Nainoa

Hi, My name is Nainoa (Which is polynesian for "The Way Finder.")

I can't exactly say why I'm here...

Only that the great spiritual currents of the world have lead me here...

A bit of my story...

I grew up "On the wrong side of the tracks...Child from a broken home... Living below the poverty line..." All the cliche stuff that leads one straight to substance abuse.

I often joke with my friends that I was born destined to live in a trailer house and cook up meth, and chose otherwise.

****
It's been 13 years and whatever months clean, for me... I went though hell and back, had the moment of clarity... And suffered my way upwards... Recovered my life... And honestly... When you look at the life I have now... Successful career, investment portfolio, Boat, Truck, simple house, adoring wife, loving family, wild sense of humor, amature body builder, Artist, Athlete, Outdoorsman...

I mean really... I've taken all those dreams that teased me off at the great distance 13+ years ago, and made them come true.

But something is missing... And it gnaws at the edge of my consciousness.

I've learned the hardway that all things come full circle in the great adventure of this life...

And while I whole heartedly consider myself "Recovered" I realize that I've reached the point now where it's time to give something back.

Over and over again the great currents of this life keep delivering to me the message that it's time to tell my story...

I tried to tell it twice before... But each time I was still "Too Wounded." The old scars of the past still too pink and easily re-opened... The wisdom gleaned still too undigested.

And as such I seem to have put all my dreams of Adding "Writer" to the Title of "Artist" on hold.

It's been far easier and far healthier to stare forward at the success stories of the present and use them to plan for the future than it was to look back at old suffering.

The time has come, now that I've become "Fully Healed. To tell the story and give something back.

In truth a part of me is frightened to look back and to expose that buried past... And so if you guys will have me? I would go back to the beginning, to look at old wounds, and explore to see what untapped truths there might be hidden in them.

Toomutch

Welcome Nainoa
Glad you found SR

LogCabin

Welcome aboard! You seem like a very talented writer. In addition to posting here...are you going to recovery meetings? I am always inspired by the people who stand and share thier story. I also enjoy reading the post of the folks who are past one year sobrity.

Stories of Recovery

http://www.soberrecovery.com/forums/stories-recovery/

Tazman53

Welcome to SR Nainoa, sharing how one has recovered is the basis of AA & NA, in AA we call it carrying the message. It is a message of Experience, Strength and Hope. A message of healing, forgiveness, tolerance, love, acceptance, a message of spirtuality, of miracles, of learning to live life on lifes terms happily clean and sober.

Please share with us all your story.

Nainoa

I never went to meetings...

I had my "Moment of Clarity." (Which was a drug induced schitzophrenic episode... A gut wrenching story that I'll share in the due time it needs to be written.)

On that spot, I quit Meth, Opium, and the rest of the Evil Potpourri.

I went through 40 days and 40 nights of kicking thrashing, sweating and blood vomitting nightmare, battling an "Evil Voice in my head."

Day 41 is kind of my new birthday... As I had to learn to live again.

I tried to go to meetings... But I couldn't connect... I tried to "Find Religion" but there was no place for me... And so like I've always always done in my life, I tried to "Find my own way."
(Hence me taking the name "Nainoa.")

And while I made a couple million mistakes and wrong turns along the journey, and broke down to smoking a little pot 2-3 times in the first 2 years clean... I never once tasted the hard core stuff again...

Nainoa

I believe that I currently walk a path that for a lack of better terms could be called "An Urban Shaman."

A Shaman in the true sense of those who live inside what we in western culture would see as a "Primitive Culture." Is essentially a "Healed Healer."

And while I have healed from substance abuse... I also believe that "All I have to worry about is myself." Is the Mantra of the 21st century coward.

When I sit back and look at the path I have walked... All those moments when I laid on the ground, suffering... Shaking my fist at God saying "Why Me?"

When I sit back now and look at it... Every single wrong turn... Every scraped knee... Every massive kick in the balls... Every victory, every defeat, every love and broken heart...

It all makes sense. But I can't figure out how to do proper justice to explaining it... I believe that the next step in my journey is to be able to devliver what I've learned back to those who need it most.

Because ultimately... I believe the question "Am I my brother's keeper?" has the answer of "Yes!"

Aysha

I look forward to your shares.

Jersey Nonny

"I will not regret the past, nor wish to shut the door on it." This is something we learn by attending AA meetings. We feel it's important to keep the memory green, or it's too easy to forget over time how bad things got and what brought us to the need to quit. After over 28 years of continuous sobriety, that's one of the reasons I still come to sites like SR to share with those newly sober and others in various stages of recovery.

Nainoa

See now on the one hand... I don't feel any temptation to do drugs again...

I've had it under my nose (Not literally) many times sense. (The first couple of years it was still there... But I've grown in ways that negate it.)

****

But at the same time...

To be honest... There's something else a foot somewhere burried in my psyche...

