a real hoot… Suddenly began to realize why I enjoyed being in such a fog and all drugged up most of the time.
When I was high, their world and the way most of these people from my home town treated me didn’t hurt so much. Coke did however make me more aware, but it also made me emotionally bullet proof and eager to learn just about anything. Unlike pot, alcohol and pills as they made me too dumb to realize I was even their as I pretty much refused to participate in anything they had to offer when I used them.
Waking up to realities, Coke made is seem that it was OK that I pretty much had no real friends accept for my brother (and his friends) when he wasn’t kicking my ass. Well, accept for all those “friends” that always seemed to magically appeared when I got more drugs. At least for a while anyways. After all, drugs seemed to make everything feel better for the time being. The problem was, as with all things we use outside of ourselves we use to cope with reality, they eventually begin to do anything but help…
Sadly, for many years after finding Coke, the only kids that wanted to hang around with me were usually from the families that moved to my home town from elsewhere. Some of the people I met through my brother were really nice though. Seeing as took a different direction in life after the babysitter abuse stopped, he always seemed to be the goody two shoe while I always ended up wearing the Black Sheep hat well into my college years. Other kids I met and befriended were usually because of all the drugs or cash I always seemed to have access to from my dark dealing. -Having lived a double and triple life for so long it’s hard to remember who really was my friend?
Even to this day I really only talk to one of those friends from this time in my life, and even the I met her through my brother. Like most people I keep tabs on them with thanks to Facebook but I’ve really only been in contact with so very few and really only those that I remember having some good times and fond memories with. It really wasn’t entirely like I had no childhood at all, so I guess I can’t complain all that much. Looking back it’s just so hard to fathom how many different lives I led and how they never really collided into one another.
There was always drama in my hometown though and many of the people I knew had their own dark secrets as well, it just seemed to be norm for those who grew up in P-Town. Granted, not all there stories were as dark as mine, some of them were pretty close. Others were probably even worse for all I know. My heart still aches for my dear old friend Axel. He was one of the only kids I knew growing up that had endured some of the same regular abuse as I did for years until we were teens. He never really made peace with his past though as he overdosed on died on heroin around May of 2013. He’s a huge part of why I decided to write this book. A part of me still wishes I could’ve done more for him…
My heart tells me there are way too many Axels out there. Some people can find healthy ways to cope, many cannot and we all deserve the right to heal. My wife believes my story can help others do just that, it just took her only a little over a decade to convince me that in order for me to heal, I at least need to try help others do the same.
Every word I write is like I removed another pebble from this bag of rotten crap I’ve been carrying around for decades. As it gets lighter I just seem to feel better. Just like all those other people in the world who never actually learn how to cut this baggage loose, we all seem to find these distractions in life that help serve as temporary relief mechanisms. Tools and devices we use to provide us with the perfect cover that makes it near impossible for others to know how much pain we carry. They never seem to last that long though. My dear lost friend is clear proof of this reality. And, it pains me to admit, there are so many more people out there just like him…
1972 to 2013
In a world so focused on the sea of limitless distractions now available to us, we individuals rarely see what is going on in the lives of other people unless it effects us directly. Or, unless that person is one of the distractions we use. I just finally found a way to actually heal, not just make myself feel better or make it a little easier to carry all this crap around with me for a little while longer. The past really is never in the past, it is a building block that support our present and future self. If you build upon a foundation made up of poo, your whole house will eventually start to stink no matter what you do to prevent the odor from spreading everywhere…
There is so many ignorant people in the world that think they really know people it’s scary. It’s not scary because they think they have it figured out, it’s scary because these people are usually the ones force their opinions on the world even though they a pretty much no experience with the topics they claim to be authorities on. To this day a part of me still laughs at people who say, “Oh, you better watch out because you just can’t trust those gay people will little kids”. Me, I just want to slap them in the face when I hear such ignorance and say to them, “Fuck You!” “It’s not the homosexuals you should be worried about, it’s the people who are pretending to be straight you need to be concerned with and good luck outing them!”
Very few people understand the reality of this disease called Pedophilia. I really don’t are how many letters you have behind your name or how many psychological papers you’ve read or wrote. Unless you’ve danced with the devil, you’ll never know or understand his moves or motivation. Very few people can even grasp the fact that many of these monsters are usually well to do, respected and admired members of their community. The sad truth is, out of all the many men who molested or raped me as a child… only one of them was openly gay!
If you want to know the most eerie part about enduring what I had gone through. It’s the fact that when you are subjected to this kind of abuse, or any abuse or addiction for an extend period of time, you kind of get a sense for the types of people who partake in such things. Out of all the lost souls I’ve talked to who endure similar painful experiences as mine almost all of them agree with this. Maybe its our minds natural defenses kicking in to try to help protect us or maybe we just become paranoid. The reality is, unless you become strong enough to start asking yourself why this shit happens or happened to you and how these things have shaped your life and try to learn from them. They really can fuck you up down the road!
IF YOU DON’T WANT A LOOK INTO THE MIND OF A PEDOPHILE AND MY THEORY AS TO WHAT CAUSES THIS DISEASE TO FLOURISH OR THE MINDSET OF THEIR VICTIM…
SKIP THIS PART UNTIL YOU SEE ALL CAPS AGAIN!
Some people become the monster that they once feared and hated in an attempt to validate or justify the abuse they suffered. Many victims try to bury such experiences and pain deep down inside. Pretending like these things do not influence who they are now and the decisions they make throughout their lives. This denial only work for so long though. The toughest part is, these predators really are everywhere and are more common amongst those with means than those who have very little. So you really can’t blame many of these types of people from acting the way they do. They are lost souls with no one to turn to, no one has the answers and many of the victims are just barely holding on.
Many people never realize that many of these victims become monsters. People who are so desperate to recapture the innocence that was once taken from them any way they can, that they are willing to destroy another innocent child’s life. Just to get a small taste of what is was like to be young again. Even if it’s just temporary fix, even if it compels them to abuse over and over again.
It really is quit a twisted paradox society has created. One that actually creates the perfect feeding ground which allows these seriously messed up people to flourish. Companies convince us that we need shit we can’t afford to be happy. Parents begin to believe the BS and try to show kids we love them by buying them the stuff these companies sell. After all, what parent doesn’t want their kid to be happy so we in turn give them whatever they want.
Kids soon start to believe the BS while parents chose to ignore the fact that all a child really wants more than anything is to spend time actually doing things with their parents. Parents now have to spend all there time working and away from their kids and family so they can afford to buy their family the stuff they want. Then, after their kids are all grown up, all they do is look back and wish they could’ve afforded to spend more time with them when they were young. Seriously, are we really this stupid?
If this paradox didn’t makes it easy for one of these monsters to come in and seduce a child. Especially when most children rarely see their parent(s) who are usually slaving away to survive and more often than not can’t even afford to spend any money on them. Child molesters and pedophiles wouldn’t be able to do what they do, as often as they do. The truth there isn’t a child on this planet who hasn’t felt the hard sting of being judged based upon what their parents couldn’t afford to buy them. And, all of this crap creates a recipe for disaster for those children who are unfortunate enough to come across a predator who likes them and can afford to make them feel special by buying them shit.
Tragically, there are more than enough poor kids in this world looking for that missing parental figure they always wanted to buy them the crap they never had. Shit, even most adults are looking for that same figure…
It’s really is a cancerous problem that has been slowly spreading across our world and has gotten a lot larger than anyone could possibly image. As fate would have it, the world is slowly starting to wake up the fact that we have many pedophiles are in powerfully scary places. In countries where legislatures try to draft laws that allow adults to have sex with young teens and people getting just slaps on the wrist for raping kids by claiming they there urge to defile children is a disability. It all just sounds like crazy talk I know, but all you have to do is look around and do a little research. It won’t take long to see that this madness has already begun especially with the over sexualization of today’s youth…
REGARDLESS OF HOW ABUSED I WAS WHEN I WAS YOUNG, considering the fact that I had no idea what was happening to me was wrong. What really hurt me the most up until I was 15 was waking up from my drug filled haze. After realizing that I had spent nearly my entire academic career up until that point being “passed” from grade to grade because I did little work. Hell, I didn’t even noticed I was diagnosed with a “learning disability” until then. It was a very surreal feeling to say the least, kind of like I had just awoke from a bad dream.
