Most Private & Important Thing I've Ever Written

While I certainly want you to believe in a message of change, that all things are possible; I don't want you to ever accept that this requires you to be a perpetual scapegoat.

A large part of my own story has been a deep and personal acceptance of my portion, my contribution to the problem if you will. As many were un-willing, or unable to accept my amends, it ultimately became paramount for me to connect with this desire, this willingness to accept my wrongs and develop an inclination to own them; especially if I were to ever find personal freedom from these acts. This noted I've learned that we must remain vigilant against the imposition of others who are reluctant, or incapable of allowing us the freedom from our past. There are those who will claim much, yet remain blind to the new person we've become.

I myself stopped being a 17yr. old, when I turned 18yrs. I stopped being a 43yr. old husband & father the day I turned 44yrs. Unfortunately many can’t (or choose not to) ever see these stages, and the growth that accompanies each.

To be sure, I've committed my share of crimes; my "sins" are many. I stole, used and sold medications from my father. I stole money from my sisters and stole money from my mother's Al-anon group's treasury purse, on a regular basis. I was always poking through drawers & closets when I was home alone. Violence and breaking the law became very much commonplace. I stole from friends and their parents; the whole time being welcomed back for dinner and a visit, usually the very next day.

I was a skilled liar & a gifted manipulator. I still catch myself, even today, having to correct conversations mid-course, as the desire to exaggerate & manipulate is ever present it seems. I entered my 1'st stint in Brentwood Recovery in my 20's having had some 13 different partners, 2 children out of wedlock and a heavily abused body. It sickens me to admit this to you and yet what's worse is that it barely conveys the entirety of it all. “Tip of the ice berg” says little …

All this and much more are mine to own. It is my belief that I am perpetually capable of error, and as such I will need to continually be on the lookout for those lessons, I’ve yet to learn. These have the potential to be minor epiphanies and believe me when I tell you that I guard these opportunities passionately. I embrace my ignorance and as a result I seek opportunities to learn & improve constantly.

So What!?

What am I driving at?

As I grew up I was in constant reminder that I needed to toughen up, I needed to stop being so weepy & soft, I needed to "get over it", I needed to "let it go already”. After my father died, the dialogue changed little, but was more guided toward a young man, as one might expect. Only now it came from those grown up & married members of my family. Siblings to be sure, but cousins, aunts, uncles, each made time to add to the conversation...

It was hard to hear this constant reminder, especially as my deepest longing was for a place to call home & stability; but the words had to be enough as they were often all I had: “time to grow up", "no one wants to hear it Stacey, get over it, and let it go". I wished to be heard, just for an ear. Enter Sara, someone would listen, & she did. Eventually though, I needed to find others who could provide guidance as I sought to take responsibility for my portion. I needed to learn the correct direction for these conversations with those better prepared to accommodate me. Driven for change, I did and these friends were the architects and laborers of a new me.

Get to the point, right!?

What's it all about Stacey?

Well it may be the long way 'round but I really hope you follow, because it’s an important lesson & a major key to our personal freedom. What I hope to share is that, I've experienced all of this and more. My goal would be to share these experiences, the lessons learned and maybe you could then avoid these things altogether. You see, I still hear these “loving reminders” today; at 44yrs. old. “Be a grown up”, "Get over it Stacey let it go", "Time to act your age". The part where Sara & I shake our heads? They don’t even pause to consider that I have. I am over it, I did grow up and let go of it all. Truthfully, I've let go of far too much, far too easily at times and lost very little sleep in the process. Oh, I certainly made notes in the margin. Trust me, there is no way I ever want to see that guy in the mirror again, yet what we learn is that while some claim to be capable of forgiveness, many are all too comfortable leaving us convicted and pigeon holed. Ruts are comfortable places.

No matter what I've accomplished, no matter the distance between me & those mistakes I've made; all the positive deeds imaginable can never erase: "Grow up & get over it Stacey", for some. To them, I have nothing to offer, I'm white noise, droning on and on. When the slide show stops at Stacey and the one person watching's knee jerk reaction is “Time to Grow Up, No One Wants to Hear it Stacey” how can that white noise ever be worthy of real attention and respect? This person has refused the meal before tasting the dish. Their mind is made up before they sit down at the table. Judged, w/out a jury & sentenced to life. One may begin to think I'm bitter and of course, I’ve been there. I'd be lying to say there wasn't a time when I was. I was deeply hurt for years, but in truth, today I'm just sad because I know me. I know what they're missing, I know the articulate speaker within, the deeply thoughtful husband, father, brother and friend. The loving, gentle and genuine man I've become. They miss out on me, an available ear, and a gentle heart, capable of so very much love.

