I'm not really sure what I'm doing today. I know what I don't wanna do, and that's walk downtown again.
I don't mind walking downtown for a meeting, if I have something plained, or if somebody needs help, but The "walking downtown because I'm board" phase has passed. It's a long walk, and it was neat at first but now it just leaves me tired and cranky.
I've got a whole list of things that I should get done, but my list of things that I need to get done are more important, and the fact that I have things at the house that I would like to take care of basically means that I don't really have time to be board anymore.
The only thing I'd change about my life at the moment? Interaction with other people I think. I spend a lot of time doing my own thing, which at the moment is cool because I've got things I've got'a get done, but it's really easy for me to get lonely at the moment.
Oh well, such is life, and all in all it's a great life at the moment.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
The Love Of Money
So I know I was kinda filling in a few of the things that have happened in my life between my last post back in 2010 and now, but something accrued to me in the shower that's kinda worth saying something about I think. (I guess something worth noting is that I do a lot of my praying in the shower.)
So after picking up a lot of information in the Christian based rehab programs that I joined, and with the things that I'm learning while I'm just going to meetings and actually hearing what people have to say, I'm picking up this general vibe that being of service to our fellow man is kinda the key to happiness.
I really had this huge understanding of that concept while talking to my sponsor the other night. We got on the topic of Jesus washing His disciples feet and the thought had been going around in my head for a few days, and the closest thing I could come to as an understanding of what was going on there is that God has always taken care of us.
(Now is a good time to address the fact that this is only what I believe, I could be wrong, and this information is only gonna be palatable for believers, and not even all believers are gonna agree.)
God created the universe, the heaves and the earth... And who did He put in charge of the earth? Who did He kinda "gift" with the honor of taking care of earth? Who gets the most enjoyment out of the beauty of the night sky?
The thought was "God is God, He needs for nothing.. So then why all this? Why the heavens and the earth? Why not just sit around and be happy to be God?"
The only answer I could come up with is that He likes to give us things, even tho He is the ruler of everything, needs for nothing, and knows everything there could ever been known, He still services us because that's the best way.
To truly be of service is what gives meaning and purpose to life. Being God, having authority over the heavens and the earth, having the ability to do whatever you want, and washing your servants feet... and what's more meaningful about that situation, your servants letting you wash their feet.
The reason I named this post "The Love Of Money", and the problem I realized in the shower is that most people don't really want you to help them, they want you to give them money. They'll solve all their problems on their own, they just need money. (Or so they think.)
With the kinda life I've lived, the things I've done, the highs and lows of all of it, one things I know for sure... money doesn't solve anything.
The statement "but you NEED money" gets to me so bad, because I can't think of a single time in my history where money has done anything positive for me aside from given me the ability to pay bills that only existed because of the existence of money. When I hear somebody say "but you need money" it takes so much for me to hold back the reply "NO! You NEED God!! That's IT! There's nothing in this world that money could do for you, that God couldn't do ten times better!"
Then the "beliefs" conversation starts, faith is thrown out the window, and it becomes Money VS God... and I've got'a keep my mouth shut or I because the stupid kid that doesn't know what he's talking about...
Oh well such is life, and I feel a little better after writing this, but I have a feeling it's not gonna make a difference :t
So after picking up a lot of information in the Christian based rehab programs that I joined, and with the things that I'm learning while I'm just going to meetings and actually hearing what people have to say, I'm picking up this general vibe that being of service to our fellow man is kinda the key to happiness.
I really had this huge understanding of that concept while talking to my sponsor the other night. We got on the topic of Jesus washing His disciples feet and the thought had been going around in my head for a few days, and the closest thing I could come to as an understanding of what was going on there is that God has always taken care of us.
(Now is a good time to address the fact that this is only what I believe, I could be wrong, and this information is only gonna be palatable for believers, and not even all believers are gonna agree.)
God created the universe, the heaves and the earth... And who did He put in charge of the earth? Who did He kinda "gift" with the honor of taking care of earth? Who gets the most enjoyment out of the beauty of the night sky?
The thought was "God is God, He needs for nothing.. So then why all this? Why the heavens and the earth? Why not just sit around and be happy to be God?"
The only answer I could come up with is that He likes to give us things, even tho He is the ruler of everything, needs for nothing, and knows everything there could ever been known, He still services us because that's the best way.
To truly be of service is what gives meaning and purpose to life. Being God, having authority over the heavens and the earth, having the ability to do whatever you want, and washing your servants feet... and what's more meaningful about that situation, your servants letting you wash their feet.
The reason I named this post "The Love Of Money", and the problem I realized in the shower is that most people don't really want you to help them, they want you to give them money. They'll solve all their problems on their own, they just need money. (Or so they think.)
