Friday, July 16, 2010

Ever since the time I went from a drug experimenter, to a drug addict, the only thing I could trust myself to do was anything that would bring me more drugs.

I purposely cut off every one who I loved and cared for me for fear my addiction would break our relationship. I have put a strain on, been cut off from, and banished even from friends who have never experienced my addiction side effects.

My last stint off the wagon was was pretty hardcore. I probably only used less than ten times (crystal- meth) since last October but the amount was way way over board. And I would wish I was sober ten minutes after each "flight" and leAve and or kick hook ups out no more than twenty minutes after they had arrived. I would then get In Bed for two Weeks or more only leaving to go to the bathroom and then when I slept.

I'd have nightmares and flashbacks of childhood trauma. My bed was the only place I could trust myself not to have addict behavior. But the come down dreams brought up in vivid detail every thing I was running away from.

As I lay there for weeks on end I wouldn't have to block out my inner voice telling me the right next thing to do. I knew and have lived in this moment many times before and it wasn't time for listening to lectures from myself to myself it was time to plan and take action. The only thing my inner voice would say is

"Your still wallowing In self pity while there are people dying everyday who don't have right now to do the next right thing."

They lost their battle against addiction and never got the chance to learn how to live in recovery and deal with the crazy sober people who might have helped drive them to use In The first place ( I.E. Un-accepting parents, family secrets, ect. Ect.) I ask my self,

"is it the disease of addiction that's untrustworthy or is it me? And are my relapses helped by my lack of trust in myself?"

Not trusting myself is another way of expecting myself to fail.

And failing is not an option!

This morning I found out that a young gay man that I mentored for over two years killed himself. The last time I spoke to him he was crying on the phone and he believed that there was no other option than to die or use , and he knew that they both were the same thing.

I live today,

sober

as much for him as I do for myself! I've been where he was a couple of times in my life. And only by the grace of that multiple named high power that some call GOD others Allah ect

. I am here today and I know who am and the direction I must take to do the next right thing just for today!

I trust me to work it cause it only works when I do!

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Brothers and Sisters

For some reason I decided to watch the finale of "Brothers and Sisters" I knew how it was going to end but up until this night I had yet to go through the journey of how theses characters got to that ending.

Sooooooo much was packed into this episode from a former addict learning to love and trust his partner to a man finding out he is HIV positive to a grown child dealing with the a mother who spends more time telling others how to live that she hardly spends time on her own. (To the death of Rob Lowes career)(I mean did he not learn anything from leaving West Wing and headlined his own drama that lasted three episodes)

Uhg, needless to say I was crying in the end, this family drama resonated for me because I'm spending quality time with my family. I've been here for two weeks. That's about the amount of time, if you put my one day visits together from the past 20 years that I've spent here over all.

I realized that I've always felt alone in life even surrounded by family and friends. Very rarely did I ever feel understood or genuinely cared for, but I know for certain that I am loved and cared for and an apple right next to the family tree! Now the way in which this love is displayed I can see now reflex how my family was taught to show love and growing up in the mid 1900's for a black family on the North/South border I dont think that learning how to show some one love was a high priority when you got to fight to get what you can get and bite your tongue so you don't end up in jail and do your chores so you don't have to go out back to find a switch on the tree.

Finding a switch on the tree out back> This was love> God said don't spare the rod!

Having parents who teach you the right way to live by always letting you know when your doing the wrong thing.

But we knew and my elders knew that our family would be there to fight who ever messed with us, to stick up for us, and pick us up when we were down. But they would let us know we got learn to stick up for ourselves and take care of ourselves.

Tough Love.

I get it, but sometimes, I need a love that isn't so tough, sometimes I need sensitivity and understanding, sometimes I need support for the things I've done right instead of constantly being reminded of what's wrong in my life. '

I must admit I've shut my family out most of my life. And though I still believe it was the only way for me to not have killed myself as a child (not for lack of trying) With out my family I would be lost, I couldn't possible understand who I am, and how to get to the positive side of my journey.
Their door is always open!

And though that tree in the back is gone, no one in this family is too old to be put across a knee.

