If you’ve ever been to an “anonymous type” meeting, you’ve probably heard about this strange word called acceptance.  Dictionary.com defines as “the act of taking or receiving something offered.  favorable reception; approval; favor. the act of assenting or believing.” At meetings all over the universe tonight, I imagine wise folks with many years mouthing the word “acceptance” when someone flops a problem down on the recovery table.

That being said, acceptance appears to be *gulp* … “taking it” with “a favorable reception” and “believing it to be true”.  Holy shitcakes. This means that when I have difficulties (as most of us do of course) I’m to not only buy it but be glad to do so?? What the hell does that mean?  That there is some rhyme or reason to all this madness?  That if I keep putting one foot in front of the other that there will be a purpose or knowledge gleaned or some kind of courage found that wasn’t there before? That maybe just maybe what doesn’t kill us … yeah that phrase.

Maybe there’s not a reason. It could be that life is life. That fairness doesn’t exist and there’s no grand justice or big daddy in the sky that keeps a tally. I don’t know.  Don’t have that answer. What I do know is that I can remember. Remember who I really, truly am … way down deep … when the shit hits the fan.  Full of honesty, courage, strength, truth, fortitude, willingness … yeah the stuff I dig.

So perhaps the whole acceptance thing is like military issue glasses. Not much for looks or bling or even pizazz but brings some serious clarity in Buddy Holly frames.  What’s the nitty gritty of the “work” that we do in recovery?  Gettin on with the gettin on … the “no matter what” of it all.  Grit your teeth and accept it. Some of us even do it with some grace and style.  Personally I’m still a bit teenager-ish about it, the tantrums lessen every month or so and hissy fits become funny.

“And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation — some fact of my life — unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. ”  (pg. 417 BB 4th ed.)

Accept the things I cannot change … (serenity prayers worldwide)

“Take it” …  “with favorable reception” … “and believe”.  And whom or what you believe to be a power greater than you… (mine is a room full of drunks)  they still continue to laugh at me as I look over top of my glasses with eye rolls and middle fingers.  They accept me with all my flaws and tantrums and silliness that comes from thinking that I’m more important than I really am. They accept me with open arms and the knowledge that we share the same flawed perceptions peppered with humor. THEY YOU accept me… who the hell am I not to accept myself?

And as I continue to look over those ‘glasses’… when I decide to finally look through them again, life seems more than half full. Optimism through a reality strainer. Accepting that everything is as it should be at this very moment… it’s MY eyes that are the problem. Myopia and astigmatism in the guise of pessimistic belligerence. My prescription? A healthy dose… of acceptance.

But if you ARE a tasker/obsessive/have to do everything right person (like yours truly) please, by all means, read on… 

I was reading a friend’s interview on Google + this morning (fantastic article featuring the ‘relentless optimist’ Laura Grace Weldon) and she used the phrase “Busy Addiction“, oddly enough I’d been conceptualizing a blog post about… oh hell who am I kidding, I write about what I’m going through at the time. Busy Addiction hit me like a ton of bricks because that’s what I do 99.9% of the time.

Task managing extremist with a penchant for running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Guilting myself if I don’t get everything done like a whirlwind, including but not limited to… raising three daughters, full time work outside the home, house cleaning/maintenance/slavery/fixing plumbing and doors and windows and floors and omg, three active blogs, editing, 12 step meetings, a budding relationship, social networking whoring… I could go on. But I shan’t.

Me time? What’s that?

Well that would be the time when I can BE versus DO. (and yes I’ve written about this before but obviously I’m not picking up what I’m putting down… for myself… so it’s a concurrent underscoring theme of KNOCK IT OFF AMY.)

So of course like I always do… I frame data into a recovery mindset. Holy smokes. Talk about a giant WHAP in the noggin.  When I applied the obsession for BEING versus DOING with a focus on recovery I thought the word DRIVEN immediately. What step are you on… what are you looking at today… what is your issue… what meeting are you going to… what are you actively DOING to stay healthy. This is obviously very necessary as umm… well… if we DON’T do those things the end result will be returning to active use and yeah… fail.