With the kinda life I've lived, the things I've done, the highs and lows of all of it, one things I know for sure... money doesn't solve anything.
The statement "but you NEED money" gets to me so bad, because I can't think of a single time in my history where money has done anything positive for me aside from given me the ability to pay bills that only existed because of the existence of money. When I hear somebody say "but you need money" it takes so much for me to hold back the reply "NO! You NEED God!! That's IT! There's nothing in this world that money could do for you, that God couldn't do ten times better!"
Then the "beliefs" conversation starts, faith is thrown out the window, and it becomes Money VS God... and I've got'a keep my mouth shut or I because the stupid kid that doesn't know what he's talking about...
Oh well such is life, and I feel a little better after writing this, but I have a feeling it's not gonna make a difference :t
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
A different life
I kinda looked over my last post and... wow... I mean wow...
I guess it's nice to look back and see what my life was like, and it's a little awkward to remember that part of my life and that I was at the time;
"This is as good as it gets, it may get a little better years from now, but as for now, this is as good as it gets."
I'm not saying there was anything wrong with that part of my life, I enjoyed it as much as I could I guess, but honestly compared to what my life is like today, that was no way to live. It's nobody's fault but my own, it's obvious what my Higher Power was at the time and no surprise that I went back to my old ways shortly after writing that post...
A few highlights to hit from there to here; I fell off long before I got caught falling off. I quit my job, got high while I was babysitting Alisha's child, went to jail, went to rehab, went back to jail, went to another rehab, fought with every fiber of my being that one day I might get Alisha back and tried to accept the reality that that was never going to happen.
9 months of self inflicted torture.
December rolled around, and despite all the love and support I got from my family and friends, regardless of the pride I could have taken from the fact that I made it past the death of my grandfather without using, and even with all the help around me that I could have used to get me past the situation... I wasn't getting a card from her, so what the fuck did any of it matter?
I went around town huffing paint thinner, in and out of blackouts, hating the world... With two thoughts in my head;
1. I really hope Jesus love's me like everybody has been ranting about, because nobody can.
2. I hope I don't jump off a bridge in a black out.
Sometime later in December, I woke up out of a comma in a hospital. I had no idea what was going on or why my arm was broken in 3 different places or why I had staples in my head.
Half in half out, I talked to my mom on the phone and she told me that I had jumped off a bridge.. My first thought was "figures, had a feeling that was gonna happen."
Even that wasn't what it took for me to realize that the happiness I got from huffing paint thinner maybe two or three times in my life wasn't worth the pain that doing it always seemed to cause. (Me, and everybody that's involved in my life.)
It went on pointlessly for days, thinking that the first thought I had while I was walking around town didn't matter.
Then it just hit me, I wanted to stop more then I wanted to go steal more to get high again. The urge to stop only lasted a moment, but that was all the time I needed to start thinking about a few other things to combat the thought that I'd never be able to stop huffing paint thinner.
The thoughts started slipping in, and I just ran with them.
1. I shouldn't be alive, how the hell did I live after a 15 foot drop onto my skull?
2. How the hell did I live after all the crazy shit I've done?
3. Why the hell am I not brain dead? I've been huffing paint thinner on and off for 16 years, why am I not brain dead yet?
4. God has to be real, the stories I've herd for years have to be real because there's no other explanation. Somebody with superhuman powers has to be looking after me, because I've been trying to kill myself for years, and I mean really trying not just cries for help... yet I'm still alive...
I decided that I'd quite, I'd just stop. I'd lay in bed for a while until I got to feeling better, then once I got healthy again I'd get up and start looking for work.
For 24 hours I laid in bed unable to sleep, and I had the craziest thoughts I'd ever had in my life. (One thought that I kept having over and over again was that somebody was gonna come in the room and stab me for no reason, or beat me to death with a baseball bat while I was asleep.)
I couldn't take it anymore. After laying in bed for over 24 hours, somebody knocked on my door and I thought "This is it, clean 24 hours and somebody's going to kill me, I knew this was going to happen."
I had no idea what was gonna happen, or what was even going on, but the guy that knocked on my door said "Hey, come check this out, I bet you've never seen anything like this before!"
Sicker then anything I'd ever been in my life, I followed the guy into the backyard convinced that he was going to kill me, and berry my body back there.
I followed him with a pale look on my face, and some really twisted thoughts.
As we walked out the back door, he said "check that moon out" and looked up. I looked, and the moon was blood red. (12/21/2010)
The only thought I had after that was "Oh shit, He's real..."
I walked around for the rest of the night with the guy, waiting for God to strike me down for all that crap I've done in my life... but He never did.
After we walked down to the store to get the guy I was living with some more beer, I did everything I could to keep my thoughts from coming out of my mouth...