I can see where I get most of my traits, and I understand a bit better who I am from where I come from.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

The First Punch

I dont have Tv at home so in Lancaster Ive been re-introduced to LOGOTV by my Aunt Carla. A women who's love of men is almost as potent as mine. (or use to be LOL). I'm watching a story about a boy in the UK living in a small town (like Lancaster PA) and is teased for his feminine ways. His peers thought it would be funny to vote him queen of the town fair and he won and they teased and teased but with the love of his mother and with strength with in his self he road in the parade and the teasing stopped for five minutes.

Growing up in a small town I remember being teased in the third grade for what some of my mothers 'Man friends' use to call sissyfied (usually when she left the room). The class was on a trip to the Charles Chips Factory and three boys who tried to make my life hell by teasing me (I dont remember it affecting me till this field trip.

"Your a Girl" they screamed across the yellow bus seats.

This was an hour bus ride of hearing how much of a girl and how "gay", (A word a did not understand till the ninth grade).

As soon as the bus stopped in the Charles Chips Factory

something swelled up inside of me

and I looked at those three boys

watched their mouths move to the tune of what a girl I was

and My fist started to swell

Little Third Grader Shareef threw one punch at the fist boy who ducked and my fist landed on the the boy with the braces on his legs (Like Forrest Gump).

Mrs. Manners (our third grade teacher) came to the middle of the bus where we were sitting
grabbed my ear pulled me to the back of the bus and said,

"You Hit the crippled boy! Shareef Jenkins your going to sit here for the whole entire trip, and I'm calling your mother!"

Shareef strikes back! what I thought I did. I remember just reacting and throwing a punch. But I wasn't reacting to what was being said I was reacting to the fact that I was being taunted and by three boys who were making me very aware that I was in some way different than them.

At that point I didn't know how I was different, I don't think I even believed that I was different. I don't think I even had a concept of the difference in Skin color. But I knew that I was being disrespected in some way and

I WAS a MAD third grader AND I JUST WOULDN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

and I exploded with rage.

Just telling the story I can still feel the passion that I had that day.

When we got back I was to be suspended from school for three days, But having a black mother who sticks up for her "sissified" chile (mostly by denying his sissyfiedness)

She marched in the principles office and demanded to know how if it takes two to tango why would you only reprimand one?

"Discrimination!" and "My lawyer.."

words that a black parent in a white school should have readily at there disposal especially in a circumstance that it is actual and factually the situation.

I learned a couple of things about myself that day in the third grade. I looked at myself in the mirror for the fist time and started to look at the boys around me for the first time and asked myself how am I different and why, and I never thought twice about defending myself when I "FELT" not petty teasing but when I felt that I was being violated by some one from that moment on I retaliated and I couldn't control it.

But what fascinates me about the kid on Logo and the battles in my child hood was violence was never the first or fifth choice in my retaliation especially after I was less ignorant about who I was and what the word "Gay" meant.

Thats another story!

Monday, July 5, 2010

Back to work

With the biggest learned life lesson being, "The place your most afraid of going, usually is the one and only place that can heal yourself" I decided to go to Lancaster Pa., the place I was born staying with the family that answers the the question, "Who am I and Where do I come from".

What a sentence that was!

Today is day 11. I do not recomend sobering up with family I think its forced me to face some things head on and really ask myself how far am I willing to go this time. My sponsor would say "One day at a time Shareef" and I get it it makes sense, but part of my healing is bringing myself physically to the place where the root of my pain began. And not only the root but the history and domino effect passed down from generation to generation so I can learn, "What ab out my negative living was learned at home and what part did I get from the world?" And then I'll have a better idea of how to deal with living with my self as myself.

I'm contemplating no sex for a year, "One Day at a time"! may just 90's.

My last attempt at being completely sober lasted for 9 months and I did a multi-prong system, therapy, Na, and CMA meetings, and service, and regular outings with my sober friends.

There is a power greater than me that has let me know over this last binge that I am worth it, I'm hear for a reason and I have yet to complete my destiny.

So ya better watch out cause I'm going back to work (on myself)