Ten days before Andrea and I started speaking to one another, rather than just knowing one another was probably one of the toughest times of my life.  A little before the first of the year, I had decided that doping was not the way I wanted to spend my life.  So, I proceeded to lock myself in my room and sweat, shake, cry, vomit, scream, vomit some more, and just want to die in general.  On the 12th, I decided to go out to get a beer, to take the edge off.  (Ha)  I ended up running into some “friends” of mine.  One being my dealer, who was obviously really missing my daily financial contribution of about 150 bucks.  So, she decided that she would give me some “free dope”.  One rule.  There really is no such thing as free dope.  It’s just a ploy to get you hooked, either again, or for the first time.  But, I took it.

That night, a friend who had no where to live asked if she could crash at my house.  I didn’t mind, I had an extra room, so what the heck?  Right?  When we got to my house, she started wigging out.  I was saying goodbye to another friend, and as I spun around to see what her problem was, I see a 4 foot long Red Bull mirror being swung at my face.  I didn’t even have time to react.  It just hit me.  I stumbled backwords, feeling the blood running down my face.  I didn’t know if glass had caught my eye or what, so I just stumbled around.

I heard a scream, I opened my eyes, she had grabbed a broken piece of glass and had her sights set on me.  Next thing I knew, I had been stabbed in the stomach, and was being cut all over with this piece of glass.  The only thing going through my mind was my mom’s voice.  “I don’t care what happens. Never.  Ever.  EVER hit a woman.” I was trying to figure out what I could do without hitting this girl.

Finally, I was able to grab her arms. (by now, both hands had pieces of glass, covered in my blood.)  I spun her around, and she stumbled to the ground.  I immediately sat on her.  Holding her arms with my knees.  I sat there for about 20 minutes while she kicked and screamed.  Finally she fell asleep.

Looking back, I assume she was wigging out on dope.  At the time, I just thought someone wanted me dead. After she fell asleep, I got up, stumbled to my bed, still bleeding and laid down.   (It was about 3:00 am on January 13th. A friday)

That morning, I was being poked.  I woke up to see a sherrif hovering over my bed.  I immediatly realized that my room probably looked like a murder scene.  But that is not why he was there.  His mission for the day was to evict my family.  yay.  I helped move some of the breakables out. (The guys that move you out don’t pay much attention to fragile stickers.  I had learned this two evictions ago.) After an hour of helping, I had to get to work.  I got a ride in, and when I got there, my boss handed me my last check, and told me I couldn’t work there anymore, and I that I needed to get help.  wow.  I knew today was not going to be a good day.  I got a ride back to my [former] house.  I got my dad.  I loaded him, and his wheelchair and my brother up, took them to a pay by the night, extended stay hotel.  I paid for two weeks, and I left.

With the rest of my money I went out, bought a mass quantity of dope, and alcohol.  Thinking back, I don’t believe I had intended to live past that night.  I went into the bathroom at the bar and did the entire bag of dope.  I paid the bartender, and stumbled out the door.  I walked up highway 78 a couple of miles and stumbled into the woods.  Laid down, and went to sleep.  I don’t know how long I was “asleep” but something woke me up, and I had an urge to live.  I walked to a gas station, stole a beanie hat, walked around back, to an outdoor bathroom, locked the door, and curled up.  That is where I spend the rest of my night.  That is also where I spent the next few nights, without drugs.  Without anything but time to think.  That, to me, was rock bottom.

I went back to my dad’s hotel room.  He let me crash on the floor.  The day before my birthday I went out, just for beer.  Still sobering up.  And got arrested for driving under the influence. When I got out of jail, I got on my dad’s laptop, got online, and sure enough, the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth was online.  I chatted her.  She informed me that she was supposed to be at my surprise party, that was called off, because I was in jail.  We haven’t gone but a few days without talking since that day.  A few months after starting to talk to her, I accepted Jesus Christ into my heart.  My life has NEVER been the same.

I count my sober day as January 13th.  That was the last day I ever did drugs.  Ever.  It took me a while to realize alcohol was also a problem, but I realized it.  Thank God!

I look back at these days, and just can’t believe it.  Two days ago, Andrea and I were kind of freaking out about having to take money out of our savings.  OUR SAVINGS!  Praise God that we have a SAVINGS!  Two or three years ago that was non existent!  I am a completely different person and there is no one to thank for that but Jesus Christ!   Really, it’s….. it’s…… beyond words.

Thank You God!

I believe God pulled me

Last night I taught youth group for the first time in about a year.  A year ago, Andrea and I “took a break”.  Probably had something to do with me deciding I was not an alcoholic, so I could drink when I wanted, and Andrea had some personal things she had to take care of.  It happens.  During the time we were broken up, I struggled.  I struggled a lot.

