Showing posts from 2018

You are better than you think you are

I am better than I think I am. I can do more than I think. 
We have all heard these names. Names which ring loud as church bells. Names like, Mother Teresa, Nicola Tesla, Steve Jobs, and Nelson Mandela. These men and women have pushed the edges of the current understanding of their times as spiritual, science, business and social leaders. When you read their names what else do you think? Are they really so different than us?

Through our childhood many of us are in search of our own individuality. We want to be proud of what makes us different. This way of thinking digs so deep we most likely at one point have thought, “Nobody understands me.“ How could they? We have set ourselves so far apart that and we are so unique no one can.

We want to be different yet there is so much more power in being no different.Focus on the similarities and will see that it isn’t so hard to say, “Why can’t I do it too?“ Each day we wake up we all have the same time. 24 hours in a day, every single one of us. …

The benefits of relapse.

The persistent will get it, the consistent will keep it.
Relapse is to recovery as cold is to ice cream. I can’t tell you how many times I tried to quit using. I think I graduated out-patient rehab successfully three times. It’s a funny thing though, the relationship of our dueling mind isn’t it? How can we want two things which are at war with each other? When did it become so black and white is the question. The answer of our desire is to balance it all. Yet, we can not. So, our answer must be to use, or not to use. Is it our inability to stick to a decision? Is our suffering all because of our indecision?

While in one of my many rehab visits, I learned that every time we try to quit using, the next time we have a better chance of success. They just don’t know the exact percent. They differ from person to person. This stuck with me for years. Every time I tried to quit, I hoped this would be the time. All but one yielded failure. It is well that I persisted. However, with all the peop…

How to navigate your recovery

We do big things by lots of little things.
Where I once though I floated through life as if I were a leaf blowing in the cool autumn wind, guided only by mystery, I have seen that perhaps the only mystery was my own disconnection with my consciousness. My many seemingly thoughtless navigation's led me down a direction to an unsavory destination. There were many decisions I made in repetition to develop my reputation. Decisions in the beginning to want to me liked by others at my own expense. My decisions on who I thought was cool. To drink with intention on being as drunk as possible. To use pills as recreation. To instead of working harder to make more money, to move into assisted living. The list goes on and on. The big thing I did? I created a living hell full of mental manipulation, lies, and insecurity all around me. I lived in crack hotels. Slept on church steps. Ate out of trash cans. Worst yet, destroyed everything I cared about for my high. If I navigate my own direction t…

4 steps to become the royal you.

In my blog, “Truth found in incarceration” I touched on an experience I had while buying something from a gas station messed up. I mentioned I kept my money in a bible. This moment opened in me, an ability to see my self differently. I wasn’t being honest with myself. Let me give you a little more background on this situation.

Through my various vacations behind bars I found it easier to use my time through routine. Exercise and Bible. I’d build up my body and relationship with God. which I mostly abandoned upon release. Sometimes I’d keep a prayer journal and write to God when I got out. Eventually though, I’d let it fall away. After my last release from the Florida incarceration system, I was determined to not let this happen again. When I’d steal, I’d pray before I went in. I’d ask God to read my heart and protect me. I’d sit in the grass and spend time writing poems to Our Heavenly Ally. I really tried to stay away from drugs. I even kept my bible from jail, and always had it in my…

We can do this

Far from success was the track of my business. I was on the fast track to destitution from the streets, to the institution. This institution was an elementary university for sinners plagued with the darkness of adversity. Cold bars and bare floors, and iron locks on steel doors, it sucks I've been here before. "This is the last time. I don't belong here." I swore many times before I was done. I didn't want this anymore. I can do this. 

It's unfortunate that some of us never learn this lesson, or give up in fear of, the freedom of restriction. Fear of the unknown, a fear of rejection, fear of success or, fear of failure. I must confess I have a known objection I will impress on this danger. I can do this. 
By what evidence shall we get this confidence? Where shall our competence arise? How shall we persuade them?
Our confidence shall come from our ability to learn and persevere. Our courage to fail with our fear, is our road to the person we aren’t, yet.

Meth, a fire and death.