My sponser/bestie/sister type bff Kat and I were talking at work the other day about how being in recovery is sometimes SO different than the others around us in a work environment. When something happens (and not in a “good” way) many other people will look outside themselves to explain the problem. “It was so and so’s fault.” “You don’t give me enough time to get my job done.” “I’m doing the best I can.” “Get off my jock.” (lol) Whereas her and I are (almost to the point of brutal) always searching within… “What can I do better?” “Where was my responsibility?” “I need to do an inventory.” (omg) Yes sometimes it’s that severe… okay most times.  We laughed and laughed about that but then got a little bit quiet… is this always the best way? Busy busy busy task task task do do do.

Well yes. It is the best way. For without indiscriminate self exploration (with the help of others) recovery just isn’t going to happen. Us recovery type folks are notorious for blaming everyone and everything else for our drinking and drugging early on. It’s the nature of the disease. “If only you people would think/act/feel the way I want you to then I wouldn’t have to do what I do.” (You know I’m not lyin’ here.)

But is there a point where all this magnification of our behavior becomes too much? (just a little?) Especially if we set up unrealistic expectations of ourselves? I’m guily of that in a big way. Over-analyzing my actions to the point of nausea. I know this about myself. So does my support system who promptly tell me “Knock it off and get out of yourself.”

You see even focusing on your “stuff”, if done to an extreme, can be a form of sick. Ego driven blah blah blah. Sometimes things happen just because they happen. I’m not the center of the universe and the world WILL NOT END if I don’t do everything right. (go figure) EVEN IN RECOVERY. There are moments when I can put down the self inventory and just allow myself to “be”. It’s a fine line however and not to be confused with “resting on our laurels”.

The magical magnifying glass can be your best friend or worst enemy. Breathe easy today. Know that just the fact that you’re on the path speaks volumes. Take a relaxing moment or twenty. Allow yourself to just “BE”. You’ll be amazed if you do. Because sometimes you have to let all the “work” you do… soak in. So you can BE in recovery versus DOING recovery. This, in my opinion, is the difference between talking the talk… and walking the walk.

Love you people and, as always, I love recovery.

It’s National Recovery Month… huh? What does THAT mean exactly? Well according to SAMHSA (Substance Abuse And Mental Health Administration) it’s this…

National Recovery Month (Recovery Month) is a national observance that educates Americans on the fact that addiction treatment and mental health services can enable those with a substance use or mental disorder to live a healthy and rewarding life. The observance’s main focus is to laud the gains made by those in recovery from these conditions, just as we would those who are managing other health conditions such as hypertension, diabetes, asthma and heart disease.  Recovery Month spreads the positive message that behavioral health is essential to overall health, that prevention works, treatment is effective and people can and do recover.

Ah that whole awareness thing. Gotcha. And oddly enough in ALL the recovery circles I run around in… I’ve not heard tons about this. Pity. Although I suppose that those already IN recovery don’t really need it seeing as EVERY month is recovery month. For those who don’t know about recovering people… or what addiction is or how to treat it? Yeah. Great.  Maybe this is why…

Celebrated during the month of September, Recovery Month began in 1989 as TreatmentWorks! Month, which honored the work of the treatment and recovery professionals in the field. The observance evolved to National Alcohol and Drug Addiction Recovery Month (Recovery Month) in 1998, when the observance expanded to include celebrating the accomplishment of individuals in recovery from substance use disorders.  The observance is evolving once again in 2011, to include all aspects of behavioral health and will now be known as National Recovery Month (Recovery Month).

Ah. Right. A month that started as atta boys for counselors (hey I was one for nearly ten years… no shame in givin’ peeps high fives for that) to nine years later celebrating the individuals IN recovery from substance abuse disorders… to EVERYONE and all forms of “behavioral health”.

Great. Right? Cheers and hoopla and whatnot for SAMHSA. Or not. Yeah I’mma catch flack for this one. Don’t really care.

I AM NOT A FAN OF THIS.