This is my hope for you, today and everyday & you deserve it. It is freedom from judgement, freedom from resentment and anger. This is freedom to love yourself & by extension, to love those closest to you more deeply & more perfectly. When you've put a lifetime between yourself & your sin, when you've spent a lifetime shedding labels, it is no longer your crime if those that claim to love you the most continue to see you w/ a slanted eye. When the words they speak fail to match the label they impose through clouded glasses, you mustn't stumble. This isn't your garbage to carry; it belongs on someone else’s boulevard. Stand firm, refuse to bend.

Today, I no longer need to grow up, as I am glaringly aware that I was required to grow up much sooner then I should have. I've done enough. I deserve as much respect, kindness and consideration as I give, and most days I give far more then I should! I deserve people in my life that will fight for me & demand these things on my behalf. There comes a moment when we should no longer be expected to offer the right of way. When those aware of whom & what we are, will step in front and do the pushing back for us. We all deserve people like this in our lives, we all deserve moments like this. My accomplishments should account for something; to more people than just me alone. When we change and grow we require support from loved ones. Support can often mean that, on our behalf, they would naturally, willingly acknowledge those accomplishments to others that fail to see them.

I learned this from a man that had only 10yrs. sobriety.

He spoke it to others around those closed tables, who then sought me out, in order to share it with me …

"You'll always be that same whiny baby boy, to someone", he would say, “and it’s ultimately their loss. Stick w/ those persons that would make it their business to remind others; that you’re a new man; after all these are the people that deserve the new you".

I never got to hear him speak those words myself, but some of his closest friends went out of their way to remind me of this gem a number of times and 16yrs. on it's a very personal piece of the puzzle for me. This is the very first time I've ever shared this; outside of a small group that have been my biggest supporters, but today it just feels right. This idea has defined much of my own personal journey and allowed me to find those that will encourage me the most. We deserve to be a priority to someone, find those that will make room for you, to be theirs.

You Are Amazing & Deserve Perfect Love

Love; S.

Contentment, Just For Today

So …

Recent correspondence has led me to recognize that a small bit of explanation may be in order. Color this guy (thumbs up & pointed at self) “wrong again”. I love it when I’m wrong, because it means I’m still teachable. You, see I am one of the biggest enemies of explaining oneself. I truly loathe the idea of anyone, explaining, defending or spewing their “reasons why”. It sickens me no end, if I’m wrong I’m wrong, I own it & move on; chapter ends; turn the page. At best, make a note in the margin (of your life) for future reference. If you find your offering explanations I figure you haven’t yet convinced yourself and I’m sorry but that smells like B.S. to me. Explanations should be left to those that need to discern why a car just turned into their lane & side swiped their new SUV. I don’t need to know why I was an idiot, I just need to own it, accept it, & try not to do it again; but I guess that’s me & my over simplification. Then again, if we’re talking about communicating to a bunch of placated sheep that are waiting on CNN to tell ‘em who to vote for on American Idol; in between “Survivor ‘catch me up” marathons, then I guess there just may be some value in over simplification! … sorry, I digress …

Not only am I torn because I feel the need to offer explanation, I also don’t wish to boast. In those moments when I’ve found myself in a position to help, or lend aide to another, my closest & dearest loved ones have taught me that I am to help; to give of myself hilariously & do these things with no expectation of recompense, that I am to do these things anonymously when & where ever possible. That’s what this blog has been to me. You see, one may believe me to be boastful & presumptuous here, that I, in some way assume I have knowledge & wisdom to offer when quite the opposite is actually true. I feel I am an empty sponge, perpetually capable of error & in desperate need of knowledge and accountability. What I do know is that I have lived and I continue to live. In spite of childhood rape, in spite of alcoholism and addiction, in spite of teenage pregnancy, in spite of drug use and drug abuse, financial strife, hunger, employment struggles, housing problems, homelessness,  imprisonment, recovery centres, health scares; in spite of it all; I continue to live. I take a long, deep breath, I close my eyes, I find my centre, I count my many, many blessings, hold dear the people I love the most, I make time to write as much of it down as I can, and I live. Sharing my experience, strength & hope is; at the end of the day, for me the most that I can offer, & so I’ve made the decision to do just that.

