Entombed

Social Science is the opportunity for adults to drink in a children's environment. At least that was my interpretation. Neither me nor my mother drank, but we had a good time.

The Science Museum of Minnesota closed its doors to the public at 4pm yesterday to prepare for the event. It started at 6 and we strolled in at 6:30 and we're I.D.'d by the police to get through the doors. Neat.

We were greeted by a gigantic space man that towered over everything. Mom was hungry so we proceeded down to the third floor where we were told was a restaurant and where we could hear a large dance party in progress. As it turned out, it was an empty dance floor and a table with a lone D.J. whose name was, I believe, Sasha DuJoúr, or Sasha of the day in English. The music was loud.

We ate and started our tour with dinosaurs.

Allosaurs looked like velociraptors to me so I took this picture. I wonder if these former rulers of the world actually stood around with their mouths agap, or if this look is created to strike fear in the observer.

This is not a turtle. Actually it looked more like a pig than anything. I don't recall it's name, but it was pretty cool-- my favorite fossil.

This here is fossilized Dino poo. Somewhere exists a picture of me taking this picture. It was the most popular display by far of the dinosaurs.

These are holograms. I couldn't get them to look 3D on my phone camera until I actually took the picture and my mom stepped in and it appears as if the picture lept out and grabbed her face.

And then there were mummies. We each paid an extra $8 to see this exhibit. I had mixed feelings before I walked in. I mean, how much could I learn from a dead guy in a blanket?

These are skulls of adults whose heads were bound as children. Yes, people actually wanted their heads to look like butts 2,000 years ago.

His whole life story was written over the body in hieroglyphics. You didn't need to be rich or famous to have an elaborate tomb, this was very common practice back in the day.

This one really got me. I stated for minutes. It's just a head. But one day, this head held thoughts, talked to and loved people and his family. And years later, he was ripped to shreds by grave robbers looking for treasure. His head was torn off and discarded with no respect or remorse. His eye sockets were empty, but I envisioned a stream of tears cascading down his gaunt cheeks.

Here's another one I couldn't walk away from. This is a very lifelike recreation of an Egyptian boy who was entombed thousands of years ago. D.N.A., X-RAY, and some acronyms I can't recall were used to estimate his features. I had a minor acid flashback. Synesthesia kicked in when my brain told me this was a real person even though I knew it wasn't. I saw a flicker  then I know I saw his eyes move. Colors started to change around me. I was locked in.

I looked closer into his eyes. We started at each other for a full minute. I swear I heard him breathe. I could see pores on his skin, each one with a micro-hair protruding. The detail was phenomenal. I nearly got sick because of the effect it had on my brain. No joke. We left.

Upstairs we found the place where you can bring things in to trade. Things you find out in nature. They assign a point value to what you bring then add on points for what you know about it, then you find something worth that many points. These agates are an example of what you could bring in or leave with.

And finally, I discovered I could put my face and name on the space man. It's the coolest thing I've ever seen or done. I'm an astronaut now.

In the long run this was a  important night. Aside from the unexpected L.S.D. flashback, it was an opportunity to be in an environment where normal people were drinking normally. I didnt have any urges to sneak off and find a private place to down a quick beer or empty out a pop can and fill it with wine. I had a fun time and paid attention to the exhibits, not the people. Another small success for me.

Mom

Mom, I know I’ve let you down. Over, and over again I’ve made a mess of my life and brought both of us shame. There were years where you were unable to explain my whereabouts to family and friends, and times where you yourself didn’t know where I was. I’ve put you through more pain and distress than I care to recall. I’ve not been a son to you for many years, and I have lost your trust far too many times. All these things are true and I think on them frequently.

But for some reason, you still love me. It’s an unconditional love that I’ve felt nowhere else. Even recently when we didn’t see eye to eye when we lived together, there was never any doubt that you loved me. I wish I could say that I promise you that I will never be lead astray again by the temptation and allure of alcohol and the world of drugs, but I cannot because it’s the nature of the disease that I am always at risk of going back. What I can say is that once again, today I made a small step in my progress toward restoring sanity in my life. And tomorrow, when we go out on our secret trip to an unknown location for Mother’s Day lunch, I will be repairing even more of the damage I have caused. I will be repairing the bond that had been broken for so long as a result of my actions. I have nobody to blame but myself, which leaves only me to clean up the mess. And so far, I think it’s working.

It’s hard work, searching inside myself to try to figure out what’s been broken for so long. But through writing this blog, attending A.A. meetings, and working with a sponsor, I’m starting to change my life around. I no longer do these things to avoid going back to prison, I do them because I want to be out here living life and being with my family as much as I can.

Although you had help from some family members raising me for a small portion of my childhood, I know that you were solely responsible for bringing me up and I know that you not only did the best you could without a father present, you truly were an amazing Mother, I just didn’t see it until later in life.

I see it now, and I won’t forget it. You imparted upon me how to be a good, loving person, and it took me about 20 years longer than it should have to recognize that. The things you showed me are the things I strive to emulate now because I know that they are righteous, moral, and honorable.

Mom, I love you. It doesn’t get any more honest than that. You were instrumental in keeping me sane throughout my prison term. You wrote to me, sent me money, and answered my calls. Not everybody is as lucky as I was in there. Not everybody has a person that loves them no matter what, and I consider myself fortunate. You moved just to accommodate me living with you when I got out, and I am so grateful for that. I may not have acted like it when I lived there, but that was because I was ashamed of myself, and I shut myself in my room, and my own little world where I felt comfortable. I’m breaking out of that shell slowly, but surely, and I won’t forget that it’s because of you that I’m even out here in the first place and had a warm safe place to sleep. Sometimes it takes a while to realize what I have to be grateful for, but eventually it comes.