Why? Umm. Let’s see. Google our fantastic “Administration” (or because I heart you click the link above) and what does it say? Well besides a lot of pretty words it says… BEHAVIORAL… a lot. It also says MENTAL ILLNESS in conjunction with SUBSTANCE ABUSE. Bleck. and double BLECK. (since we’re going with the whole caps thing)

Man look… the only substance I ever “abused” was the one that I didn’t finish. Abuse. Paugh. I loathe that word. Abuse is like saying that there was a choice in the matter. The Big Book tells me when it comes to alcohol I’ve “lost the power of choice” and I “can’t differentiate the true from the false“. Physical malady with a mental twist of rotten lime chaser.

Do I sound bitter? Probably. Do I have reason? Yep. As a former Addictions Counselor, I spent the majority of MY time (during staff meetings) hashing it out with other “professionals” who believed that Addiction was a Mental Disorder. That if you got to the “core” issue (mommy and daddy not loving you as a child) then you wouldn’t be an addict any more). And NO, I’m not kidding. And I got a bit heated. Why?

Because that goes against everything we learn in 12 step land. We are “physically and mentally different than our fellows“. (it’s in the Big Book. Look it up.) Yes we have a “peculiar mental twist” but once we pick up a drink/drug/needle/blunt/pipe/syringe/pill… something is different in us than other people.

If having a BAD childhood is a requirement for addiction… there’d be a HELL of a lot more people in the rooms.

Now I could go on a huge dissertation about how the American Medical Association has listed alcoholism/drug addiction as a physical disease. But I won’t. You can read about it HERE (Relapse Part Uno… or just the basics Ma’am) That’s the premise I work(ed) under. Because it is TRUTH.

The words substance abuse and mental illness in conjunction with who WE are? It pisses me straight off.

So thanks for your National Recovery blah blah blah… but yeah. It’s not for US. It’s for all the treatment providers in the world to pat themselves on the back for working with us “poor addicts”. Thanks. Really. Raise awareness for treatment (it does work if you have the right providers see a list at In The Rooms… they know the good ones) but don’t make it out like it’s for us. Cause’ it isn’t.

A site that I like? A lot? Sure. NICD. National Institute of Chemical Dependency. Booya. Cause that’s what the hell it is… physiological AND mental dependency. (Screw the word ABUSE. pffft.) These cats know what’s up yo. ANY site that lists these at HOT topics for prevention AND treatment… is cool in my book.

HOT TOPICS & RESOURCES

Addiction Resources

ADASK (Alcohol and Drug Addiction Survival Kit): Is a series of articles and resources geared towards parents and others dealing with the devastation of alcoholism and drug addiction.

Alcoholism and Drug Addiction Videos

Drug Pictures

Street Drug Slang Terms

Paraphernalia

Signs & Symptoms of Drug / Alcohol Use

Step Work

Relapse Prevention

http://www.nicd.us/findyourhp.html

Find National State to State Halfway Houses

Treatment Center Finder

Yeah. Lots different. And oh… if you go to the site itself? Note the top of the page where it says…

No God = No Peace / Know God = Know Peace

For a national organization to put that on their site? They know recovery. So… SAMHSA? Keep your “abuse” word and contemplate how great your recovery programs are helping “people like us”. Atta boy yourselves for a job well done. Any treatment program worth two shits helps people understand what they’re dealing with, gets them out of their using environment, and then pushes 12 step or alternative support groups. Yes there are mental issues that are addressed but they are listed as BARRIERS TO RECOVERY… NOT CAUSES OF ADDICTION.

HUGE EFFIN’ DIFFERENCE PEOPLE.

I would say sorry for the rant. But I’m not. I loved being a counselor/therapist, and I have pretty strong beliefs about what works and what doesn’t. Some treatment facilities get it (usually with most of the staff themselves being in recovery) some just DO NOT. Let’s support the ones that do… the sites that DO… the organizations that DO… because us “poor folks who abuse substances”? Well we’re some smart m-effers and with the help of treatment professionals who get IT as well as “the rooms”, we handle our bizness… thank you very much. Seventy plus years of 12 step programs thriving says this is so.

I don’t abuse shit. I… am an addict.

And while you’re patting yourself on the back SAMHSA? I (and those like me) am working with the newcomer who doesn’t give a DAMN about National RECOVERY Month. They just don’t want to die. Same as me. Perhaps all that money you’re spending on fliers and advertising could go to folks who need a damn treatment BED. Just sayin.

