15 months...
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Thread Starter
Join Date: Jun 2016
Location: Adelaide, Australia
Posts: 28,673
15 months...
15 months ago
I WAS VERY, VERY SICK in a very, very bad place. I had just stopped drinking. Surrounded by fear, pain, addicts screaming, guns, drugs and people who bullied, stalked, extorted and stole from me. I had no money to make a phone call for medical help- no one in that place would help me. The local church knew me on sight and had my free food on the counter before I had even opened the door.....
Tonight I have just finished eating Roast Leg of Lamb- with roast vegies, baked onion and gravy, which I cooked..just for me.
I am clean, safe and warm. My future is as secure as is anything can be.
My debts are all but paid off.
I have enough money to buy a smart phone (for internet and camera, art).
I have enough money to buy myself television and a microwave.
Today I went to a meeting- where there was laughter in the sharing, the absurdity of addiction and healing.
I received confirmation that 2 art works I put forward for a city exhibition in a public space is being considered.
I received word that my application to be a volunteer for arts and culture in the city is under consideration.
I resolved a long standing problem with a govt dept.- DUE TO THEM LOSING MY DETAILS OVER A DOZEN TIMES- WITHOUT ANGER AND FEELING AT PEACE.
I met someone who was a victim of a terrible past, who I have shared part of my recovery path with today. They are coming to the safe place I am in- in another unit. We hugged (I do not hug) and actually laughed.
I attacked some art projects for 4 hours with the same level of obsession I used to give to drinking.
And it has not even turned 2100. Every day is like this for me.
So to the following ladies....
-The social worker in the hospital, when I was just out of ICU from burns/coma- put into place a process which sees me in the safe place in am in now. Who gave me food vouchers, organised appointments and taxi’s when I was not able to properly fend for myself. Who gave me some of THEIR own money for food- her and the caring male staffie and spent 3 hours away from the hospital to see me one day.
-The lady community worker who went the extra mile- to see me, organise appointments and tolerate my scared need for support as I was so alone, isolated and in pain. Who helped me move from that bad place- to the first safe place I had, on her day off- because she cared.
- The lady counsellor who listened, cared and pushed me to face my demons. Who knew how far I could go on looking into my memories to learn the skills for growth and healing. Who silently tolerated nineteen kajillion emails that screamed ‘Tell me I am SAFE now, that I am okay’. Who made me an ATM sized card with such tools written on it to carry with me to a challenging, necessary- hellish meeting that changed my life- with positive paths made from it. Who hugged me that day (she does not hug). Who pushed my buttons and made me live life past thinking just about surviving. Who began me on my journey that finds me obsessed with using art as an expression of describing my recovery journey- my journal by images. By which I learn, become more aware and grow. ...AND HEAL.
- All three tolerated my weird humour..a barometer when I was scared, depressed or in pain.
FROM THE SINCEREST DEPTHS OF MY SOUL,
Thank you.
I WAS VERY, VERY SICK in a very, very bad place. I had just stopped drinking. Surrounded by fear, pain, addicts screaming, guns, drugs and people who bullied, stalked, extorted and stole from me. I had no money to make a phone call for medical help- no one in that place would help me. The local church knew me on sight and had my free food on the counter before I had even opened the door.....
Tonight I have just finished eating Roast Leg of Lamb- with roast vegies, baked onion and gravy, which I cooked..just for me.
I am clean, safe and warm. My future is as secure as is anything can be.
My debts are all but paid off.
I have enough money to buy a smart phone (for internet and camera, art).
I have enough money to buy myself television and a microwave.
Today I went to a meeting- where there was laughter in the sharing, the absurdity of addiction and healing.
I received confirmation that 2 art works I put forward for a city exhibition in a public space is being considered.
I received word that my application to be a volunteer for arts and culture in the city is under consideration.
I resolved a long standing problem with a govt dept.- DUE TO THEM LOSING MY DETAILS OVER A DOZEN TIMES- WITHOUT ANGER AND FEELING AT PEACE.
I met someone who was a victim of a terrible past, who I have shared part of my recovery path with today. They are coming to the safe place I am in- in another unit. We hugged (I do not hug) and actually laughed.
I attacked some art projects for 4 hours with the same level of obsession I used to give to drinking.
And it has not even turned 2100. Every day is like this for me.
So to the following ladies....
-The social worker in the hospital, when I was just out of ICU from burns/coma- put into place a process which sees me in the safe place in am in now. Who gave me food vouchers, organised appointments and taxi’s when I was not able to properly fend for myself. Who gave me some of THEIR own money for food- her and the caring male staffie and spent 3 hours away from the hospital to see me one day.
-The lady community worker who went the extra mile- to see me, organise appointments and tolerate my scared need for support as I was so alone, isolated and in pain. Who helped me move from that bad place- to the first safe place I had, on her day off- because she cared.
- The lady counsellor who listened, cared and pushed me to face my demons. Who knew how far I could go on looking into my memories to learn the skills for growth and healing. Who silently tolerated nineteen kajillion emails that screamed ‘Tell me I am SAFE now, that I am okay’. Who made me an ATM sized card with such tools written on it to carry with me to a challenging, necessary- hellish meeting that changed my life- with positive paths made from it. Who hugged me that day (she does not hug). Who pushed my buttons and made me live life past thinking just about surviving. Who began me on my journey that finds me obsessed with using art as an expression of describing my recovery journey- my journal by images. By which I learn, become more aware and grow. ...AND HEAL.
- All three tolerated my weird humour..a barometer when I was scared, depressed or in pain.
FROM THE SINCEREST DEPTHS OF MY SOUL,
Thank you.
You are an inspiration. 
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