Suffice it to say, who could really blame the teacher’s from doings so. Especially considering that no one could possibly have guessed that a child of my age could actually have had a problem with drugs. To them, I was just a problem child as there was no such thing as ADD or ADHD back in those years. So I guess categorizing me with some lame learning disability was understandable and seemed logical to them at the time. Even to this day they don’t even really have a diagnosis for my rare form of dyslexia that I know of so I call it “Structural Dyslexia”.
Unlike traditional Dyslexia, where some letters appear backwards or out of place which cause some kids to have problems reading. My weird affliction allows me to read fine. It’s just that I had a very hard time trying to explain what it was I had read in written form really hard. You see, with my stigma the problem was that my sentences and paragraphs were usually written in reverse order. Almost as if my mind would thinking backwards when I tried to write. Talk about weird!
It probably didn’t help that I had very little to no grammar skills, and, with my condition I would read and write words just fine.
My stigma only seemed to succeed in making both me and the teachers very frustrated. Especially when they persisted in telling me and my mom that I couldn’t grasp the material when I knew I did. Talk about annoying! So we clearly butted heads quite often both before and after the age of 15 until I figured out how to adapt to the standard teaching style they were taught to use. It always made me wonder though… How many other kids out there have this very problem? How many children get brushed aside and lost in the cracks because school regularly try to get children to conform to them them when in reality, it is the schools that need to conform to the students! Sadly, the stigma comes back from time to time when I’m overly stressed or tired though and it can be a real pain in the assets so to speak. And I think is safe to say I had a lot of both for many of my young years. For this reason alone I have always had to work harder and more diligently when editing my written. Its a real pain in the assets seeing as I usually have to go over my work several times just to catch my errors. Ironically, when I do this, the repetitive nature of my efforts only seems to increase my ability to absorb the material as I got older.
In all actuality, this affliction has come about more often now because my little love monsters take quit a bit of my energy and focus as they suck the life out of me while I try to write. It makes editing my work very time consuming to say the least. But I’m learning to love every minute of it. After all, these years slip by so fast. It won’t be long before I’ll begin to miss the things that once annoyed me…
This mini-book alone would’ve taken me less than a week to complete before I had kids, it’s been well over a 6 months now since I started writing and I’m not even close to done… what the frick! I wouldn’t change a thing though as they pretty much get my attention whenever they ask for it.
So just get to take about 15 to 20 unscheduled breaks a day…lol If I didn’t love playing with them and helping them understand how we need to treat one another so much as they climb all over me pretty much every day… and I mean that literally because that’s no joke…hahaha. I probably would’ve gone nuts a long time ago. So please forgive me if I miss a couple examples of what I am talking when it happens. Sorry, I just can’t afford a full time editor … 🙂
Regardless of not being aware of my true disability at the time, I was quit good a somehow keeping it together even though some parts of my life clearly suffered. Having applied many of the technique’s everyone taught me to maintained my cover and my sanity, I was still able to keep my illusion/delusion together. The only problem was, that sinking feel I got when I was 12 when I first began to realize that things just weren’t right. Well, they started to come back and just wouldn’t go away… Some light came into my life again. And, this time. It was not in the form or religion or an epiphany. At some point around my 15h birthday I guess I finally got tired of my regular run-ins with the police, growing social problems, etc.
Who knows, maybe it was the humiliating experience of ending my middle school career with the teachers putting me, and a few other misfits, into a class called “Non-Graded”. Maybe it was having to deal with the embarrassment of have my school immortalize my stupidity my high school yearbook that was the last straw. Being isolated in a isolated town, isolated from the rest of the world was hard enough. For crying out loud, my town was so freakin small the average graduating class was only about 30 kids a year from what I can remember.
So like my brother before me I decided to get a fresh start and take my drug addicted butt to a vocational high school once I graduated from the ungraded class. Granted, it was almost an hour and a half bus ride away, but the chance for me to get away from that town and reinvent myself was too appealing to pass up. Just like so many millions of people around the world who foolishly believe that changing their environment would make life better. I too had the chance to try and start life anew. Tragically, this was also around the time that I first learned that running from your problems and trying to put them behind you doesn’t work.
After spending my first year in a new school, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was going nowhere fast. I was able to change my environment, I just wasn’t aware of the fact that if you don’t change yourself first your problems were not going to go anywhere. In all actuality they will just most likely get worse. Relocating schools was not all I had imagined as my laundry list of horrific experiences seemed to grow.
Apparently, even in a school that housed student from all over Cape Cod, everyone new my hometowns stigma. I just never realized that coming from a town like P-Town automatically made you gay, especially since I had always been quite good a convincing so many other kids I was straight and was never really picked on for “being gay”. None of that mattered though here. No matter how good I was at convincing those in my own neighborhood I was straight, according to everyone at this new school, I was gay because I came from a “Gay Town”. And these kids were brutal as all my dreams of starting a new life with a clean slate without any stigma’s leering over my head were quickly squashed… Once again, one of the only ways I was able to make friends was by offering to smoke some pot with some of the kids from school or selling drugs at a discount which only seemed to make matters worse.
As my first year in a new school was winding down shit really hit the fan just before the “Summer of Hell” approached. Who would thought that so much crap could happen in just over three months’ time. Considering my past, I probably should’ve know better. Just before summer started, only days before my 16th birthday I discovered I wasn’t gay in the most horrible way possible. Even now after so many years its still hard for me to even figure out how to say it, let alone type the words I need to explain the fact that I had to get drugged and raped by a woman in order to find out I was straight.
The experience completely shattered my life. Losing my virginity in the most horrible of ways forced me to look back at all those times I let the men do those things to me in disgust. And, all those times I did not yet they still persisted. I suddenly didn’t know what was real and fake at that moment. Having never enjoyed sex so much, I couldn’t understand how someone who was gay could actually immediately feel themselves preferring the touch the opposite sex. After all, I trusted those that told me I was gay. I truly believed I was just another closet homosexual who played the game. My mind at first went numb, than it began to explode with confusion, disgust, anger and rage. I couldn’t control my emotions for the next few weeks as they were all over the place and none of them were happy thoughts…
No amount of drugs worked to suppress them no matter how many I did. No matter what I tried I could no longer cover the pain of my confusion, frustration of having lived a lie for so long. So, I soon became very angry and violent toward gay men once my summer officially started. Once school let out I started getting into fights with pretty much anyone that was gay whenever a homo looked at me funny. The problem, I was a pretty young thing so they almost always looked at me. So I sometime brought a posse with me in case one of my on lookers had friends as I started acted like bait just to so we could start a fight.
Eventually my antics landed me and a few townies in court after finally getting caught on my little “fag bashing spree”. I’m glad I got caught so early into the summer when I did. Especially because out of all my antics I was a part of when I was young, this is probably one of those moments in my life that I am the least pleased with. Besides, it really didn’t do much to appease this growing sense of disgust building in my life at this time.
When that did seem to work to help me get over my pain, I started sleeping with random women, partying hard and doing some hardcore drugs as I was a complete mess of a man. Willing to do anything and everything I could to try and ignore having to deal with my past. All those years of being manipulated was so devastating that I eventually broke down and became so depressed I tried to commit suicide by the end of that summer because I couldn’t cope. I trusted no one and felt so alone I just didn’t think my life was worth living at that time.
Ironically, if it weren’t for my impressively high tolerance to prescription drugs I wouldn’t even be here to write these words. Even to this day my tolerance for prescription pain or sleeping pills is off the charts as I look often look like a junkie when I ask for a higher dose because they have little effect. It’s all good though, seeing as I often have horrible nightmares when I take such things before bed I really hate the damn things. Big shocker there! Heaven forbid I ever need long-term pain management, you bet your ass I’d move to a state that offered Medical Marijuana if I didn’t live in one that did already. Some people are just so ignorant to criticize those who use a plant to deal with pain are bad. Yet they never even stop to think that maybe for some people, like myself, pill are by far a much worse option.
Out of that entire summer from hell the only thing positive that came of it at the time was the fact that I no longer prostituted myself for drugs. Unfortunately I now had to deal drugs on a much larger scale to afford my addiction. And petty thievery wasn’t going to cut it with all the shit I was pumping into my body. I’m really surprised I somehow survived the most self-destructive summer of my entire life. OK…well many that’s two positive things that came out of that summer.
The party didn’t stop there either. Having spent the weekend before my sophomore year school tripping balls after a two day Grateful Dead concert in Providence, RI, I was still completely out of control. Attending my first day school while still tripping on 7 hits of LSD I had taken the day before. My brother and I went straight to school while I was still as high as a kite with a pocket full of drugs just waiting to be sold. Only to get my dumb ass caught selling acid in school 3 days into the beginning of the year school which landed me in jail. Ahhhh… It was so much fun being me during those years…NOT!