I love recovery.

Disclaimer: All the words listed in italics above are quotes directly from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous. If you find them and email (soberandsassy@yahoo.com) me… I’ll take you out for coffee. Or I’ll send you a gift card and we can webcam drinking it together and shoot the shit recovery style. (I’m not kidding) Tell a girl. 

so. yeah. i don’t have a regular blog post tonight. but i do have some poetry. i know … *groan*.

but this? this is important to me. and long. and to any of you who have suffered abuse by the hand of someone who says “i love you”

you’ll get this.

addiction often lends itself to allowing abuse into our lives … physical, verbal, or otherwise.

because if we are hurting ourselves it would stand to reason that we allow the same from others.

this is heartfelt and sincere. and shook me to the core.

thanks for reading… me.

he told me how worthless i am

and that i am useless yet at the same time he loves me

I dont know how to feel except miserable

i know the great guy he is and i will never give up one him…

even when he tries to push me away …thats love.

( as seen on a facebook status. )

I.

as a woman who has lived

giving always to another

bothered by naught

taught to take it well

swelling lips broken

token affection

injected just when necessary

glaring contradictory

story of a victim’s life

strife in the “yeah but”

strutting when he was kind

blinded by half truths

moot points of misery

fantasy of “someday

baby you’ll see

truly what you’ve got”

sotted by lies

crying when truth

vermouth enriched

bitching was normal

hormonal blamed for it all

stalling into the cock … pit

slit of truth denied

spied on happy in others

smothering personal worth

dirge of an awareness song

long gone was my own opinion

onion tears from HIS words

disturbed me never

clever as I was … I was blind

denied kindness for so long

strong woman gone

alone was better than

standing entrenched in hatred

putrid salve masked as love

II.

gloves off now girl

pearl of wisdom for your necklace

glass is all the way empty

see true love never degrades

blades of pain are borne from emotion

devotion makes it so

no man who loves you will say

baby you’re worthless but…

slut. whore. bitch. I love you anyway?

gray is NOT the new fashion

attention pay please to what I am saying

braying asses are just a distraction

faction of the problem displayed

any way you look at it

sitting or standing or bent over in pain

shame is never love.

dove of unselfish kindness both ways

today you better LEARN your name

games are for babies

maybe you’ve not heard

words CAN hurt like whips

lips bloodied with spittle

whittling away at your heart

start thinking two way street here

tears should derive from emotion

stolen never from your grace

face it now or find more misery

blistering truth hurts for a moment

token pain of growing up

buttercup if you’re so worried about him

slim chance you’ll find true romance

dance is made for TWO partners

starting and stopping in their embrace

facing the world the same way

not you looking always at him … and him looking away

III.

trust me I’ve known the difference

given a chance at true love’s bliss

missed that chance too

blue filled scars from my past pain

drained the life out of the only real I’ve known

owning it makes it hurt no less

happenstance of a love gone

strong man pushed away from scars

barring my happy ending

sending him away because victim … used to be my name.

pain is there but also gladness

sadness for love’s loss but

trust me when I say in truth

forsooth I’ll not choose to be where you are again.

and the next time true love knocks on my door

sore from running I might just stick scars or not

stopping in my tracks because I now … know the difference.

complete-ness starts with me.

* you can find more of my actualized poetry at Sassifiable Poetry.  If you’re into that sorta thing.

Changes. I got em. Big ones – little ones – ones that snicker and leer – ones that fill me with fear (omg I’m rhyming. OUT of poetry mode Amy. sheesh.) Anyway… even the “good” things can be scary.

Being the upbeat – on the verge of annoying – happy girl that I am, I handle most situations with dignity and grace and more than a little bit of humor.  Sometimes okay … MOST times … we have to pick ourselves up by the proverbial bootstraps and get down to bidness. (for those of you “slang” challenged… business.) Easier said than done yes? When your insides are quaking, shaking, aching for some normalcy (whatever THAT is … think calm water. right.) what do you do to chill… OUT?

• Calming thoughts.

• Positive self talk (think Stuart Smally … geek-ish but effective)

• Filtering true data away from flawed perceptional “feelings”.

