Chris Christie

Okay, short rant...promise.

The discharge planning and referral process for individuals in recovery from substance abuse is shit. Politicians seem to be in agreement with the idea that "we need to address this drug epidemic" but they fail the system and the people they are claiming to help by introducing them to a vicious cycle.

A person abusing a substance comes to the decision (one they are sometimes forced into) to seek help. They call a facility or two or twenty and are introduced to there first obstacle, The insurance question. And while we all hope to believe we each have equal opportunities for treatment, if your insurance is through the state, Medicaid/Medicare... you will likely find yourself being either turned away or forced to be included on long wait lists or told to seek state and county funding. One could imagine how dried up those resources are. Okay, so you finally find a place that accepts Medicaid/ or by some miraculous chance you are provided with state/county funding. You enter treatment. Detox is 3-5 days Short term Rehab 10-14. Residential you are looking at 28 days. Some long term facilities are 60-90 days. The rare possibility that one finds a 6 month to 9 month program...well congrats to you. There are so few programs that when a person leaves the initial detoxification, they are immediately thrown back to the wolves. They have no chance. Its a shitty thought....And so the cycle remains, the person seeks help, obtains brief relief and then back to the communities and environments that they sought to leave.

Awakening takes Work

When we are young we are taught to throw pennies into mall fountains, wish on shooting stars and "believe in the power of our dreams". I, myself am an early disciple of Disney Movie frivolity. All of this uncontrived intention with one glaring flaw...Wishes don't just come true... At least for me, I spend each moment wishing for a different body, family, income, job, hobbies the list goes on. The biggest thing that I don't do is try to engage in the "doing" that's so necessary a part of getting to or obtaining of the things I really want.  I want to be a photographer. I want to be a writer. I want people to read my writing and feel something from it. I want people to call me a wise sage with infinite wisdom. (egomaniac no?). I want to start a food critic blog called "RED" with my boyfriend. I want to purchase a boat (nothing fancy). I want to live near the shore or in the woods, not in New Jersey. I want to be fit. I want to give back. I want to write letters to politicians for the advocacy of the mentally ill. I want to have more money and travel more. I want to open up a coffee shop and source my coffee beans- by going to different countries and taste-test.  

I read a sentence from Moby Dick at 1am and asked my sleepy boyfriend to read it too- 

"Some years ago--never mind how long precisely--having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. When ever I find myself growing grim about the mouth;whenever it is a damp drizzly November in my soul;whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; an especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street and methodically knocking peoples hats off---then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball-----I quietly take...to.. the.. ship..." 

What a romantic few sentences. This idea of boredom with current circumstance, the necessity to pick up and go, has been and undetachable piece of my spirit....I look at my routine, what is, and how my wants are not lining up with what is, and I feel the urge to "quietly take to the ship". Said another way from a new favorite writer... Anais Nin-

"You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book, or you take a trip, and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom,death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. they work in offices. they drive a car. They picnic with there families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken"

Both of these quotes have to do with awakening..which equal parts frightens and motivates me. First comes the realization of dissatisfaction,boredom and then fear that It will always be this way. Second comes the excitement of possibility and the motivation to begin the work of expanding one's self.

So thats were I am....I gotta start writing, I gotta start taking pictures again. I gotta keep planning wonderful trips with my friend. 

Reading Plato

Plato, believed that we are dimmed versions of "Perfect Forms". We are imperfect replicas, that originated from a single set of Forms. When I think about beauty, in nature, in the human spirit, in growth, .....I always felt that, these versions, were only glimpses, only flickering lights, of a perfectness that existed somewhere....

Plato told a story of a group of shackled individuals in a dimly lit cave, illuminated only by a large fire behind them. These people could only see shadows of themselves and other images flickering on the wall..THIS was their reality. Most of the prisoners were unimaginative or apathetic and simply accepted this reality without speculation. The more inquiring minds observed patterns more clearly and tried to understand their world. Yet Truth eluded them. One of the prisoners breaks free from his shackles and escapes the cave, emerging into the light of day, blinded by is brightness, again only seeing a shadowy representation of reality. Over time, however, this person acclimates his senses to his surroundings and sees things more clearly: the landscape the sky, the sun's illumination.

We can choose to ignore it, but then, we will remain in the cave, only half living, only have knowing. Instead, we must seek out and experience the beauty, the truth, going deeper, asking harder questions and not being afraid of the answers.

10:22pm

Staring at the digital clock,working my eyes in and out of focus, 10:22pm… Watching the blinking light that keeps the seconds. You stare long enough to think you have control over the minute. But look again.. that minute has controlled you. What soothes you, what comforts you? What pets your head to tell you everything is going to be okay? In those moments, when, silence is the most deafening sound, when the thoughts reign supreme with in you, and become choreographed images projected in front of your eyes. Words, can’t explain that fear. It is a deep fear. The one people conveniently disguise as something treatable or something defined. A black hole of racing thoughts. I once thought, I could face the darkness, but I have found that its threshold is too powerful for me to go farther in. Too many unanswered questions, too many uncertainties. Zooming into focus, we live our lives as a series of thoughts and feelings. Change the thought, change the feeling. Life can’t be so black and white. Inviting the blur, I recognize a discomforting
shade of gray. This gray offers no answer, just another possibility. There are no answers.
How do you want to live your life?
Do you want to live the right life?
Do you want to live a life that you created?
Do you want to live a life that is governed by God?
Do you want to live your life for someone else?
Do you know what you want from life?
What is life?
Why are we here together?
Why are we even here?
Why do we have thoughts that cause us to think this way?
Why do we suffer?
Why isn’t life fair?
Why do we try to be even in an unfair world?

This is my love for you.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

My Hunter Fan

In the darkest closet, with every negative thought to keep me company. My heart no longer pumps red blood, just ash. The remnants of a heart once occupied, in the hollow cast i call, me. i hear nothing, i see nothing. i can no longer breathe. i can not feel. i do not exist. The pillow is cold. I reach out but i don't know what I'm reaching for, once filled with memories and thoughts, now lies a dusty shell. A sickness that never ceases.

Damn goodbyes.

"I've had to say goodbye more times than I would have liked, but everyone can say that. And no matter how many times we do it, even when its for the greater good, it still hurts.

And though we'll never forget what we've given up, we owe it to ourselves to keep moving forward.

What we can't do is stop living our lives- always afraid of the next goodbye, because chances are they're not going to stop.

The trick is to recognize when a goodbye can be a good thing, when there's a chance to start again."

Yea....