About 7yrs. ago, I was sitting in the office of my (then) therapist, Dr. & friend. He posed the idea that, giving talks, sharing at closed tables & a willingness to share w/ friends and family may not be enough. “The Long Road Home” was born. The idea was to take the writing, the experiences; those most personal, precious and fragile parts of who I’ve become & offer it to the world; via the internet. Anyone who has ever completed or heard of a “4’th” step inventory, or maybe gone to “confession” as a Catholic should be able to appreciate the gravity in this endeavor.  It is one thing to open your dark closet and reveal all of your nasty little demons to someone who can never tell. It is an entirely different creature to openly offer these things to the general public. This of course pre-supposes that you have the courage necessary to even consider such a thing. How many could never imagine telling, even a single person, just one of their darkest, nastiest secrets; let alone sharing it all in a internet post? Who would willingly share their marital indiscretions, the money they stole from mom’s purse or their husbands wallet, their fetishes, their childhood pre-occupation w/ pornography, the crime they “got away with”, or the hidden lingerie section of the catalogue? For me, laying it all bare was & is, an absolute must, & the challenge was to do it in the most public venue available. I had already done the confession deal multiple times, 4’th step inventory was old news, sharing it w/ my PhD, psychology buddy wasn’t helping him or me & my wife was getting a little exasperated by the whole discussion. It was time to roll the dice on a new idea.

At the time, FB was maybe 2yrs. old and barely keeping pace w/ MySpace & blogging was a fairly new, yet by this time, a well-established medium. Sara & I have been “web savvy” since we moved from Windsor in ’97, so I (we) were well aware that social networks like FB & MySpace are limited to friends and family. Writing for those that I “pick & choose” really isn’t a “public” forum, so a public blog, it had to be. I made the decision to avoid any “thread like commentary” on our FB page very early on, asking that any and all correspondence go through the site. All too often, there are many who forget that FB & MySpace are not public forums these are the friends and family we personally choose to stay connected with. It is at these times, we also seem to forget that social networks lack the ability to convey tone & emotion so we will inevitably add these things ourselves. As we read we tend to assume the tone or emotion of a given comment, we then play judge and jury over others miles away, from the safety we find behind a keyboard. I needed to maintain the integrity of the exercise, and so a “public” blog in a public forum was necessary. While I admit that in recent years, I’ve allowed my guard to drop, and feeling that some scenarios were O.K. I allowed threads to develop on FB, I’ve since been called to account, and continue to refrain. It’s an absolute, that I must maintain this separation. I’ve continued to use FB to promote the Blog, but always include “disclaimers” especially for potentially charged pieces.

Here’s where I hope not to become boastful, because in the 7yrs. or so that the blog has been active, I’ve published some 90 plus posts and maintain 100’s of drafts. These numbers are small by comparison, to be sure, but in the years before and since, I’ve written reams of longhand work and through the blog, I’ve been lucky enough to have various pieces picked up. While Google keeps contact w/ me to run Ad-Sense on the site, I’ve never been paid and I honestly have no desire to receive financial reward, as my sincerest hope, of reaching people is realized w/ every “hit” the blog takes, every “view” a piece receives and every “profile view” I get. Comments & private correspondence are always welcomed, but some of it is less than favorable & here is where the rubber meets the road for me. You see, I found out very early on in my sobriety that I thrive on accountability. When I accept my ignorance, I become teachable and if I hope to improve myself I need to be prepared for criticism. To that end, my tissue thin skin needed to become thick and calloused in a hurry. Trust me when I note here that there is no more consistent provider of real time humility, then a public “comment section” on your deepest and most passionate ideas; try it! I’ve since discovered that I write to a much wider and more varied audience then I could’ve ever imagined I’d be able to reach. I am humbled to say the least.