We All Have Those Dare To Be Great Moments…
LESSON: No matter how much shit life throws at you, you’ll always get the chance to be great! Sometimes it requires us to make those uncomfortable choices, make a sacrifice or take a chance or risk. You may even have a good chance of getting burned or fall flat on your face. No matter what, we need to at least try as you never really fail in life… you just learn how to not do sometime!
We all have those times in our life when we are blesses with the opportunity to take a seriously crappy situation and turn it into something wonderful. Mine was getting caught selling drugs after the summer from hell!
I’ll never forget the day I had to sit down with my High School administrators as my mom as I were given a choice of having me either go back to my old hometown high school in P-Town like nothing happened or remain at Cape Cod Tech (CCT). Of course if I had chosen to stay enrolled at CCT I’d have have to spend 30 days in an outward-bound drug rehabilitation program, repeat my freshman year and get counseling.
Right off the bat I remember my mother agreeing to the terms. The problem was, according to Massachusetts state law, when a child is 16 they can legally chose to quite school even without parental consent. So as much as mom was all on board with me going to detox, I actually had the final say. Anyone who has any experience with these situations knows that these sort of offers usually come with intent of getting rid of a problem. And I was the problem. After all, who could possibly assume that a kid with my attitude, which stank to high hell, would’ve not chosen the easy way out.
Even from the moment I was asked to come the principles office and was told a students got caught taking acid in school sold me out as well as everyone I sold acid to that day. I was emotionless and as cold as ice as I laughed and said, “Well that makes your day easier now doesn’t it!” Showing a clear lack for authority or even caring for anyone including myself.
I’m pretty sure I sealed my fate when the only thing I could do as they paraded all the kids I sold LSD to that day was light a joint up after they all passed the glass wall in front of the room I was sealed up in. Yeah, I was real a Bad(Dumb)ass…lol The funny part was they never even noticed. Well, at least until the cops came in the room to bring me jail and the room stank to high hell of pot! So to them, it had appeared that I would most undoubtedly take the easy road out. Can anyone really blame them after how I handled the whole ordeal?
The problem was it was all a front. They really had no clue what kind of world I came from or that I was just a desperate lost little boy. A child who was at the end of his rope with no way to deal with a past that was so hideous that none of them could’ve ever even image possible. Even in their worst nightmares. To me it really was a no-brainer for going back to P-Town would’ve most likely been a death sentence…
Once I elected to stay and go to detox opposed to going back to my old school like nothing happened… it looked like they took a dump in their pant. To this day the image of their jaws dropping still sticks in the back of my mind. I’ve never been so happy to disappoint a group of people in my entire life!
So I got a 30+ day vacation before rehab started so I did some soul searching. It was a pretty interesting time in my life between the suspension and rehab to say the least. Hanging out with brother and his friends, I had a pretty good time hanging out with my brother and some of his friends for a while. All until that one night when my brother, for no real reason at all, decided to tell mom he was tripping on acid after we and a couple of his friends dropped the last of the LSD I had from the concert. After that, I was on complete lock down…
Under lock down, I was actually able to do some reading and even started writing a little bit which was when I noticed my written words didn’t seem to make much sense. When mom dropped me off at the outward bound detox program in New Hampshire they immediately started counseling during my intake process and I had a ton of questions. It wasn’t long before I realized that I never really had a problem learning or reading. My problem was that I just couldn’t learn by the standard methods of teaching available at that time.
After having so much time on my hands to read in between mountain climbing, overnight hikes, camping trips, etc. The counselors told me they would help me me overcome my disability while telling those back at school to help me overcome my problem. Armed with some hope, I actually found myself excited at the proposition of going to school for the first time I could remember.
My 30 day detox experience seemed to last forever as it noticeably make me stronger while I seemed to transform into a more focused individual with purpose. As each day passed, I became more aggressive than the other kids in my circle of detox druggies I was grouped with. I pushed myself harder than anyone else did, studied the literature/lessons they preached more intensely and committed myself to their teaching unlike any other addict in the past according to my counselors.
Regardless of the fact that I sensed the bullshit was strong in these guys. Even though their words seemed like many of the great pitches I’ve heard before in the past to help me feel like I was special. I took a leap of faith. This time it was different though. Maybe it was my body detoxing from the all drugs I had in my system or maybe it was me finally being in an environment where I could talk and open up about the parts of my past. All I started to spill some of those dark secret I kept hidden from the rest of the world, I just felt lighter.
Being surrounded by people like me who were trying to overcome the pains of their past was invigorating. The only problem was, I noticed the other guys in my group getting jealous of how fast I was excelling in all that I did compared to them. Apparently my open minded attitude and willingness to always volunteer to take the first step when asked was seen as me being an ass kisser. Big surprise … a bunch of drug addicts with esteem issues…lol What are the odds? (insert sarcasm here).
What really reinforced the fact that maybe the counselors there weren’t blowing smoke up my ass and telling me it was all rainbows and sunshine was the last day of my detox program? Before we completed our final requirement to graduate from the program, we had to complete a 10K foot race. On that last day before the race the counselors had a sit-down with all of us to thank us for completing the program. Once the dispatched with the pleasantries, they were blunt and to the point. Which probably left a lasting impression seeing as, if you met me, you’ll probably notice that I quit blunt myself if you couldn’t tell my by writing style.
Looking at us standing around in a circle the counselor said, “Now, forget everything we told you here at detox.” “There are no tricks to sobriety other than the fact that we provided you with the tool. Unless you have the strength and the will to overcome your desire to do drugs again, you will fail.” Noticing that many of the other druggies weren’t all to please with what he said. The guy really nailed the point across when he said, “It all falls on your shoulder and even though you can find plenty of support groups, sponsors and materials to help you out, it has been and always will be up to you and only you to do what you have to so you don’t fall back into the world you know will someday will destroy you, the ones you love and will eventually kill you.” “It’s all up to you!”
The group of guys in my program apparently didn’t get the memo though. For some reason or another after the counselor left to make the final preparations for the race the guys in the group decided to that we would cross the finish line as group and to show solidarity. When I tried to point out the irony as to how that kind of contradicted what the counselor just said, they scoffed at me and agreed to run together. I just shook my head in disbelief…
Me, I was like, “Fuck You! I’m here for myself!” Of course, I said this in my head. From that point forward I wasn’t going to rely on God, a sponsor or a stupid 12 step program to help me succeed… So I politely declined their unity proposal and tried to explain that what the counselor just said more clearly. They just couldn’t get the point he was trying to make. The reality of our situation was none of us was really going to be able to be there for each other all the time.
No friend, no sponsor and no program could possibly be there for anyone 100% of the time if we felt like we were falling off the sobriety wagon. That’s just life! I remember saying, “If I hold myself back now at this stage in my life I will not beat this thing. None of us will!” No matter what I said, they just didn’t want to listen. Granted I understood where they came from considering that a bulk of the exercises in our program were group activities and trust exercises. My perspective and understanding was just a little different, I just thought they were to teach us to trust ourselves and learn to ask for help when it was available. In reality, when I trusted the words of others over those tiny voices we all have in our heads saying, “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea” was pretty much the reason why my life fell into chaos more often than not.
Our counselors words made perfects sense considering the fact that people didn’t have cellphones or Internet back then (Yes, how did any of us survive before this tech..hahaha). We were all from different parts of New England and meetings/sponsors are never always available when you need them. That’s life! It was cleat that either they could or refused to understand that creating a false illusion that was completely different than reality was not smart in lieu of our situation. And, I knew what the fuck I was talking about! Especially seeing as I did that my whole life at that point and look at where it landed me. So I said thanks, but no thanks and that I was in it to win it while giving it my all to cross the finish line as close to first as I could. Needless to say, they weren’t really happy with my perspective but I had to do what was right for me at that time regardless of what they thought.
That’s when the mocking began as they scoffed at me and told me that I would come in last place because no one has ever outpaced a counselor. They even went so far as to say that its part of the program to make sure that we never beat the counselor. All because it was part of the program to help teach us that we must always remember that we need to follow the examples of those who have led the way to sobriety and learn to accept a higher power, God and all that BS. After all, it did make sense seeing as these guys have been part of the program for years and have probably ran dozens of these races so how could the lose?