• Realizing that in time … whatever is freaking me will seem different.

• Physical activity. (even striking a yoga pose for a few moments helps bring clarity. seriously. try some jumping jacks or running in place for a minute or stretching. great way to clear out the old brain.)

• Laugh. (especially at my own silliness. you have to not have an ego for this one though. people who like and accept themselves have the ability to see the humor in almost every situation. even if it’s just how silly it is to be so worked up.)

• Inventories. (ALL THE TIME. Like a leper taking a physical view of themselves every so often throughout the day … so goes the inventory process for me. 10th step 10th step 10th step … win win win.)

• Not obsessing on the problems – because we all have them – but focusing on what I can do. Basic tenant of recovery. I like the idea of that. Lots.

So there it is. A way to not take life so seriously and keep a somewhat rational head on my shoulders. (Emphasis on somewhat. Too much rational makes a girl grumpy… AND boring.)

That’s it for tonight. Being a workday and needing mommy and mini ninja time. Be well this day.

Ever heard the phrase, when we start using we stop growing emotionally.  So basically look at the age you first began using and that’s EMOTIONALLY where you’re starting from when you get sober/clean.  Scary eh? A bunch of teenagers trying to navigate the social world.

Except that many teenagers have learned coping skills through the natural progression of adolescence.  How to deal with the difficulties presented in their peer groups; healthy self esteem, playing nice with others, how to act with integrity, value identification, how to deal with peer pressure (I could go on for days here but I won’t.)

Kinda puts things in perspective yes?  That we are emotionally immature with little/few coping skills, trying our best to overcome a disease that’s trying to kill us.  This is a large part of our “sick”.  Ever dealt with a saucy teenager who is freaking out about pretty much … everything??? Right. Difficult is putting it mildly.  When we grow up … there is a factor of “pain” involved.  Hence the term growing pains. Get it? Got it? Good.

Remember this when dealing with the newcomer. If you ARE the newcomer … be gentle with yourself you’re still an awkward growing gangly teenager way deep down inside.  I sorta like the idea of that really – the perpetual fountain of youth from the inside out.  (0kay you know I was being sarcastic. I hope. Sheesh.)

What does emotional maturity mean? Growing up. No more foot stomping hollering “It’s not fair!”. Well you CAN do those things but it won’t get you far in a healthy recovery community.  Stepwork is vital.  In a way the steps teach us in a clear concise way what a large portion of the world learned while battling the initial onslaught of acne … and then some.

• How to focus on yourself and your own problems. As MOM would say … “Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing. If everyone else jumped off a bridge would you do it to?”
• Don’t overreact. MOM-ism “Quit being so dramatic. How important is it?”
• Ask a power greater than you for help. MOM says “You don’t know everything.”
• Humility (no better or worse than anyone else). MOM: “You are NOT the center of the universe child. Everyone is NOT staring at you because you’re goofy looking. People have their own lives to worry about.”
• Apply the principles learned to ALL your affairs. MOM : “Act right because it’s simply the next *right* thing to do. Not just when someone’s watching. Be who you really are. I love you.”

Okay I just almost made myself cry with that last one. Good grief. Recovery as parental teachings with the additional benefit of non-judgment. Boy do I like the idea of that. And a kind gentle real loving recovery mom. Which is what I strive to be every single day to my daughters. This blog post was rather revealing … as it usually tends to be for this recovery chick. Just goes to show you when you give it away … you keep it.

I love… recovery.

umm. wrong ass.

Sometimes … we need to take a break. Especially and most importantly, when we’re in a sick thinking mindset.  Taking a short bit of time to breathe and find out what the hell is going on with ya badself … is epically important. Yes I used epic. Yes. It fits.

In the fast pace of returning to a life well lived… a sober life, fraught with all the responsibilities that comes with being a productive member of society; you I need to take time to reconnect.  When I don’t? It’s not pretty.

Let me give you a laundry list of why nots. Which are all bullshit of course in this day and age of the internets and a million ways to connect.