Through some major relapses, some bad decisions and crazy thoughts, I decided that I probably shouldn’t be talking to teenagers on how they should follow Christ.  It was hard for me to talk about that because I wasn’t following Him.  I think everyone had decided I shouldn’t talk anymore before I did.  Which is fine.  I shouldn’t have been talking.

Last night was amazing.  I think it was the first time in a long time, if not ever, that I felt I did a good job.  I was not nervous, I don’t feel like I just talked and talked for no reason, and I had a chance to share one of my (many) stories.  I think the kids received me well, and really listened to what I had to say.  Or, what God had to say through me.  Possibly ironic I was talking about the Prodigal Son.  I look at it as a blessing.  After being a prodigal son myself, I was able to come home and say, “I just want to be your servant.”  After being the older brother, I was able to realize, whatever he has to offer is mine, and there is NO reason to be angry or resentful.

I don’t know if I reached anyone, or hit a nerve in someone deep down that broke a silent treatment they were giving God.  But I do know last night was probably better for me than any of them.  I got a sense of life back.  I realized last night that I am not ‘back’.  But now, I am here more than ever.  God has really shined down on my life in the past 7 or 8 months, and I feel like a bazillion bucks.

To top it off, I want to say, I love my youth group.  These kids are amazing, Andrea is great with them, George, my roommate/friend/pastor at my wedding is awesome with them and I feel good about where we are heading.

In this time where nothing is certain with the state of our church building, I feel a HUGE community of love and faith.  It all makes sense now.  No walls could contain our love.  No walls can contain our worship.  No walls can/or should contain the Body of Christ.  It’s an amazing feeling.  The feeling of going from being broken, beaten, defeated, and torn, to restored, free, loved, and redeemed!

Thank you Jesus!

Growing up, I had a group of friends that I would constitute as my “best friends”.  I met Matthew in kindergarten, under the parachute, he was about 8 feet taller than me, he walked up to me and said, “You are my best friend now.”  He was so big, I was not going to say no!  So, a friendship started.

In third grade, I met “Bobby”. (This name is protected)  I viewed him almost as a rival.  He was just as, if not more, dorky than me.  And almost as funny.  I also met Scott.   This kid was about as tall as Matthew , he was in the lunch room, and he was seeing how many chocolate milks he could drink.  I think he was somewhere around 15, and he vomited 100% pure chocolate milk all over the lunch room.  I knew we would be friends.

In fourth grade, Omar moved into my neighborhood.  He was my first “Black Friend”.  He was faster than me, better at sports than me, funnier than me, and had (has) a heart the size of Texas.  He lived in the neighbor hood with me an Matthew M.  So, we went EVERYWHERE together.

Matthew passed away five years ago on my living room couch, of a drug overdose.  He had struggled with alcohol addiction, and had come so far.  One relapse, he decided to try Cocaine, and then took pain killers to get to sleep.  Matthew was my very best friend.  I miss him terribly.

Scott told me the second day I knew him, “When I grow up, I want to be a tattoo artist.”  No joke.  I’m serious.  Through some hard times, and a lot of partying, Scott, two months ago officially became a tattoo artist.  Now that is dedication.  He is still new, but his work is really good, and I am so proud of him for making it through the rough.

Omar, his twin sister, and I are the surviving memebers of the neigborhood crew.  Most every other kid in our neighborhood died between the ages of 18 and 20.  It was rough for us, and Matthew dying was especially rough.  I think it affects him more than he will ever admit.  He works a lot, which is understandable.  It’s not that he needs the money, but hardwork keeps the mind busy, so not to distract with sad thoughts, and memories of friends, come and gone.  I miss Omar, he is rarely around, but when he is, we pick up right where we left off, and our friendship will never die.  I wish I could see him more.

Bobby.  ahh. Bobby.  We have gone through so much together.  On my 22nd birthday, I hadn’t seen him in years.  I was living at a bar, literally, because I had no where else to go.  He wandered in that night, saw the spot I was in, and immediately, packed his car with my stuff, took me to his house, and let me live there.  We both had our problems, and my addiction became the source of everything crazy.  I moved out, and back in with my dad when my mom died and we split paths.

He works in the bar scene.  He’s addicted.  I went to see him Friday.  I cried.  I literally cried, right there in the middle of the bar.  I miss my friend.  I hate seeing him like that.  There is nothing I can say to make him see it differently.  I feel hopeless.  I feel like I am watching him go down a path I have been down, and I can’t get him to turn off of that path.  There is nothing I can do.  He weighs, no more than 100 lbs. now.  His eyes are pupils.  that’s it, just pupils.  He forgets what he is talking about.  He is not my old friend, he is just a zombie.  It kills me.