I recall thinking to myself at that very moment, “I really don’t care what their fucking plan is, I have my own and it doesn’t include giving a half asses effort or relying on some program or imaginary guy in the sky to help me out”. After all, I didn’t really put much stock in God at that time. Besides, even the bible said, “God helps those who help themselves.” To me, this was the universe testing me to see if I had the will to persevere and take advantage of the opportunity to become the man I was meant to me. There was not fucking way in hell I was going to let this chance slip away. After all, you never know if your going to get a second chance in life and I wasn’t letting anything get in my way this time…!
No matter what they said, I knew that no one was going to ever see my life the way I did or know my struggles. For me to rely something outside of myself was one of the most ignorant things I’ve ever heard anyone say know what I knew about relying on such things. Considering the fact that we were in detox to begin with because we foolishly relied on drugs to coop in the first place, I found their argument a little stinky.
So the second we began the race I made it a point to sprite just enough to get a comfortable lead even though the told us to pace ourselves. As I ran, I drifted of in thought and focuses on what I planned to achieve when I got home and back to school. Lost in my mind I don’t really remember much of what I thought about during that race. The only real things I remember clearly from that 10K was when the councilor shouting, “Sprint Adam Sprint!”
Snapping out of my day dream I notice the finish line up ahead with all the parents and families cheering on. When I looked ahead I noticed no one was in front of me. It was at that moment I realized, for the first time in my life, I was going to finish in first place! The sensation of the revelation and the rush that came over me after I realized I had passed everyone in the race was a both starling and inspiring.
Being so focused on my breathing and all the things I wanted to do when I got home, my mind wanderer a lot during that race. By the time I crossed the finish line, I felt like there was nothing I couldn’t do. After all, it really was the first time in my life that I ever gave everything my all and in doing so I broke every record they had for fastest 10K ever… and I don’t even remember my running time!
The Year Everything Changed
LESSON: It’s all about three things: focus, persistence and momentum! Of course, catching a break every once and a while is nice. But let face it, these things don’t happen that often in life! The reality is if you don’t apply these three things when you get your break. If you do, they will eventually lead to that break you’ve always dreamed about. The trick is to not stop trying until you do…
We were all meant to be great! The problem is most of us settle and few of us persist. More often than not the most mediocre people become great only because they never gave up no matter how much life kept them down and remained focused! Once they got some traction they never let up until they got so much momentum nothing could stop them accept themselves. Just remember…
When I got back into school that’s when things get very interesting…
From day one I was a completely different person. After I changed my vocational designation from Auto Body Repair to Business Management during my first week back, I found my new grove rather quickly. I was more alert, attentive than ever without drugs and went from a D and F student to straight A’s and B’s in the first quarter. My attitude and outlook on life changed for the better and I actually felt myself starting to care about my life. It wasn’t long before I rose to the top of my class academically.
Everyone seemed quit impress with my transformation I made from being a drug addicted social outcast to a very popular peer leader by the end of my second freshman year. Making friends seemed quit easy from that moment on as well. It was like my whole life completely change as I finally got the chance to reinvent myself that I always wanted. I never went back to touched another drugs or drank alcohol during the remainder of high school, accept for when I smoked the occasional joint during my senior year.
On top of all that, long after putting those dark days from the summer of hell behind me, they had left some residual after affects that I never even imagined possible. As life would have it, well into my sophomore year on the long bus ride home from school a friend of mine told me I had a daughter… Needless to say I was floored to say the least. Seeing as I wasn’t even 17 at the time I was told I could have a child turn 1 was a pretty unsettling feeling.
After discussing the matter further I was suspicious seeing as I didn’t even remember the woman described as the mother of my alleged child. That and the fact the the mother only had strong feeling the child was mine based upon the fact upon the rational that it was either me or her boyfriend around the time… so I was suspicious at best. Apparently, he was a short redhead who looked nothing like me and the child was this spitting image of me. Still, most kids would’ve bounced and bolted like a rabbit being chased.
If I had not been fully aware of how important it was for a child to have a father in their life I probably would’ve done what most kids my age have done… just blow the idea of it off. Knowing differently and have this new found strength from beating down some of demons of my painful past, there was no way in hell any child of mine would not know their father! So I got her information and arranged a visit. Even after talking to her, I didn’t really remember her but felt obligated to at least make the effort.
To this day I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to visit the mother and child at her very first birthday three towns away from P-Town. A part of me remembers that it was probably the fact that I felt guilty not being there at her birth. That, and if she was my daughter, there was no way I was going to miss her first birthday. I do remember feeling very troubled when I met the mother and didn’t really even recognize her, as I and was about to just turn around and walk.
Since I was there already and everyone seemed very welcoming of me as they introduced themselves, it was clear they all knew who I was. To this day I’m glad I stayed as this moment is one of my fondest memories during that period of my life. Looking back I remember how uncomfortable I felt I all dressed up in a room full of strangers. That eerie feeling I had realizing how everyone knew who I was as I remember thinking how odd is was to have a father meet his daughter at her first very first birthday? Especially when he wasn’t even sure he was the father…
Seeing as the only proof anyone had ever offered me to that day to validate the claim that this child was mine was the fact that the mother said the child looked more like me than the other potential father. Apparently, I was a special kind of stupid… In my mind I was screaming, “Run mother fucker, Run…! You don’t even remember meeting this lying ho!”
I persisted though as I slowly made my way through all the people and into the kitchen where she sat at the table waiting as she was waiting for them to light the candle on her birthday cake. She seemed so emotionless as she looked around at everyone around her. When I caught her eye stared at me and smiled with this amazing twinkle in her eye’s that seemed to light up the room. It was the first time I truly fell in love at first site… I knew in an instant that she was mine!
She really was a spitting image of both me and my mother when we were children. And, I really had little doubt she was mine and was immediately completely on board with taking responsibility for my child. Even my mother was delighted and I could tell that she had never been more proud of me seeing as I manned up and took to the roll of proud parenthood very quickly. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to be a good father. From reading a ton of books on the subject matter to asking a ton of question, I pretty much took everyone’s advice on parenting seeing as I was just a kid with a kid. And, like I said before, “There was no way in hell a child of mine would not know the love of their father growing up!”
She inspired me to be a better person, she was my newest addiction and I had no intention of ever quitting. I made it my mission in life was to be a good father to my beautiful baby girl who motivated me to work harder than I ever did in my life. My level of play raised considerably as I excelled even faster in everything I did while trying to make certain I had all the tools I needed to succeed after I graduated high school. In doing so I became an impressive leader. Captain of the varsity wrestling team, a varsity football player, student leader and president of several different clubs which eventually led to me becoming the class president of my Jr. and Sr. class, my future seemed limitless.
Having found that I loved to learn, I was a natural leader who got along with everyone. From being a fearless leader and a prolific public speaker, I participated and won various awards in local and regional business competitions. All while earning the respect and admiration of the very administration that once thought it may be better that I left CCT, I has also won the respect and admiration of my peers. Going from drugged out homo reject that no one really wanted around. I took home 3 of the class superlatives in my high school yearbook after going from one of the worst students in school to graduating 3rd in my class.
Considering that I was 1 of only 3 students in my high school who went to college. I did it all while being a father who made every effort to be a regular part of his daughter’s life unlike my own dad, I was on top of the world with no where to go but up.
After being recruited by Johnson & Wales University (JWU) in Providence, Rhode Island throughout my last two years of high school, I was offered a nice scholarship. Having found amazing new ways to utilize my passion for learning I even created a life plan to help me become the man I thought I was always meant to be. So I elected to go to JWU and extend my academic career which started off with a bang and ended on a high note as I had a true GPA of around 3.5+ so after I graduated and left college.
You see, when I say it this way, it sounds like everything is fantastic doesn’t it! The problem is, many of us spin the truth in very much like this and in the most clever way to give others the impression that life is just ducky. All the while covering the whole truth. In fact, so many of us have learned how to lie by telling the truth it freaking insane.
The one constant that has always bothered me most about humanity is that almost every I have ever met does this. You’d be surprised at how many people love to focus on only the good things that happen in life when it is really only the bad shit that can truly help you become a better person and overcome the obstacles in life. Pretending that its all good no different than taking a pill to help you pretend like life is grand. Just like drugs though, if you rely on them too long, they will eventually destroy you. These delusions are just smaller dose that don’t require a prescription…
The scariest part about this reality is that the people of the world didn’t figure our this technique all by themselves. Tragically, they learned from the very people who should never be allowed to apply it. We learned it by watching our nations, media and world leaders spin the truth to apply such clever deceptions all the time as they pretty much made this practice common place. After all, attitude always reflect leadership…
Granted I got a degree from college and my GPA was technically that high it is not the whole truth, but that’s neither here nor their but I will blog about this reality at great lengths throughout my literary journey. In college I learned a great deal about life, who I am and even I found it in the most peculiar places that I thought I’d never even consider going to. Some how, I found myself being drawn into the campus Greek life which I found odd. Especially seeing as I hated all those entitled frat boys. Having had the misfortune of bumping into few of these A-1 assholes my first few months of college, let’s just say that I wasn’t one to take crap from anyone considering my past and they found out the hard way.