My early years were tragic and painful, and all of that stuff that makes you cry your eyes out and feel sad for someone growing up on the wrong side of the tracks... I've dealt with it and I'm cool with it... In fact I'm proud of the strength gained from it.

My Addiction and recovery were gut wrenching... And I followed it up with some Bad "Life Choices" that sent me on a painful path.

Again... I've dealt with those and I'm cool with it... And I'm proud of the wisdom gained from it.

But in this transformative process... Something happend.

Before I started drugs I used to be an amazing poet... I mean I was a Fracking Prodigy like Mozart with poetry.

After Drugs... I can't write a poem that doesn't feel Clumsy and broken.

However... Before doing drugs... I couldn't paint, or draw...

While going clean I started painting... And

Well I'm an Art Director by day and artist/painter at night.

But even beyond this "Re-wiring of my skill set."


My Entire life I've been pulled through this dichotomy of my being... Always at Odds between "The Poet/Artist" and "The Warrior."

The "Poet" always failed... Always fell down... Always felt weak... And "The Warrior." Always came to his rescue.

Over time The Warrior sort of took more and more control... The Poet became "The Artist" and the Warrior merely used the Artists skills... But the Artist, never got to be let out to "Be in charge."

And there there was this moment...

September 14th, 2003...

My Beloved Cat Kahamar... After 14 months of the two of us Battling his Renal Cancer, he finally lost his battle...

I buried him in the Orchard under the apple tree I planted the day I brought he and his sister Yuki home... I layed him to rest next to his sister (Who preceeded him in death.)

And I remember this terrible over whelming sense of suffering bubbling up from deep within me...

Suddenly there was this "Click" like a light switch being turned off... And I could feel the Warrior say "That's it... No more suffering, it's doing no good."

And since that day I have not been able to cry...

I don't mean that as a "Men don't cry" type of chest thumping bull crap statement... I think crying is very healthy...

But since that time... All my Negative emotions... Simply channel themselves into "Anger" And I know how to deal with Anger (Weight room Heavy Bag, splitting wood, intense cardio session, journaling, meditation) etc...

And while I still "Well up" or get "Choked up" like at my buddy's funeral, when his Dad was asking around for advice on what to do with all his dead son's shoes...

I still effectively, can't cry...

*****

The Warrior's Mortitorium on Suffering can't be lifted... And I'm afraid after all these years of "Living Forward" to "Suffer myself to look back."

CarolD

Welcome...

If you choose to use the Stories of Recovery Forum
you need to know ....

You must add your story all at once.
No editing is allowed there
and
it locked automatically No additions possible.

The best way to use Stories is to type in Word Doc
edit...then copy and paste there.
The title is to be ...as to our rules...
Nainoa My Story

Here is the link with the directions...

http://www.soberrecovery.com/forums/...e-posting.html

Nainoa

Uh... The first draft of the story was 2157 pages single spaced 12 point type...

LogCabin

LOL....I think we may need the condensed version...

Sorry Carol. It's been a while since I read the rules of how to post there. I just remembered the one year clean and sober to do so...

Nainoa

Thanks a lot...

I'm a little bit cautious still at this point... Some of my views on modern recovery, are a little outside the box... So I hesitate to share them, because I understand that there are many people both posting and auditing this site that are in a delicate position in their lives.

I cleaned up on my own, no program, no 12 steps... And that was my way... It's not everyone's way... I mean it's the old "If you meet the buddha on the road kill him for he is not the way" type of thing.

I have many problems with the system for recovery as it stands... And If my oppinions interfere with a single person's program, I would feel an incredibly deep level of guilt..

So it has me holding back a bit, for the sake of that one person out there who is now as desperate as I was once...

While at the same time I don't know yet if I want to go back and "Reopen old wounds."

If it wasn't for the great currents of life leading me this way I would not have bothered... But I am extremely mindful of the journey as it lays out before me... And just as I could not ignore the voice that told me "Get up" when I was laying in the snow bank covered in vomit... I also cannot ignore the great currents that have lead me this far...

I just have to figure out how to temper... What I guess you could call "My Message."

Toomutch

I am the opposite when it comes to poetry. For the 7 years that I was not drinking i loved to write, When I started drinking again I would try to write while in a black out - now that was some weird **** I would wake up to.

I encourage you to share some of your writings - as I'm sure you know, writing can be very theraputic.

adore79

[QUOTE=Nainoa;1847377]

I had my "Moment of Clarity." (Which was a drug induced schitzophrenic episode... A gut wrenching story that I'll share in the due time it needs to be written.)

On that spot, I quit Meth, Opium, and the rest of the Evil Potpourri.

I went through 40 days and 40 nights of kicking thrashing, sweating and blood vomitting nightmare, battling an "Evil Voice in my head."