Joy. I met her through Jose, the carpenter I worked for in Florida. She was an author, masseuse and a leader. She had a holistically healthy body, beautiful curly hair and maybe in her 40's at the time. I did a lot of work for her around her house in St. Petersburg, Florida. She had a couple of other houses. One in another part of the U.S. and one on an island somewhere. I can't remember where. I do remember the pictures. Clear blue beaches, wooden bridges through the island trees, and a small villa just offshore. Her little home in paradise. Having these other properties, she traveled. I think she wrote another book too. Which leads me to why she was gone.

Heather and I were staying at Joy's while she was away. As house sitters, we just occupied the space to make sure it stayed kept up. Like drug addicts, we used it as a sanctuary to use safely. Our drug of choice during this era of my mental emancipation?  Meth. Method of use. Injection.

We were in the yellow two-story hou…

Hey Mom, It's me...

It has to be one of the most challenging experiences there is to be the mother of an addict. My mom had to make many difficult decisions, and consistently put herself in strenuous situations. All in the name of a mother's love. She wouldn't let me come home at times, but would answer the phone. She chose to care for my son, and had to tell me I couldn't see him. Today, I respect all of her decisions. when then, all I saw was vengeful division. Though my eyes saw hostility, my heart saw compassion. I still called when I needed a reassuring voice during my darkness. My family was my AMMO during the war with myself.   

I wish I could remember entirely every situation. There were so many. If I'd try and write you a story I'd be lying in someway shape or form. It end up being the mashing together of distant recollections, forming more of a compilation. What I can say with full honesty, is the memory of my feelings during these instances. She grounded me. She was my ancho…

Be Addicted to Life - By Lydia Ryan

Be Addicted to Life
“Life is the toughest teacher because it gives us the test first and the lesson after.” Eric (Airek) Dilley is a thirty-four-year-old fitness trainer and life coach from Lancaster, Ohio who failed the test then learned the lesson. From the outside, he just looks like an extremely fit guy who does what he loves. However, he has not always been this way. When Eric was younger, he made friends with the wrong group of people and started using drugs and alcohol. His choices caused his life to take a turn for the worse. Eric has struggled with long term drug addiction. He got hooked on just about every drug you can think of, went to jail multiple times, has gone through two bouts of homelessness, fallen off a mountain, and has been divorced with two children. 

Eric’s life has not exactly been a cup of tea; however, he cleaned up his act and seems to have a whole new attitude about life. “My past decisions, failures, and successes have all brought me to this life that I am …

"We are rewarded in public, for what we practice for years in private,"

When I started using it was all in fun. All the friends were drinking having a good time. I wanted to feel cool. When a select group of people went away together, I wanted in there. I wanted to feel special. This division of superior segregation resulted in my alienation. The actions of repetition during my privacy became my talent. I became better and better at using drugs. Eventually I would receive my reward. In some social circles I didn’t want people knowing about my addiction. Some friends, authority figures and family. In time, what was hidden would be revealed. My reward was my recognition. The State's ammunition resulted in repetitive incarceration. Mugshots and press releases of my prosecution became my revelation. The talents of my practice, once perfected manifested my public reward. Then it was time to transition. Once transient I became a man of mission. When I took in these words while reading Awaken the Giant Within, “We are rewarded in public for what we practice fo…

Interview of the addict

I am not my past, it is only a part of me. A valuable memory, held in my treasury. Many want to hide their past behind the deepest caverns. Eventually if we go back in, and mine our mind, gems you will find. The pressure had turned our rocks into riches. What we had of  little value, has now become valuable. We can harbor it or make it available. True joy comes when we make available our value and invite many to the table. 
I was asked to interview by a friends daughter for a school project. She asked some good questions about my story and my addiction. What would I say to my son if he began the road I took? What regrets do I have? Am I proud of who I am now? 
1. Where are you from? I am from Lancaster, Ohio. 
2. How old are you?  My birthday is May 29, 1984. I am 34 years old. 
3. What decisions have you made in your life that you are proud of? Being the Father of Peyton, my 12 year old son and my daughter Azalea who is 8 months old. I am also proud that I was able to move past my drug addi…