Oddly enough my attitude changed when one of my newly acquired college friends introduced me to a brother from Kappa Sigma Phi named DJ. Being from one of the last local fraternities on campus, it really was one of the only truly diverse fraternities on campus at the time. He was honest and pretty up front about what his group represented and what their goals were. Considering that they were one of the small fraternities on campus, they had plans to grow. To him it wasn’t all about being a bunch of pretty boy white kids who were just clones, even though the campus had plenty of them at the time. His fraternity was all about being really diverse ethnically, spiritually and didn’t believe in being typecast as a typical frat.
So I decided to meet some of the other members and other people interested in becoming a brother at a non-rush related event, he clearly wasn’t lying. It wasn’t long before I was immediately hooked by their laid back demeanor and desire to not be a standard cookie cutter Greek social drinking club. Even though I fit in with that type of frat crowd they wanted to stray away from, I just didn’t feel comfortable hanging out with a bunch of clone with no real individual identity at that time in my life. Regardless of the fact that I pretty much was a pretty boy.
When I got to know the guys of Kappa the appeal of being able to choose your college family was quit intriguing. I guess I had always wished deep down inside that I could’ve had say in choosing members of my own family for obvious reasons. So, I started to hang out with them more often because I wasn’t really sold considering that my past experience had taught me to tread carefully when looking to throw yourself into anything.
The guy who really inspired me to join was DJ (or Big Brother Knowledge). Being one of the Resident Advisers of my dorm, he recruited me hardcore which wasn’t even really needed seeing as we immediately hit it off. Ironically, many of the brothers thought it was actually kind of odd. Especially seeing as I was more of the pretty boy lady’s man jock who was well built and had no interest in religion who was from the Red Sox Nation. DJ, he was a hardcore intellectual type that wore glasses and was all about religion. Well, that and the fact that he was a nearly 300Lbs heavyset African American gentleman Yankee fan from the Bronx, NY. Regardless of how much people would’ve thought we’d never get along, we actually became good friends in little time.
They even tried to pair me off with another brother I loved hanging to be my Big Brother. Although I really liked Reggie, and on the surface, it looked like we did have more in common I was pretty insistent that DJ was a better choice. Apparently they saw a lot of potential in me and what I could do for the fraternity because it was the first time they let a pledge chose a big bro. During my pledge process my fraternity finally had enough brothers and structure to seek out a national fraternity affiliation and secured an agreement to get a charter. By the time I finished my pledge process I would no longer be a local Kappa Sig, I would become a brother of Pi Kappa Phi associate chapter.
Under DJ’s tutelage my drive and leadership skills only grew as I went from becoming pledge line president to becoming the youngest president of my fraternity’s history. He even gave me the brother name “Prophet” as he and the other brother thought I would be the leader who would eventually lead them to greatness… no pressure there right! To make things interesting, just before summer, within weeks after I became an official brother a huge hazing scandal broke out concerning our president that rocked our fraternity. Yet, the brotherhood persevered and the new class of recruits impressed our nation fraternity enough to let us continue as an associate chapter even after the current President was removed from office.
In lieu of the situation, our national fraternity told us we needed to reorganize and start fresh by take the summer to re-evaluate our organizational structure. They told us that we need to hold a new election at the begging of the next trimester and that every position was up for grabs. After having the summer to think about what position I wanted to run for I said, “What the fuck!” I decided to run against the current Vice President and most popular Sr. (Brother Flip) for the role of fraternity President only months after I became an official brother. Yup, I have big balls…lol
Knowing my chances were slim, I knew I had to be a rock star. So I spent the summer going over what I need to do to outshine someone who should pretty much win in a landslide victory. My ace in the whole was the fact that I was a very organized and a fantastic public speaker. At first many of the brothers thought it was just a formality and that Flip would just roll into the office pretty much unopposed seeing as I was a newly initiated brother and all. The difference was, my brothers have never really seen me in action.
Using my highly animated and entertaining speaking style that comes quite naturally, I used a handout showing a detailed plan on what I planned to do and how I intended to achieve the goal I laid out. I hammer my points across while charting our fraternity’s course for success. Flip pretty much didn’t even have a chance because he wasn’t even remotely prepared for me, my presentation or the written plan/hand-outs I provided. I won the role of President by a near unanimous decision. Boy was he was piiiisssseeeedddddd!
We sputtered a little at first as a fraternity because many of the newer brothers were too interested it the social aspect at first and really didn’t want to do the work to get our national charter. So after the leaders of our fraternity met with our national affiliate they told us they really like our new leadership and had faith that we could do great things. Their concern was that we had to make some hard choices. We either had to get everyone on board or get rid of all those who refused even if we had only a few brother remaining.
Apparently, they weren’t just feeding us a bunch of BS as they kept us around even after the rocky start we had. Considering the fact that we eventually had to no choice but to eliminate all but 5 brothers in total, they let us keep our associate chapter status. Now I’m not going to say I was the guy who made it happen, I was just the guy who made them believe it could happen. In fact, it was more DJ than me. After all, no President could succeed without a strong team and he was the best Vice President a guy could ask for.
In spite the odds being stacked against us, we helped lead the group of 5 people who eventually recruited enough new brothers over the following years to become one of the largest, most diverse fraternities on campus. Apparently I did a good enough job in office to hold the position of Fraternity President for 3 consecutive terms. By the time I left office, we were 70 brother strong and had raised tens of thousands of dollars for our national charity during my ten-year.
For some reason I could not help but notice that everything I had learned from my past experiences seemed to have some value at that point in my life no matter how dark the memory. After all it was those years I studied human nature as a child which helped me see the value in connecting to many different people by seeing their lives through their own eyes. And, in college, there was more diversity accessible than even P-Town. It served me very well as an effective leader that knew the power of listening and helping others see my vision for plotting a chart towards m intended success. All while encouraging them to share their thoughts and ideas. Even though I did not use them all, they helped me shape our fraternity and I always openly showed my appreciation to those who helped.
Watching how politician regularly seemed to be able to pluck the strings of the voter’s emotion was always particularly interesting. I planned on being a different kind of leader though as all the ones I’ve met beforehand. In reality they never really took the time to truly understand the people they represented. They only seem to use clever talking point to make it appears as though they did. My group grew because I demanded that we all had a part in its growth. You were either part of the solution or a problem that need to be corrected and I was always willing to help find a way to make it happen.
All my efforts were directed to help develop the brotherhood. We didn’t party like other fraternities who were seen more as just a bunch of social drinking clubs that chased girls. We were more about becoming a better organization by helping each other become better people. We used the tools of fraternity to understand how companies operated as many of us saw the value in learning such things.
Things were on the up an up. My fraternity was doing well, I stopped whoring around and still saw my daughter when I went home for holidays even though I held a job and was in a committed relationship. Her mother even let her come visit me a couple times. I had charted my course for a promising future as I planned to get two Bachelor’s degree and two Associates in 5 to 6 years, then head off to law school.
My goal was to become a lawyer for a few years than off to a career in politics and government and I was well on my way towards achieving my high school dreams of success. All was well and good too… that was until a part of my unresolved past came charging back that almost bowled me over for good this time. Apparently, no matter how awesome my distraction and tools I used to cover up my pain worked… the one lesson I failed to figure out yet was the most important one. “No matter how much you succeed in life, if you don’t take care of your past, your past will take care of you…” And I don’t mean that in a good way!
The Year Of … What The F#&K!!!
LESSON: Momentum is a tricky thing… Sometimes life gives you a boost so that you can become strong enough to handle a head on collision. Granted the fast you go, the harder you hit. The reality is, you need to sometimes break down in order to heal enough to become stronger. That’s just how nature prepares us for life. Nature has always worked like this. Just like in martial arts training what makes you better at breaking bricks is not really the focus or training as much as the human bodies ability to adapt to most environments.
What many people don’t realize is that when you break bricks or boards repeatedly with your fists it actually cause the body to toughen up and adapt. After each blow the tiny air pockets in your bones actually break a little each time. As they heal, they form a more solid bone structure that allows them to become tougher and more resilient. Helping them to prepare for the next time they should come into contact with another solid object.