• lack of childcare and guilt over asking reluctant family to watch my mini ninjas
• a ‘i can just inventory’ mentality. not feeling the need to show my proverbial tuckus (which is very much needed for this sick chick)
• time. there isn’t ever enough of it really. work and kids and homework and writing and and and … blah blah blah. (yes i do know this is my sick talking)

See writing inventories is vital. But so is the sharing. The challenging of thinking that stinks. Whether on the phone, email, in a poem, whatever ~ I MUST… show the sick. No matter what anyone thinks.

This is the key to staying sober/clean. This sharing. “Telling on.” And so… I am.

I don’t have to do everything ‘right’ you know. On the path and in the journey is all that is required of me.  Thank the gods that I don’t HAVE to have it all together.  There is freedom in that.  If you have folks in your life that DON’T show their rump (sick, disease, whatever) get around some.  Run. Don’t walk. There are no judges, hung jury, or executioners in ‘recovery land’.  We’re all doing the best we can with what we got.  One thing I have learned to love about me is my willingness to tell on myself and then find the lesson and THEN … the humor.  Cause’ if I’m not laughing? I’m a goner. Truth.

Humility is a beautiful thing.  Perfectionism is for pansies. Real courage is a truth telling sojourn into the ‘real’.  Thanks for being here with me. And for laughing with me at my tanning booth tan lines… rump style.  You know. That white spots where you lay on your back? The pressure point? Yeah. That one.

But in reality? We are  …

because beauty in the eye of the recovery beholder? Can look like a hot mess, in a dress of course.  Honesty is beautiful. Real is beautiful. Raw is beautiful. YOU … are beautiful. And maybe I am too. With all my flawed perfect imperfections.  I like the idea of that. Lots.

Been down so long that I’m lookin’ up from the floor.  ~ Ruby S.

(and not in that ‘good come get me big boy’ kinda laying on the floor either. which is another topic altogether. not relevant. shush.)

Knowing what to expect, even and especially when that expectation is self-fulfilled and self-propelled time and time and time … again. Where everything is flip flopped and good is bad and right is wrong and fail is all I’ve ever known.  I felt this way in early recovery. Back as a nineteen year old drunk who was going to treatment to keep my fast ass outta jail. (didn’t work by the way but i looked damn good in orange)

Everything ‘healthy’ was so strange like an infomercial at 3 AM with an overly exuberant Jay ‘The Juiceman’ Kordich where his epically bushy eyebrows talk to me about the power of BEING HEALTHY and how everything in my life will change if would just juice this damn pineapple!!!! (do NOT ask me how I know this. I shan’t tell you. no matter how much you beg)

Feelings being shared. Kindness. Understanding. Not being allowed to make ANY more excuses.  Felt like an uncomfortable hug being held just a little too long.  I’m not really the touchy feely type anyway … unless with my kids or my epically handsome boyfriend.  Then all bets are off baby. Kisses all around.  Otherwise I value personal space immensely.  And to have all these people hand shaking hugging and all up in my grill? Oh hell no.

Of course it changed.  Because I allowed it to sink in through osmosis.  That there was indeed hope to be found in recovery and I didn’t have to believe the lies that my head slammed into the brick wall day after day.  I wasn’t sick but bad.  I could never change.  These people were crazy. (okay some things haven’t changed but I’m getting better. promise.)

This still happens today in different ways.  As I sit here I realize that one of my biggest fears is of … success.  Perhaps I actually CAN achieve my dreams.  I CAN have a healthful loving relationship (and am). The future is bright.  IF I succeed, then I am responsible.  Big-word-don’t-like-it-not-even-a-little.  Swimming in a sea of responsibility with three children, overbearing parents, work, work, work, and then writing (which isn’t work REALLY but IS time consuming); I feel so spread thin that I channel transparency – aka ‘the glass whisperer’.  A life well lived is a busy life blah blah blah. Whatever.

But it’s about taking that next uncomfortable step.  Whatever that may be.  Whether getting your ass to that meeting you don’t want to go to or picking up that 100 pound phone or a new job or a new place to live or submitting writing or finishing this damn book I’m working on in the short spaces left over in between responsibility and sleep.  *deep breath* K.

There is a spark.  That will not die. That says “keep at it no matter what”.  Recovery has given me that spark, for before 1992, up was down, good was bad, and right was wrong. (as much as I despise those words … they fit. poetic license people)  Having the wisdom to know the difference makes me accountable to KEEP seeking that next goal, step, jump, slither, baby step.

