I must apologize for my absence. My last post spoke to the self imposed pressure I have been putting on myself and I just needed to escape. For those who have had substance issues, escape means well using and that is what I did. I can’t hate myself for doing it because it is now a part of me, but it’s not all that is me.
I use to not want to speak about my struggles with substance or my HIV. I have some family members that read my blog and I just didn’t want the judgment or it to get back to my immediate family, more so the parentals, but I can’t release and revive unless I am forth coming and open. At this point I’m not ashamed but I do get pissed off when I fall back into the sex and drug world which I truly hate. This is not my attempt to set myself apart from the other addicts out there; I am truly engaging in behavior that doesn’t even bring me fleeting joys but it’s there, it’s something and it requires so little of me. I am back there; fear of success and reaching my potential. I am seeing my window get smaller and smaller as I am becoming a bit long in the tooth to be thinking about school, starting my own restaurant especially after I spend so much time in school and working for others to improve my skills. And what of my own self worth that seems to be getting less and less noticeable as I ask for others appraisal of me.
I never really speak about the characters I meet in this world. to be honest they are what you would expect. They like myself feel they have a handle on their addiction. They are fooling themselves thinking this life is just a stop and those they are meeting can be anything beyond what they currently offer them; which is an excuse to continue, friends until the product is out and the next good thing pops up with a bag and a pipe. This is where my Buddhist nature does me a disservice because I constantly try to see beyond this drug session to maybe an actual friendship. Hell I even made the mistake a few times thinking love can come from these encounters but I mean the game is real. This environment breeds not only willing assholes ( and I mean both the orifice and personalities) but slick talking hustlers. And the high makes you believe in the moment what you are saying and feeling but in the light of day and sobriety it’s all a mess of broken ideas and promises.
So I have been escaping from joy to oblivion thinking there is some joy, hoping for a savior that looks and thinks like me but isn’t me. I know how to save myself and what that looks like. I’m terrified. I’m searching and wanting it but terrified. It’s a mix of confidence but not wanting to say and be me because being me means being separate. Being me means very few current associates, meeting places, and habits will survive; and being me isn’t a joke.
Time for some good ole fashion ego. I am a dynamic person. I am creative not only writing a blog regularly that I must keep fresh, but I have written four full novels and currently working on a new four book series. I can cook my ass off and am looking forward to culniary arts school to improve my skills and diversify my knowledge base. I got a mean walk that can put Ms Naomi Campbel herself to shame. I am a fierce and loyal friend and lover, which you would be lucky to know. My hear is huge and damaged and healed and ready for the next round of hurt and healing but in the end, wow those that are fortunate to know me will know true love.
So all that and I still dont trust I can be that and have reciprocity. I continue to feel I am just too much, too out there, too individual even those I know I’m just me and not as unique as I might see myself as. I have gotten rid of my voice and adopted the voice of the doubters and haters. I’ve adopted the eyes of the never enough crowd and I have to reclaim it all. The real escape I need is from the beach vacation I’m in, building sand castles right at the edge.
Where is the wave?