After we got home, I said that I was going to bed, walked in my room, dropped to my knees, and begged God to help me. I admitted his existence and that I knew I could never turn from Him again. I asked what I had to do, and the answer I got was a lot simpler then I thought it would be... It was as simple as "Go to a meeting."
I didn't like the idea, but that one meeting started a chain reaction that hasn't stopped.
HAHA my hands are tired, and I need to get to another meeting, but I'll write more later, I just wanted to get that much out for now.
I guess it's nice to look back and see what my life was like, and it's a little awkward to remember that part of my life and that I was at the time;
"This is as good as it gets, it may get a little better years from now, but as for now, this is as good as it gets."
I'm not saying there was anything wrong with that part of my life, I enjoyed it as much as I could I guess, but honestly compared to what my life is like today, that was no way to live. It's nobody's fault but my own, it's obvious what my Higher Power was at the time and no surprise that I went back to my old ways shortly after writing that post...
A few highlights to hit from there to here; I fell off long before I got caught falling off. I quit my job, got high while I was babysitting Alisha's child, went to jail, went to rehab, went back to jail, went to another rehab, fought with every fiber of my being that one day I might get Alisha back and tried to accept the reality that that was never going to happen.
9 months of self inflicted torture.
December rolled around, and despite all the love and support I got from my family and friends, regardless of the pride I could have taken from the fact that I made it past the death of my grandfather without using, and even with all the help around me that I could have used to get me past the situation... I wasn't getting a card from her, so what the fuck did any of it matter?
I went around town huffing paint thinner, in and out of blackouts, hating the world... With two thoughts in my head;
1. I really hope Jesus love's me like everybody has been ranting about, because nobody can.
2. I hope I don't jump off a bridge in a black out.
Sometime later in December, I woke up out of a comma in a hospital. I had no idea what was going on or why my arm was broken in 3 different places or why I had staples in my head.
Half in half out, I talked to my mom on the phone and she told me that I had jumped off a bridge.. My first thought was "figures, had a feeling that was gonna happen."
Even that wasn't what it took for me to realize that the happiness I got from huffing paint thinner maybe two or three times in my life wasn't worth the pain that doing it always seemed to cause. (Me, and everybody that's involved in my life.)
It went on pointlessly for days, thinking that the first thought I had while I was walking around town didn't matter.
Then it just hit me, I wanted to stop more then I wanted to go steal more to get high again. The urge to stop only lasted a moment, but that was all the time I needed to start thinking about a few other things to combat the thought that I'd never be able to stop huffing paint thinner.
The thoughts started slipping in, and I just ran with them.
1. I shouldn't be alive, how the hell did I live after a 15 foot drop onto my skull?
2. How the hell did I live after all the crazy shit I've done?
3. Why the hell am I not brain dead? I've been huffing paint thinner on and off for 16 years, why am I not brain dead yet?
4. God has to be real, the stories I've herd for years have to be real because there's no other explanation. Somebody with superhuman powers has to be looking after me, because I've been trying to kill myself for years, and I mean really trying not just cries for help... yet I'm still alive...
I decided that I'd quite, I'd just stop. I'd lay in bed for a while until I got to feeling better, then once I got healthy again I'd get up and start looking for work.
For 24 hours I laid in bed unable to sleep, and I had the craziest thoughts I'd ever had in my life. (One thought that I kept having over and over again was that somebody was gonna come in the room and stab me for no reason, or beat me to death with a baseball bat while I was asleep.)
I couldn't take it anymore. After laying in bed for over 24 hours, somebody knocked on my door and I thought "This is it, clean 24 hours and somebody's going to kill me, I knew this was going to happen."
I had no idea what was gonna happen, or what was even going on, but the guy that knocked on my door said "Hey, come check this out, I bet you've never seen anything like this before!"
Sicker then anything I'd ever been in my life, I followed the guy into the backyard convinced that he was going to kill me, and berry my body back there.
I followed him with a pale look on my face, and some really twisted thoughts.
As we walked out the back door, he said "check that moon out" and looked up. I looked, and the moon was blood red. (12/21/2010)
The only thought I had after that was "Oh shit, He's real..."
I walked around for the rest of the night with the guy, waiting for God to strike me down for all that crap I've done in my life... but He never did.
After we walked down to the store to get the guy I was living with some more beer, I did everything I could to keep my thoughts from coming out of my mouth...
After we got home, I said that I was going to bed, walked in my room, dropped to my knees, and begged God to help me. I admitted his existence and that I knew I could never turn from Him again. I asked what I had to do, and the answer I got was a lot simpler then I thought it would be... It was as simple as "Go to a meeting."
I didn't like the idea, but that one meeting started a chain reaction that hasn't stopped.
HAHA my hands are tired, and I need to get to another meeting, but I'll write more later, I just wanted to get that much out for now.
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