Tomorrow is your day, and I’m excited that I have the ability to take you out for the day, and the means to make it happen. I think this will be the best Mother’s Day we’ve ever spent together, and I look forward to many more.

Mom, I know I’ve let you down. But I’m going to make it up by becoming a good son, and making up for all the hurt I’ve caused. I love you, Mom.

God Maertz

Until recently the word God really didn’t have much meaning to me. It sort of scared me when I saw how many times the term was used throughout the steps, and in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous. I couldn’t get my head around the fact that I couldn’t do this according to the book unless I had a relationship with God of my understanding. Now, that last sentence made it easy for me. I could just say that Mother Nature, or a group of people was my God, right? Well, yes. It’s true to a point, but what I came to realize recently is that this program will never work for me if I can’t humble myself, and admit that I’m not the greatest, most powerful thing on this world.

It’s not about worshiping a God and fearing not getting into heaven. It’s not about religion, so I don’t need to pick a side and start going to church. I just need to believe in God. It’s that fucking simple! And ever since I made the decision to stop resisting that one last piece of the puzzle, things have started falling into place.

It all happened in a meeting a while back. Obviously I can’t get into specifics, but somebody said something that just kept repeating in my head. If I’m not to the point where I haven’t suffered enough to humble me to get down on my knees and ask for help, then maybe I should go back out and feel some more pain. I knew then that I had done enough field work to not need to try it out again.

It didn’t happen right away, but slowly I made little steps toward turning my will over to the care of God. I first started praying in my head. But I wasn’t doing it right, I was asking for things for myself. Then I started doing my fourth step, and that’s when I realized I needed to pray for others, and knowledge in how to help others. And that’s when I noticed that I was no longer having mean, hurtful thoughts and feelings toward others. And that includes all of the drivers I used to think were ass holes!

I’m calmer, cooler, and more level headed than I have been in years. I catch myself using old behaviors and I stop myself. It’s not perfect yet, and it probably never will be, but I’m going the right direction. I’m not trying to control the room with body language. I’m not trying to manipulate the boss into getting something I want. I’m communicating my thoughts, opinions, and needs, and I believe it’s a direct result of my decision to let go of control.

I never was very good at decision making in my life. I mean, I used to love smoking crack. Oh, man, I loved that shit. But it didn’t really help my life out. So, instead of smoking crack, I’ve decided to believe in a Higher Power. Can I make it any simpler than that? I highly doubt that any decisions I make whilst praying to God will land me back in prison or out on the streets. Again, the opposite of crack. So, the opposite of crack is God, it’s love. Because drugs were pain. And for the first time in years, I feel love for this life, this world, and its people, and I want to keep that going because it feels good. Now put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Blogging 101

After a lengthy unintentional hiatus, you are now once again able to get e-mail notifications when I publish new posts. You’ll have to take the same steps as you did before by going to the web version of the blog and following the instructions at the bottom of the page. I don’t know exactly what went wrong, but I did somehow make it work again. 

I haven’t written anything about prison for a while. In fact, I rarely think about being there anymore, and even when I spoke about it the other night, it felt like it had been a lifetime ago that I was in those horrible places. It’s been nearly eight months, and aside from a little hiccup and a 30-day loss of all of my freedoms, I’ve done exceptionally well out here. This is my 101^st post on this blog, so I’d like to take this opportunity to look back on what I’ve accomplished in this relatively short period of time.

Yesterday, my bosses told me that they value me as an employee, in fact, they said it has been years since they had an employee that was as motivated and hard working as me. They then gave me a $2 per hour raise which is incredible for me. I’m not trying to toot my own horn here but, Beep Beep, that’s pretty fucking awesome! I have worked my ass off every day since they gave me a job just three weeks out of prison. The work is often frustrating and repetitive, but I show up and I don’t complain because I am grateful to be working full-time.

I have a car that looks like it’s been through my life. It’s cost me so much recently that I could have bought a much nicer car if I had spent the money I had to on new tires, brakes and rotors, and a high-mileage oil change, all at the same time as a down payment. But, it’s mine. It’s in my name, it’s insured, and I have my license, all things that are less common in recovery than in the normal world. I spent all of that money and I could afford to do it and have money left over to spend on necessities. I’m never broke, and that’s huge.

I moved out of my mom’s house. Again. Some of you probably did that for the last time in your teens, and I think that is pretty normal. I’ve done it a couple times in my teens, a couple more in my twenties, and again in my thirties. I want this to be the last time, so I need to work hard to keep on the straight and narrow. I think I’m doing alright so far.

I have rekindled relationships with my family. Some I communicate with and see more often than others, but I am part of the whole again, and I can tell you that I can see now what I was missing out on for all of those years. I’m no longer afraid of them finding out all of my terrible little secrets. They know, and they accept me for who I am and what I’ve been through. I love them. I love you guys!

I’ve gotten over my fear of being around people and in public places. That was a tough one. For months I had trouble looking people in the eye and having normal conversations. Actually, I still have some difficulty, but it’s getting better. Anxiety doesn’t seem to rule my life anymore. My favorite part of every week is going to my home group and gathering for fellowship afterward with a group that has become very close over the past few months. I hope this continues for many years.

That’s a lot of progress in just under eight months. I am excited to see what the future holds. I know I have a lot of work left, but I am up for the challenge. I don't have everything I want yet, but I have everything I need. I’m loving life.