Life is really no different. That’s why refusing to take a stand and break through the walls of fear and pain we face throughout life in fact goes against nature which only serves make you weaker.
Here I was well into my 3rd year of college and doing well accept for a couple bumps in the road. Here I was, trucking along thinking I was taking all the necessary steps in life I needed to take in order to get over my past so I could have a better future in spite of it. Only to have life kick me in the nuts after I unwittingly stumbled upon some things about my past that my mind refused to remember and accept. Just another day in the life of irony I guess. What a bitch huh!
Looking back on these years when I was a kid it was always a little tough talk about my youth. Even though many people who wanted to get to know me better always seemed to ask. So I sugarcoated it…with A LOT OF SUGAR! After all, no one really wants to know about another persons crap, but what do you do when most of your life is just that? Crap! Granted, the 4 years before college made me sound like my life was just swell, so I often just focused on those days. After all, my past was behind me now so I figures, “What difference did it really make?” Boy I was a special kind of fucking stupid!
I never came to terms with the fact that those years before my turning point in high school contained some of the most important lessons I needed to learn in my lifetime. Hell, I never came to terms the fact that they ever really happened! Still being quit young, I never even considered that the very tools I actually needed to heal were even there, so I just did what everyone else does and swept the shit underneath the carpet.
It’s been almost two decades since I was forced to discover that all I really doing was using my success to hide from reality. Something I fear many of our most success leaders, influential people and well-known celebrities in the world still do to no great effect as almost all of them come crashing down eventually. We really believe that all such things can be stronger than the wave of depression that consumes when we don’t heal properly.
Many people who get toppled by this unavoidable truth usually crash and burn in private, some downfalls and acts of self-destruction are made quit public. As I too used my list of accomplishments I began to achieve at such a young age were quit impressive, they weren’t enough to keep the demons at bay. They never really are…
Everyone thought I would become the next great world leader or a high rolling CEO and who was I to disagree. Seeing as I was an extremely intelligent, well spoken young profession. I had a quick wit and great sense of humor with boat loads of charisma. (There goes that humbleness again…lol) All of which served me well as my gift for gab allowed me to be a great motivation who was fantastic at fundraising and strategic planning. Armed with a knack for inspiring and getting people involved in just any project I set my mind too. I actually formed a company my junior year of college in an attempt to start the universities first Greek housing complex while searching for a fraternity house of our own to buy.
Me and one of my brothers even went on to form a local RI newspaper called the Federal Hill Gazette which is still running to this day. All while attending college full time and working to support myself with no help from my family. Having always had a passion and loved for concocting extensive plans, inventing new ideas or products. I used to love drafting length proposals and programs to keep my mind occupied.
Never once did I realized that I was fact hiding from my past as the drug of my academic, professional and social success. Using the the high of accomplishments I never once considered the fact that I may be possibility running from those parts of my reality I was to weak to face. That was all about to change though. As a young man driven by his quest to become the best version of himself while assuring that his daughter’s have a future he never had.
All I ever wanted to do was succeed in spite of all those people who doubted me growing up and those horrible things I had endured. So I had done what everyone told me to do, “Get over it and put it behind you!” But, like I said before and will probably say a thousand times. Your past never really leaves you no matter how much you think you can bury it or put it behind you…
Sometimes your life can change in an instant after a simple conversation. A few choice words or a simply story that strikes a nerve can send someone reeling, especially if it reminds them of their own shortcomings in life. More often than not we just get pissed for reason we don’t truly understand. Rarely do these moments become complete nightmares or one of those, “What the fuck!” moments in life. When they do explode though, it can feel like someone knocked the wind out of you and kick you in the crotch when you were down… This only happened once in my life that I can remember after I was forced to wake up after a shore conversation brought about in one of my Business Law classes.
The revelation caused by this conversation hit me so hard, I crashed then relapsed into a world of drugs, crime and self-destruction for the second and last time of my life. Who woulda thunk it!
Seriously… What The F#&K!!!
Repressed memories are a funny thing. On the surface, most people would feel as if they are kinda lucky if your mind protects you by blacking out certain experiences. Especially those that many would find just too painful for our fragile ego’s to handle. Having seen many friends and family member caught under this spell of disillusionment over the past several years after I woke up to my own reality, it’s kinda tough to stomach sometimes. Watching people you know and care about lie to you or themselves over stupid mundane things is tough. The weird thing is, you never really see the patterns of this helplessness or how these mental blocks create until you become strong enough to face your own demons first.
Since I woke up to my own truth I have become more awake than I’ve ever been. Having become more forgiving and understanding of the very common disconnect most people have with the realities of the own life. It has freed me by allowing me to let these people live this lie, no matter how much I want to smack them in the face with truth. (As well as the backside of my hand) Witnessing how these illusions we create actually alters our behavior and how we see and treat the events that make up our lives is a very hard anomaly to watch. Especially when you care about the people doing it. It’s hard to believe that so many people refuse to wake up let alone take action to resolve such past issues.
Very few people see how much these things hold them back or negatively affect their decisions in life. Many people don’t even understand why they are so unhappy when they’ve been running from reality so long. Especially when it doesn’t work any longer. That’s when shit really starts to get bad and they try anything to help ease the pain.
That when desperation kicks in as we try to do anything to avoid being depressed. People start to take pills, look for the next rush or try to conquer the world all just to help them bury their pain a bit deeper into ones psyche. Eventually they become so impossibly unhappy there mode swing to such extremes without them even understanding why. It becomes a roller coaster ride they simply can’t stop. All because they can’t conquer the demons of their own past. We simply just don’t see the consequences of our inaction as we have become so addicted to instantaneous gratification to help ease this growing pain. We truly believe that if we can’t immediately remedy the malaise we can’t, so we don’t even bother trying anything that takes time nowadays.
Tragically our subconscious attempts to that take our mind off the fact that we’ve become a society of very self-destructive addicts. Willing to get hooked on anything that takes our mind off the truth and there are tons of pushers selling shit to help us put our minds at ease. Having become so reliant on other to help us solve the problems only we ourselves can defeat. We are just a world full of lost souls desperate and willing to follow anyone or do anything that may help us feel as if they can help us find our way.
We all know there is something missing. We all know that it is so close we can almost taste it and it’s driving our world insane! Everyone is getting so angry, sensitive and touchy even the slightest thing ignite a furry we’ve rarely seen before. All because deep down inside, each and every one of us feels like someone is purposefully getting in our way from finally being able to seize that bliss which we know we deserve. Those that stand to lose the most will distract you and tell you it’s because of your skin color, status or religion when it is clearly not the issued.
Sometimes all we need is that trigger. An extra push to help wake us up to the very thing that is really preventing us from seeing the real obstacles that have been in the way all along that are prohibiting us from finding our true selves. For some it’s a conversation, lesson or a story. For others it can a recent success or failure.
My wake up call that helped me start to face the demons holding me back was the day that I finally remembered the night my first daughter was conceived. I vaguely remember the conversation in my law class that brought back that particular repressed childhood memory. But, I do remember it had to do with a legal discussion about sexual consent while under the influence of drugs/alcohol and the double standards of sex, date rape, etc.
When I left class I remember being in a fog for the remainder of the day. I just kept dwelling on the conversation and for some reason I became obsessed with the fact that I never really remember the night of my daughter’s conception. Once I got home I decided to smoke a blunt to ease my tension. After a few hits, that’s everything just fell into place as it all hit me like a ton of bricks. In an instant, the memory of that night replayed in my head which made me come to a starling realization. Watching the cigar slowly fall to the ground in slow motion the pieces fell into place a horrifying realization surfaced.
The last person in my life who fed me alcohol until I was black out drunk like so many of my other predators before, was in fact the very woman who made me realize my childhood was a lie. That I was indeed not gay. For the next hour I just sat there numb. Having relived all those painful past repressed memories and experiences that started my summer of hell that led up to my attempted suicide as a kid. The only thing I could do was cry in disbelief as I had come to the realization that that woman who threw my whole world into complete chaos was in fact the mother of my first child!
Seriously? What the FUCK!!!
Welcome to Reality!!!
Needless to say this one eye opening experience made me question everything. Was my whole past a lie? Did I just spend my most of my high school and college years trying to become some huge success as some sort of distraction to hide from the pain of my past? Can I ever look at my child or her mother without throwing up or completely losing my shit? These were just some of the many questions that filled my mind over the next few weeks. As the self-doubt filled my mind the confidence the supported me diminished quit rapidly over the next few months. My life began to crumble.