Lord I pray that You will reach down and lay a hand on “Bobby”.  He needs you.  He is hurting and there is nothing I can do.  Something needs to happen.  Something needs to save him.  That something is You Lord.  I know anything is possible through You, and I pray You can make the possible a reality.  I pray You reach all of my friends, God, and show them Your intense, insane, undying Love.  I love you God,  Please, please help them.

-Amen

My first word was “mama“. My mother was an addict. For years she struggled with everything ranging from alcohol to pain killers, From Marijuana to cocaine. We had a relationship that can’t be described. I could try, but nobody can grasp a mother and her children’s relationship unless they are involved. Most of my life we spent arguing, and I was in and out of the house. Our addictions and stubbornness clashed in a big way.

Don’t get me wrong I love my mom. I wish the entire world could have met her, so they could see first hand, that so much love, beauty, and strength only needs about five feet of woman to live. Even fighting with her addictions and Hepatitis “C” she still tried her best to keep us clothed, fed, and feeling loved. Let me say even in out biggest fights, I never felt like she didn’t love me

When it seemed like no one else was there, I could always count on my mom. My biological dad left, and my mom worked as a server to take care of, and support me and my eldest sister. What a woman. My only regret is not being there when things got tough for her, as she was for me. Imagine if she had her children to hold her, to tell her she had a problem, maybe she wouldn’t have gone overboard.

My mama overdosed on June 9th, 2005. (Seen above with me, quite a few years ago)

Probably the most talked about addiction that plagues the world today is Alcohol.  This is something I struggled with for YEARS. (Some days, I still do) One day I will tell some stories, but for right now, I want to talk about the addiction side of it.  Alcohol is an addiction that can alter every aspect of some one’s life.  It did mine.

For me, it was challenging, because I didn’t ever fully realize I had a problem.  All of my friends did it, and they seemed to handle it well.  Even when I was waking up, not knowing what happened the night before, I thought that was why people drank.  To forget.  Heck.  I even woke up once in a hospital without a tongue, and still refused to acknowledge that I had a problem.

I have realized now, that I was escaping a lot.  In my life, when something went wrong, it didn’t really matter as long as I was drunk.  A disconnection from myself, my problems, and my shortcomings was probably my number one motive. Alcohol made me feel not like myself.  Because there was SO MUCH wrong with my core! I did not know what to do to fix myself, so I numbed me. I drank myself into a dark, dark corner.

For me, my personality was drinking.  That is what defined me.  That’s boring to me.  That is not who I am, and I was totally selling myself short.  Everyday of my life, I remind myself that I am worth more than that.  Way more than that. You are too.  Your friends are too.  There is SO MUCH more to life!

If you feel like you have a problem, there is something called the CAGE questionnaire, you can answer to get a better idea.  It’s 4 questions.  Answer honestly, it’s not 100% accurate, but it will help you think about it.

• Have you ever felt you needed to cut down on your drinking?
• Have people annoyed you by criticizing your drinking?
• Have you ever felt guilty about drinking?
• Have you ever felt you needed a drink first thing in the morning to steady your nerves or to get rid of a hangover?

Overcoming alcohol addiction, or alcoholism is not easy.  But fortunately there are TONS of different resources, some free, so if you or someone you know are looking for help, you don’t need to go far.  In just about every community there is something.  My number one suggestion is finding people who do care, and love you, and will hold you accountable.

Whether it’s you, or someone you know.  Whether you know you have a problem, think you have a problem, or just want to learn, the links below will help you in your journey.

Here is a website that will allow you to give yourself a test online, without having to talk to anyone.  So you can answer honestly, without feeling you are being judged, and without having to face anybody besides yourself.

Alcoholics Anonymous – You knew it was coming.  AA has the highest failure rate of any organization in the nation.  It also has the highest number of success stories.  It’s free, a support group, people who are in the same boat as you.  Maybe worse.  You never know.  On this site you can find meetings and times near you.

Celebrate Recovery is a faith based organization similar to AA.  The link above will help you find a meeting place near you.  It is also free. (And a lot of places have free dinner)

FreeVibe – Sometimes you don’t know what to do.. Sometimes you just have questions.  Maybe it’s 2:00 am.  Here is a website, with a 24/7 hotline, and a lot of useful links.

I would like to say, I am not a professional.  I am just experienced in being an addict.  Please, for your sake, research, talk to someone, find somewhere to go.  Message me.  I can find something for you.  I can find someone for you to talk to.  Please, leave me a comment, something.  Just ask.  It’s all you have to do.