QUOTE]

Hi Nainoa, welcome to SR I am schizophrenic and I know how hard an episode of psychosis can be. I would be interested to hear of your episode, since hearing of people's psychosis helps me to better understand my disease. I've found that many episodes are similar, I take this to mean that biology is similar to all of us, and we all share a common dark side. Thanks, and again, welcome.

Nainoa

See I'm not sure I understand this whole "Locked, 1 shot, no edit, My Story" thing.

Now in part it's because I've been through what I called "My Catharsis."

I've told the story to myself... Twice... To get it "Rung out of my soul."

At this point in my journey I have no fear of being judged... In fact I love feed back. I've been battle tested by my failures and my recoveries from them. I can look back at all my mistakes and I understand how artistically they have lead me to this point... And it fills me with a divine joy so deep that I beam with it.

I mean Holy Crap... I think back... 13 years ago... That 40 days of living hell... Kicking, thrashing, sweating... Throwing up blood every morning... My phone ringing off the hook with dealers wondering what happened to me, and an evil voice pushing me from within to just break.

Everything within me disembodied. No soul... No heart... No love... No family.. No reason to think that I was ever going to make something out of my life...

Yet still this thing said "Get Up."

So I fought... And I fought, and I suffered, and I believed and I fought.

And now 13+ years later... Here I am, at the next step... And I don't know what the next step is?

I'm no longer a victim, and I don't know what to do about it!

LOL!

Of all the problems!

Nainoa

[QUOTE=felly79;1848022] On the one hand... My schitzophrenia was drug induced... I'd been mixing "The Evil Potporri" of Meth and opium and whatever else as an appetizer for 3 years... I'd been awake, (Other than cat naps like fever dreams) for three weeks straight,and something finally "Cracked."

It started out... Kind of like the background music on Friday the 13th... That Sheeh-shhhh-shhh-shushhh-shuhhhshhh...

And that was with me for days...

Then I got this feeling like someone was watching me...

A day or two later I started seeing "Shadow people" dodging in and out of the corner of my vision. (I'd always seen "Black things" in my very clean and very sobre youth... So it was disturbing to have them show up again after having been gone for so long.)

And then it turned into "The Evil Voice."

Which is something I don't know if I'm ready to talk about with others yet...

But since my detox withdrawl... And some few scant moments back in the day... I haven't had anything of that nature since.

Nainoa

In a shamanic cultural sense...

There is the belief that sometimes when something traumatic happens to you that a piece of your soul "jumps out." And sometimes it can't find it's way back.

Usually in that Shamanic Culture they hold a spirit healing to help that piece of the soul find it's way back.

Since I don't happen to live in that culture and all of my old mentors are now dead or gone... I am attempting to conduct a spirit healing of my own... ]

Which I guess is where the story of Jimmy comes in...

ex D-Boy

hey nainoa, great to meet ya. glad you found this site and started posting. I personally would love to hear your story as Im sure many others on here would.

As for getting clean without getting into a 12 step program, I don't think you will offend anybody on here, most are very laid back and open-minded. Some of us, myself included have gotten clean and remained clean without the 12 steps.

Hope to hear more from you, stay safe ~~

Nainoa

Okay... so the story of Jimmy...

It was November 1st 1995... I had screwed my life to high hell back home in Minnesota... I'd been clean for almost 8 months... And they say "No new relationships for 6 months."

Well I was dumb, and pretty much tried to fill myself up with as many new relationships as possible... And while I was at, it why not switch over from meth and opiates to alcohol and gambling.

Basically I screwed the pooch hardcore... And so I went on a "Walk about." (Okay... Drive about...)

I headed out with my buddy and his 6 month pregnant girlfriend to go see his brother in southern california who was dieing from AIDS.

Along the way we came upon Vegas.

I tried to sneak into a casino... Got busted and kicked out on my way back from the bathroom... My friends didn't see what happened...

So I found myself on the Downtown (Not the strip) part of vegas...

Which is where I met Jimmy... A small framed little black man. There are these moments in this life where God is talking to you through people, and while I was a giant savage walking wound at that time, I was aware that Jimmy was such a person.

Jimmy was recently homeless, and dieing from Liver Cancer. (Which he believed was his punishment for beating his best friend savagely to life altering injuries after he found his best friend having sex with his wife... Which forced him on the run from the law...)

Jimmy split a bottle of Gin with me.. We went back and forth for something like 3 hours swapping stories or woe and other hellacious problems.

The part that is the most germain to all of this though is just as I'm leaving...

And he tells me through yellowed eyes "Hey man... you just remember... When the shadows get around ya... Just turn your light up and scare them away... Guide yer self by that light!"

*****

And so now, I attempt to lead the lost writers talent of myself back by "building my light" and so where ever it is out there in the dark nether... Maybe it can find it's way back to me by the light I cast.

So I keep trying to building my Spritual light... Surrounding myself by as much positive, powerful or creative energy as I can. In hopes that I might yet summon that which was once lost long ago back to me!