Like a series of domino’s everything I did to maintain simply collapse as I started to self-destruct in ways I never thought possible. No matter how hard I tried, I completely lost focus on everything. Those somewhat healthy distractions my mind used and to keep me busy no longer worked. What once easily helped me to take my mind off my past was no longer a match for this repressed memory come to light. The beast within grew as did my attempts repeatedly failed to yield any fruit.
It wasn’t long before I began falling back into using hardcore drugs to ease my pain, I couldn’t even look my daughter in the face for years after that day. To this day I am still a little bit ashamed that I completely disappeared from her life very much like my father did me. Even if it was only for a few years.
I couldn’t help but question everything from that point on. My relationship with my girlfriend eventually fell apart because of self-doubt. My fraternity soon crumbled as half of my brothers, along with myself, left all because of bad timing. It didn’t help that some douche bag with ties to our national fraternity, who who recently became friendly with our local associate chapter, because he wanted to re-live his glory years.
Having him end betraying me after I confided in him about my problems as he tried to use them to have kicked out of my own fraternity created quit a shit storm in my frat. Out of fear, some stayed the course and tried to keep the fraternity alive while others who did not approve of this ass hats tactic left the brotherhood in protest to what he had tried to do to me. It felt like I just lost half my family I had worked so hard to become a part of. None of my brothers ever learned how much they meant to me considering none of them really knew about my past.
Disgusted with my life at that point I even got so bent out of shape I lost my job, the project for the fraternity house and Greek housing row fell completely apart. Eventually I even got fired from the very newspaper I helped build from the ground up and the list just grew as the hits just kept on coming and coming…
It got so bad I had to take a year off of college and somehow fell into a series of low paying consulting gig’s I fell into through some networking I had done while starting the newspaper and some other projects. Granted, they weren’t all legitimate endeavors but they helped me keep busy, pay the bills and get buy. They never really amounted to much and I eventually stole a shit load of money from my grandmother to help me start dealing drugs again to support myself and my addiction. I even contemplated suicide again… yeah, I got that low!
Finally I break down after losing everything and even actually started prayed to God for the first time in many years. Becoming homeless with nothing to my name but a suitcase of person possession I begged for help and for the G man to send me an angle so I could find my way once again. I thought I was doomed for certain as I was no longer a child who could run home to mommy. I was at wits end, then something miraculous happened…
Holy Crap… God Does Answer Prayers!
Yeah I know. It’s hard to believe in an imaginary guy in the sky… I get it! But seriously, I ask for an angle and maybe a little guidance and I actually got one! Granted, I was actually able to run back to mommy and my grandma even though they had every reason to turn me away. Against everyone in my families objections, they did not.
But the gift from God was this new angel that came into my life that summers. Her name was Anna. More than anyone else in the world she saved me from myself and helped me see all the beauty I still had inside. She helped me start to see the potential I had and that all my pain was only a test to see how much shit I could handle and still come back. Sometimes, all you really need to help you make sense of insanity is just that one person who believes in you…
Having met in the most unusual of circumstances and by compete chance that was so out of character for someone with my track record with the ladies… I have no doubt the odds of meeting this particular person were greater than winning a Power Ball jackpot! She was everything I was not and knew I needed to be. A good person with a huge heart she inspired me to go back to college and get back to being involved in my daughter life. Even though she did not know that part of my past, in my heart I knew I could not let a child suffer because of the misgivings of their parent. No matter how much it very well may destroy me, I had to make the sacrifice.
Especially seeing as I knew first-hand how awful that felt and how badly it affected my life. With Anna in my life I finally learned that no matter what happens you should never give up, you should never surrender. Well, her and Buzz Light Year from the movie, “The Toy Story”…hahaha.
Yes, I still hit a lot of walls! From having problems with my paperwork that made it impossible for me to finish out my college education as they refused to finance my remaining 11 classed I needed to get my last 3 degrees…talk about annoying. To dealing with the overzealous religious cult my daughter’s family had aligned themselves with. Can you guess the name of the church???
If you guessed “Hypocrisy Chapel” you’d be right! Of which only served to cause me even more pain that I just don’t have the time to get into now. Ironically, it encouraged me to bone up on my religious studies so I could protect myself from their full court press to try and use the bible to try and use the text to sell me… Again! Seriously, you can’t even make this shit up!!!
They really weren’t bad people though, just a little extreme and judgmental which was ironic seeing as those are very “Unchristian like” characteristics if you ask me. I guess the irony was, in boning up on my religious studies, I began to explore many different religions which help me discover I really didn’t have to go far to find my spirituality…
She helped me keep myself busy as I once again tried to put back the pieces of my shattered dreams. Over time she pretty much learned everything I’m sharing now and has allowed me to do some regressive therapy which has allowed me to see things more clearly. Having found my passion for life once again I found strength I never knew I had.
All of those things in my past that interested me started coming back into my life with very little effort. I had patience I never knew existed as it took me about a decade to come to terms with all the damage I had done to myself by running from my past. This book and blog are in fact the final nails in the coffin I created to help put these issues/demons to rest.
Here I am going to let it all hang out! Sharing my perspectives, theories, life lessons and point of views I’ve collected over they years regardless of how they may offend other helps.
Mostly, I just throw out my ideas to see if I can get some different perspective to help me clarify my own thoughts about the subject matter. Sometimes I may come across as pretty firm in my beliefs, but the reality is I always have and always will be willing to adjust my perspective if you can provide to information that makes me reassess by belief structure. What can I say, I am a constantly evolving and growing being that only wants to encourage others to do the same.
I know this may sound cheesy and I’m sure it puts some people off but it wasn’t until I found God until I really started to get some peace and clarity. Ironically, I completely understand why some people chose to not do as I have done and I’m completely cool with that. I just see the world differently, just like those other 7 billion people on the planet do. Although we may have some similar viewpoints and belief’s none of us see everything completely the same.
My reasoning for believing in the existence of God is as much scientific as it is spiritual. After studying the many lesson’s provided from multiple religions for several years I even almost became a fully committed minister and even did some pro-bono peer counseling for at risk teens and college aged youth for several years. Seeing as I’ve always felt the need to have my finger on the pulse of the millennial generation a part of me always saw them as the answer to all our world woes. They’ve always held a special place in my heart. It also probably stems from the fact that a part for me refuses to grow up…go fig! That is, yet again, another story…hahaha.
Having started over a dozen small businesses throughout my life, mostly for me while some were for others. I was fortunate enough to be able to follow my various passions while having the time I need. My wife helped make that happen as she alone helped me heal while helping me realize that helping others along the way is a huge part of ones individual healing process. My life was always about change and trying something new. As long as it sparked my interested and helped me try to make a better world, I was always all in. I’ve drafted so many business plans, projects and ideas over the decades I could fill a dozen filing bins with my research as I still carry much of my work around with me to this day.
I even started my own production company while living in NY when I trying to help my wife father prepare for his retirement. Unfortunately, some of her siblings were real asshole as they pretty much tanked my effort due to ego and greed. It didn’t help that all of this all of this started to happen just before the financial collapse of 2008.
My company even tried to launch a competitive reality TV show that was designed to encourage college students to throw the most amazing parties/fundraiser for worthy causes called, “College Party Planner”. Having planned to donate all the proceeds earned from the show help fund a charitable organization that wanted to put computers and distance learning tools into the hands or children across the nation. And, yes! I even designed the entire K-12 educational system that would help implement the system. You know, breaking down the barriers which limit a child from finding the genius that lays dormant in us all.
Seeing as I’ve always had the dream of helping kids take classes they are passionate about. Regardless of whether their schools could afford them, I never really believed in forcing children to conform to standardized curriculum was they way is should be. I actually even designed a few classes that help children become better adults who were more socially aware and civic minded. Of which is why I always believed that it didn’t really matter how messed up our world was. As long as you better equip our worlds youth to adapt and learn how to be better people, attrition would eventually take care of all those assholes really messing shit up for the rest of us…
Granted in the past schools with limited resources could not offer a child any class they wanted to take, but now there really is no excuse. Besides, anyone with any common sense or any experience at all with kids can tell you that all children learn differently and have different strengths and weaknesses. So what the hell is humanity thinking? How could anyone with half a brain think that creating a cookie cutter system of education is the way to go? Are you freakin kidding me!