Thank the gods, whomever they may be, that it’s a process.  Too much happiness slammed on me all at once might damn near kill me.  I can do pain, sorrow, misery with panache and flair and look damn good doing it too. (damn straight)  But this ‘no drama’ thing happening since I got my head out of my proverbial ass?  Holy crap. It’s a doozy.

So responsibility begets accountability begets accessibility to the idea that I can be more. Do more. Achieve more. And recovery (you inanimate thing that I have personified so often), I thank you. Recovery. It’ll love you back.

This was poignant and beautifully written by writer extraordinaire Kristina Farrow.  For those of you on Facebook please check out her writings. Kristina’s Poems, Prose and Philosophy. (yes that is a link. yes click it)

May we always remember where we came from.

Poem two is called glimmer. Of hope of what could be … of what could happen. The lifting up of one’s head to see… the ‘be’ that could.  What happened. And the author? You know her. You read her here. (and it is epically creepy when I speak of myself in the third person. bleck) Yeah I wrote it. It’s … palatable. *wink*

Poem three? Well that is my favorite poet of all.  He’s began writing years ago and recently returned to the ‘scene’.  He is a wordsmith of great prowess and I adore him. (In more ways than one.) Anyhow enough mush.  THIS is what exemplifies “what it is like now” for me.  He’s a lyrical rockstar.   You can find his word mastery HERE (yes another link sheesh) on his facebook page.  You won’t be disappointed.

So … what it was like, what happened, what it’s like today. Poetry style.

Givin up

Daddy, I been drinkin,
drinkin more and more,
you told me to be careful.

But, I’m not careful anymore.

Daddy, you once asked me,
if I awake with my hands
shakin, and I do, and worse.

My stomach’s sick all the time.

Daddy you told me about
our genes, how it could
ruin my life, destroy me.

I’m not writin poetry anymore.

Daddy, I been drinkin and
thinkin about the hard stuff,
wonderin what I’m gonna do.

Every day, I give it up.

Can’t blame you, Daddy.
You told me don’t with love,
never told me not to though.

I love you, Daddy, so so much.

Daddy, I been drinkin,
and it’s just because
I’m so so cold and dead.

I’m dead inside like you.

Daddy, I been drinkin
a long time, makin it all
secret, even from you.

Daddy, I feel I’m through,
done, the pain you warned
me of got the best of me.

You were right, Daddy. Drinkin’s won.

~ written by Kristina Farrow ~

glimmer.

a panacea of promise

awaits your permission

fertile ground has been sown

superseding inquisition

for the beauty in you

shines through like the dawn

promise of a resurrection

soul connection fire within

indecision filtered as a pawn

divinity genuflected incentive

directive of a glimmer reborn

torn from hatred’s ashes spawned

rebirth breaks predisposition

arcadian rhythm of macabre

effacing sprite of self spite is gone

cyclical radiant inflorescence

cadence of self love restored

hope heals your heart back to won

~ written by a.G.~

Average Comfortability (or; the not so vicious wishes of St. Francis)

Life’s enhanced when we are giving

instead of wanting.

It’s more important to get it

than to get gotten.

It’s in the act of forgiving

that we are forgiven.

Most things are better remembered

than forgotten.

All it really takes to be a part of

is to flip a single script of just one word.

Valleys from the mountains,

one letter upside down and

Me turns into We

and we are found.

Comparing similarities

instead of accentuating disparities

finding common ground

and accepting our average.

In the middle of the mean,

not high or low just in between,

on the level

is where we find our leverage.

Just the same as, not exalted

not accepting blame or being faulted

but exactly where we’re supposed to be.

Finding our place of comfort in

the skin that we’ve been given

and knowing that when alone

we’re in good company.

So from our doubt we discover faith,

we provide love to replace the hate

and offer up some peace in the face of war.

Substitute joy for sadness,

cast some light into the darkness

so all can see what life is truly for.

~ written by Scott Dean ~

(all poems posted with permission. duh. of course i asked. sheesh. thanks my friends *mwah* you amaze me everyday)