Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Back story...

Hello my name is Jeremy and I am an alcoholic and an addict...

Everyone in the room says: Hello Jeremy

******************************

I've NEVER shared this story here before...

I drank for a long time, many years, I had the practice down well. Y'all know what happened in 1993 and 1994 so I won't rehash it. I was sober for 4 years 1994-1998. Lonely and looking for love I pulled a geographic to Hell to be with another like me. I had moved from Big City to Gravel Road hell. I picked up and started using, why, because he did... Stupid I know...

18 months went by and the addiction has caused him to stop taking meds He was Poz too, fancy that, and a huge addict and he was bi-polar - not taking his meds to boot... That's the power of addiction. So we used together - what choice did I have I was stuck in the middle of But-fuck Egypt !!!

He was violent and momma and daddy showered him with ENABLING - but they protected me when he beat me, they knew full well what was going on and they tried to help, they failed. I was no longer on friendly soil. My life became their fuel to judge me. And I was crazy???

Over 18 months the abuse got worse. The beatings at drug addicted hands was getting insane. We had moved from point A to point B, where we were farther from the farm and my safety space was now running down the street for my life. There was no place to hide any more.

One night he came home from a whiskey night tripping because he had taken all of his drugs and was looking for a smoke - which there were none left. I was sleeping. He had put a knife to my throat and then started kicking me until I was on the floor where he continued to kick my face until I was bleeding. In the back of this story was a friend who knew what was going on and he sent me a bus ticket to "Get Out." I called the cops, they told me to pack ONLY what I could carry that the rest would stay here, I had 20 minutes to gather what I could and let's go.

2 duffle bags and my backpack AND my bible later, they loaded me into the coach and we were off. All of my memories, trinkets and heirlooms - my music videos - furniture - books and clothing, not to mention everything else that I had owned (my entire life) was gone.

I've NEVER attempted to get these things back - ever...

I had no idea what I looked like - until along the bus ride I was hiding in a bathroom for my own safety, I was sure he was following me, I looked in a mirror. My face was black and blue my eyes were fractured out, I was bloody and a mess, and nobody thought to help clean me up for the journey that I was on, needless to say that those on the bus avioded me for good reason, in hindsight.

18 hours later I was in a new state far far away from where I had been, I was picked up by my friend who ran a safehouse. They took me there and bathed me and fed me some food. They took me down to my room and gave me a bed to sleep in and left me alone. I think I slept for a week before I came to.

The family that owned the house adopted me as one of their own. We dined together and talked alot. It took a month for my face to return to normal and for my heart and soul to heal to where I knew I would survive this trauma that almost killed me. A month later at that point I was ready to move on. I returned to Miami - which is where this all started to rebuild. I was an East Coast boy who needs my ocean and the sand right?

I'm a WATER person !!

6 days on a greyhound bus is amazing, if you've never done a cross country ride...

I'll never do that again!

I was agoraphobic by that time. I wouldn't go out alone. I had a friend who was a cop who shadowed me for weeks, until I was able to go out on my own. I got therapy and found a woman who worked me out of the house in steps. When I moved, I would sit on the front porch of my building until it got comfortable. Little by slowly I worked my way by walking around the block and even farther from home. (I was living on the beach then) I got to the point where I would GO to the beach by myself. Then the rest was taking back my life, which I did. Over a long period of time. That's when I was introduced to the "Boy who lived." My therapist believed in "the whatever works method." So it went... reading was my salvation... not to mention God.

I was binge drinking at this point even though therapy was working. Binge drinking became blackout drinking... (See when does a boy become a man) earlier posted last week or so. I got sober in 2001 (December 9th 2001) ...

4 months into my sobriety I was called to be where I live today. The calling was so strong from
God that I had no reason to question it. I just went where I was called. A few months later I met a boy - well - I walked by a boy, who caught my eye. I was coming - he was going. Luckily we kept "bumping into each other" contuinually, Montreal AA is a small city. We went out for coffee and cake and we dated for a while - then the dating became cohabitating. One thing led to another and we stayed together because we saw "eye to eye" spiritually. We took care of each other, eventually he got sick. I chose NOT to run, but stand by him and take care of him.

I practice the fine art of compassion for others even when I have none to give, I at least try to the best of my ability to stay above the water when I am floundering. Anyways, a long time later and alot of drugs and darkness, he got better. That was the moment I took to ask him to marry me. Novemeber 20th 2004, we got married. We spoke words we wrote ourselves.

Now after 18 months the writing is on the wall and I cannot fix the problem, he has to take steps to care for his illness. But marriage is something TWO people work at. Not just one. I read alot of Buddhist writing like the Dalai Lama and I meditate. Last night I did some reading about altruism and compassion for others. And I must admit I am compassionate. Mental illness is not something to scoff at or dismiss, because left untreated becomes detrimental to human life. I may piss and moan about mental and emotional abuse, and I can attribute that to HIS illness not his inability to step up. We talked a long time last night and we sorted out a plan of action. Which began today with a visit to the shrink for him, to see what they could do to get that rat off the wheel in his head so he can relax and start the mending process. I can deal with solutions.

There are always solutions...
I may not be proud of my reactions and anger
But I am only human

I'm not ready to walk away - I fought to keep him alive then and I will FIGHT to keep him alive this time. Because I do love and I can rise above this and learn how to be a better - man - for all that is happening. There is a lesson for me here too, right? Meditate on the Buddah - read your books - talk to others - and get out of yourself by helping another human being on THE WALK with you, she might learn from you how to get out and Take Back Her Life - from those who would rob her of it. Pray angel Girl - God is listening.

In my hour of need - in the deepest darkest moment of my life
I knelt before God and I prayed two simple words...
Abba Father...
I cried and he heard my prayer
I prayed and he listened
He replied, I am here my sons and daughters
In the darkest moments it is I that carry you in my arms...
Be still and know...

Please respect Privacy Laws and
The Quebec Civil Code...

3 Comments:

Blogger Beverly said...

smiling

5:29 PM  
Blogger Beverly said...

"Angel girl"... I like that. Man, what a life..I am so sorry Jeremy. You are precious and its gold that you are my friend now...

5:47 PM  
Blogger Scott said...

Can I just say, as someone who loves that Angel girl very much, you're just about my favorite person on earth today, Jeremy! Thank you for sharing this here AND on her blog.

7:35 PM  

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