What I’ve learned in life more than anything is that if you are on the right path, life will give you what you need. Seriously, what are the odd’s that my disastrous attempt at putting together a reality TV show would actually lead to my last consulting gig. What are the odds that it would lead to me working on the club owners political campaign as he ran for NY State Assembly. Once he tapped into the political part of me though, he was relentless in his pursuit of finding out everything I knew about politics to see how he could win the NY State Assembly seat for his district. After all, every little bit helped and I seemed to no more about politics than most of the people he hired and surrounded himself with in order to wage a winning campaign.
Seeing as h was running against a seven term incumbent in an area where incumbents don’t lose often. It was going to be tough race and he knew his team wasn’t doing going to help him. So I volunteered and did a little research for him, found a few holes and discovered the weakness in his adversary’s campaign. After showing him how to exploit them, it wasn’t really hard for him to surge ahead.
All he had to do was adjust his current strategy and stop talking about the problems with the other guy. So I gave him the key talking points the voters wanted to hear about, which is pretty standard in politics during that election. Seeing as Obama was making waves and the incumbent was a Republican, I just told him what he had to say, gave him a simple plan on how he would accomplish his campaign promises and he won by a nice little margin…
He won the office but I lost the contract to turn his club around…don’t you just love politics. The sad irony is, he eventually realized that some of my most pressing suggestions for his nightclub were the necessary course of action he needed to help turn his club around. Granted, I gave him a great plan to turn his club around, he just didn’t want to execute it. Of which is one of the things I always hated about consulting. Too many people are simply not willing to do what necessary in order to succeed it seems until all his other options were extinguished.
With little left keeping us in NY the wife and I decided to move back to RI just before he ran for office again. I even hear ran against the same person he beat in the election prior and lost by such a slim margin he fought it in court because of a voting count issue. Some of the people I kept ties with in NY say it seemed like he was not connected to what the people wanted this time around. My wife laughed when she found out and said, “Maybe he should’ve hired you draft a strategy to run his campaign instead of his night club to begin with.”
Understanding the nature of politics has always been my thing anyways… God I love my wife’s intuition…hahaha.
Since moving back to RI, I elected to find a meager retail management job that could use to help pay the bills so we start finally building our own family (It only took 15+ years right!).
Unfortunately I hurt myself at work and became permanently partially disabled in the process. Of which simply means, I’m screwed seeing as I can’t even collect any disability benefit or find a job with limited physical requirements. Especially in one the worst job markets in the nation! All of which has led e to hear… Somehow, while talking with a few friends about the usual: politics, religion and raising kids, I somehow got all these ideas in my head.
Everywhere I go so many people have problems talking about these topics of discussion without running into the occasional nut job who goes ballistic. The reality is, a lot of people do want to talk about them. It’s just these assholes always seem to want to hijack the conversation with anger and ignorance! So, I decided to help bring those people who actually want to talk about such things and see if I can help them help find ways to solve these problems with politics, religion and parenting to help them find better ways to discuss these delicate issues.
Having always had my own ideas about such things the more I put them to paper the more I realized they started to make too much sense for me to just let them go. So I dug deeper and came up with what you have now which is why I decided to start a blog. The funny part is, the blog is just a small part of a much larger puzzle. After being fortunate enough to meet many people of like mind I realized that the people have way better ideas on how to help humanity prosper and succeed than the leader we have in place. In reality, they pretty much suck at their job and if this were a business they would’ve been fired a long time ago!
Ironically, over my life I’ve accumulated quite a few “change the world, bring peace to all mankind” sort of programs, ideas and inventions. What motivated to come forward more than most was the birth of my two little girls. When they were born, something inside of me changed as they have compelled me to try and do something about how messed up my country and world really is.
Now, I’ve come to realize that this place we call Earth is just all kinds of fucked up and the systems in place are in no way conducive to helping any child find their genius or bliss. The reality it, all the children in the world deserve something better than what we’ve currently got. And with all the resources and technology we have today there really is absolutely no excuses as to why we keep on trying to jam the same square peg through the same round hole any longer.
If you can’t wake up and see that our world currently only serves to benefit so few people in it, they you are a huge part of the problem! What the world needs now is hero’s, people who are willing to at least try to find better ways to make the world a better place for all. We all deserve the chance to find this thing we call happiness that seems to elude us all. I just want to help you find it…
So I hope this Summarized life story helps you better understand why I do what I do and where I’m coming from… I hope it helps (and makes sense seeing as I am completely exhausted…lol).
Please forgive the grammar/sentence structure seeing as I didn’t really get a chance to do much editing and I usually hire an editor for many of my writings. The problem is, I’m a bit poor right now. As are most of us!
Yes…I should be nuckin futz but for some strange reason I’m very self-aware and completely sane. A little nutty and eccentric yes but I’ve always been very caring person who believes in tough love and lives to help others find the heroic genius that lays dormant in us all…. Ok it’s getting late and I’m starting to babble which means it’s time to turn in.
The bottom line is, life is too short to mess around and we’ve sat by and watched these ass clowns leading our world into chaos for are too long… They all tell us how successful they’ve been are are so the right person to get the job done when all they seem to be successful at is flush our future down the toilet!
There has been no better time to affect change than now! We just to stop being such overly sensitive pansies and accept that fact that we all have a right to our own perspectives. No one has a right to tell other what to say, how to be and what to think! The reality is, nature will eventually weed out those assholes who only enjoy hurting others and when we try to force them out and control nature, we only seem to create more assholes…
I guess we really can be our own worst enemy at times…huh.
Big shocker there…lol
I have a dream of building a better world for my girls…all of them!
It all has to start somewhere and for me it starts right here!
Should I Write A Full Size Book?
Well… that’s a very good question!
The problem is the whole story of my life would span 1000’s of pages, so I’d probably have to break it down into at least 2 or 3 different books.
If I were to do this my first book would be called,
“The Book of Adam”
“Memoirs of a would be Messiah”…lol
Considering it would most undoubtedly end around years I thought I was the second coming of Christ. It pretty much makes perfect sense.
After all, this period of my life does contain some of the more entertaining material regardless of those moments that led to this little break from reality. For the most part, a lot of the material I have really is quit relative to what is going on in the world today and is filled with a lot of fantasies that would inspire hope so it would probably sell.
Granted its primary purpose would be to help people heal and learn from the lessons that make up my life. After all, I really want to help others avoid the trauma involved with gaining the knowledge I have accumulated. Hey, if you can learn from other peoples mistakes, you’re doing pretty well than most. And I wouldn’t wish my life on my worst enemy!
Seeing as people are more drawn to the raw and more emotionally charged material nowadays, there is clearly a market for this type of story. In either case I plan of finishing my book(s) about my young life eventually. After having many conversations with “God” in my head and living many lifetimes while I dreamt, I’ve seen humanity accomplish some pretty amazing things. I’ve also seed it crumble time after time as well. So it’s a pretty interesting story I’ve dying to tell for a long time. It’s just so hard to pick the best ones to share though.
I guess what it all comes down to in the end is… YOU!
That’s where you come into play. To help me get a better idea of whether or this book really is a good idea or not, I am going to let you decide!
What I am proposing is simple. If you’re interested in reading the actual full length book(s) I’m willing to give you an advance copy of my this entire collection if your willing to invest in me before I finish it. What I’m actually asking for very little seeing as my smallest donation I am interested is only $5.
To see the details of what I am proposing and offering, please click here.
These books will only be offered to you and will not be the ones sold in book stores if I actually chose to publish through traditional means. Besides, a publisher will most likely never let me print half the shit I want say anyways.
In donating to me and my one man cause you will be affording me the opportunity to help make writing a full time career. Allowing me to hire the staff and personal assistance I need to make sure my words actually make sense…hahaha
The more advanced copies I sell, the faster I can get the book ready for print, the more I can do, the more people I can help! So please be patient if this process takes time and you don’t get a copy of my first book right away, these things take time.
Yes, I already technically kind of have a rough draft of the first book(s). Seeing as I already wrote a rough draft and keep a journal. I have written down many of the stories that make up my life as I used them to help me revisit my past. Many of these tales, ideas and theories have allowed me to explore the lessons I needed to learn from the memories of my younger days.
So all I really just need to do hire the necessary team of professions to help me polish, rewrite and prepare them so I can turn them into an actual novel. And, they are just so much more entertaining than what I’ve shared with you in these 30+ or so pages above…
So please, help a brother out!
The reality is, if someone like me sold even half as many copies as the Harry Potter series did. The world would be a different place right now as I’d rock the world to its core and change it in ways that w0uld blow your fricken socks off! All while having a blast showing everyone how easy it is to make the world a better place for us all!