This medium has allowed me to reach out to people in other countries, on other continents and brought the world to my lap, literally. I could, (& admittedly have), become insulting here, but I want this to be an explanation. There are new bloggers out there, just starting and adding many new and exciting ideas. These ideas contrast my own experiences in every way, but it’s the readers I want to reach, and for them I have a warning. This fairly new medium is a double edged sword; as there is no tangible way to convey tone here, that’s left for you to add. You should do so carefully, because while I may write to an audience of thousands, you alone have the ability to take it personally, the choice is yours. It is an incredibly narcissistic thing to read a public blog, on a website open to millions, and assume that any part of it is directed toward you alone. This medium has done amazing things to change me, and teach me humility. It has given me pause to consider ideas and criticisms in a whole new light, but it’s been at the expense of offering myself up to public opinion. I accept that; yet in doing so how could I offer an apology to one who reads from a public forum and assumes a personal attack?

I openly admit that very early on, I wrote at least one very directed piece and foolishly published it. This happened at one of the darkest times of my marriage and was directed at a person specifically responsible for much of the drama in our lives at this difficult time. I’ve since been exceedingly vigilant regarding emotion filled drafts, editing and accountability. I have a wife, children and a number of friends that keep me honest and original pieces like this rarely make to the site. The second part of this sword, for me is the most damning because it is here where truth can be found. It is the truth of a person; the truth of an individual and his or her journey. It is in the written word that we can know a man intimately. Articles, opinions, open comments offered, emotion filled retorts; they all reveal so much about the author. Most often, this happens long after the fact, to his or her dismay. This has been the love affair my wife condones & the nemesis I fear lies in wait under my bed. Knowledge that your craft betrays you shouldn’t cause us pause; it’s only when we learn this all too late that so many feel shame. Much like the boy getting caught in his 1’st lie, explanations are water tossed down sieve when the truth is held open for all to see. When pen touches paper, far more than ink makes it to the page. As an example; one cannot assign the attribute of “monstrosity” to a deity they openly claim to be non-existent, without betraying too much of themselves to the reader. There’s no way to avoid Nietzsche & Freud on that one. Anyone w/ a dime store grasp on Psychology has to give that glaring oxy-moron one great, big, long: “hmmmmm”.

I understood and accepted this paradigm long before I ever published my 1’st piece. I spent many an hour seeking those that would caution me, and those who would hold me to account, because in this medium; one’s truth will shine through, as plainly as their ignorance. The internet offers an endless pasture of likeminded supporters. Type in your search and the lists grow exponentially. This much has been obvious to Sara & I since our 1’st search on “Internet Explorer” way back in 1995, and is more true now than it was then; if such a thing is even possible. I don’t write to gain supporters, I don’t write to make friends, I write to shake foundations, to piss people off, to make you think twice before making a decision. “MjrPhallus” was born when a friend looking for sympathy found none & called me a giant dick; having a personal struggle w/ profanity I responded that I prefer “Major Phallus”. The persona was born. I didn’t arrive at this place in my life painlessly & I don’t expect anyone to feel like change comes easily. Birth is a messy painful business & to give birth to a new me has been no different. To attempt to hide these parts of ourselves in such an open & naked medium is futile. To claim otherwise is exceedingly dishonest.

There are, and will always be, those that would debate definitions add infintum. They’ll quote the Miriam Webster definition of “truth” and at the end of the day, what does it matter, to me; little. One must have a sense of priority. I've come far enough to know who I am; I have no questions to that end. I like who I am & the people I love the most seem to dig me to. Call me “one lucky S.O.B.” & you’d be right. Not many come out the other end w/ the love, support & family I have; as a matter of fact most end up very alone.  I know this: when I do what I love the most, you will always find me there. There’s no escaping that. I see my father every time I look at one of his drawings; I hear his voice every time I read one of his original pieces. I touch my mother each time I embrace one of my sisters. Their undying essence exists there as indelibly as water carving caverns through the mountains.

Therein, as it turns out, is what I love about the whole endeavor. Experiment Successful! Today I can willingly, openly and with no fear of your judgment offer myself and my experience completely. When I do, my loved ones & people I've yet to even meet can find positive ideas, occasional solutions and passionate viewpoints there. That for me is enough. There is freedom in the absolute transparency I enjoy, that so few know, or ever will. For me that is a sad truth. Objective truths are bullshit; the correct term here is “law”. There can be no speculation if we write from actual, honest experience, there is only truth. It’s the truth of our journey, our individual observances of life as it’s happened, or is happening for us. We have only our own senses to rely on, therefore I can’t possibly convey anything other than my own view of the trees, the sky, or how the water tasted on my long road home.

Do What You Love; Happiness Waits For You There }:)

Love; S.