Amorisey's Blog

 
Monday, June 15th, 2009

What's up folks. The first blog/journal/FR of a lifetime. Hopefully the start of many... the first step in a journey of a TEN thousand miles. After 22 years of noise and confusion in my mind and the world around me, I finally decided to open up my eyes and get a grip of myself inside... meaning I decided to do it all sober. Meaning I decided to give this life, or rather more specifically, my life a purpose.

You see, I grew up in and around Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (after a move from my birthplace of Boston, Massachusetts), USA in for the most part a single-parent household. Mom left Dad when I was 7, and took me a long, 'cause Dad was a loud, antagonistic drinker who spent more time (ironically) going out then coming home wasted to yell and Mom and me than raising me or her up to any level of self esteem.

I was always the trouble maker in class/school. Up until about high school, I was well liked amongst my peers because I was the class clown, and absolutely defiant to everything that the teachers/school/establishment stood for. I simply didn't give a fuck. Now, many years/drinks/blunts/parties later I have no recollection/clue what the hell I was thinking that whole time, probably not very much, but that was me. Ah well.

In high school, I was reserved. I had friends in certain circles, but I changed schools 3 times in the course of 2 years (one being a complete city-change from Philadelphia to the Nation's Capitol, Washington, D.C. where I reside currently)... that was fucking tough. School was brutal on me. I always hated it, I couldn't stand my teachers, and I could never figure out how to meet girls. I was essentially a bit of a social outcast. HOWEVER, I had started teaching myself how to rap, and I was always very articulate/outspoken/humorous (at times), so I could always make a bit of a niche for myself. Most of high school was spent walking around, zoned out on my headphones listening to Kanye West, Jay-Z, DMX, whoever... wishing I could find a girl... success... something to live for. Whatever.

Well, college came, and I thought I had found it... WEED. And DRINKING. And PARTYING. And a BAND to devote myself to...(I joined a band of old high school friends in the Summer of '06... summer after freshman year in college) The living's easy, RIGHT?? No, not at all, fuck all that.

I spent the next few years in this band... going down to college for the year, only to smoke weed, play guitar, and listen to Led Zeppelin all day... languishing in the fact I didn't know how to talk to girls, and being thankful to the heavens that I was able to find the stray amounts of vagina I did in college (usually the BEST pussy-getting years of your life)... eventually my weed issues became such that I was arrested and taken to jail the 2nd week of my "junior" year of college, and ceremoniously sent back home to Mommy and Stepdaddy to "sort my life out".

Well THAT didn't fucking happen. I ended up smoking MORE, and picking up a nasty drinking habit along the way... ANYTHING to keep me from... who? ME. And my band. We had begun to have issues.

Long story short... eventually I lost my job, school, girls, and many things to my weed issues. Eventually I was able to curb it after being introduced to PICKUP in the summer of '07 (aged 20), although I could not take advantage of it until the following summer when I turned 21, summer of '08. I finished my weed addiction and began a healthy intake of 1) Going out and gaming chicks 2) getting drunk as all hell. Now as many of you drinkers know, DRINKING HEAVILY has... CATASTROPHIC CONSEQUENCES when realized. And that is what happened... I ended up punching 2 band members in the face WHILE THEY WERE DRIVING ME HOME IN THEIR CARS... punched my best friend... lost tens of girls, freaked out people, had fall outs with family members, the whole nine yards. By the end of it all... last weekend, I had no job, no band, no girls, barely any friends. And no money. Suicidal as all hell on a New York City front stoop waiting from my best friend who hates/hated me for my drinking, outbursts, and lack of control. I wanted to die.

And this is when I knew I couldn't do "this" anymore. I couldn't continue on gaming, living on this same path. When you make the acceptance that you do NOT care whether you live or die because you hate life so much, or the alternative seems "alright"... you really start to check yourself. What is the underlying issue here? For me it was two things 1) My completely wacky emotional system that I never tried to take care of through meditation, counselling, journalling, etc. 2) My substance abuse.

And so this much change. I've broke down and told my Mom I was addicted to weed/cigarettes/alcohol (true)... that I was suicidal most of the time... and that I needed help. Like rehab-visit-for-30-days-plus-detox-help... or I would just, as I put it, "fade into nothingness" as I continued to drink and smoke myself to an early grave. We made an agreement that I was stay sober for the next three days (Today, Monday June 15, through Wednesday the 17th... then regroup).

And this is where I'm at. I promised myself I would write a journal a day from now on, chronically my journey wherever it may lead me. I thought: Where else better to preserve and put this journey on display than RSD, the site that helped me so much through the years with pickup and just basic understanding? I'm not even writing this with the intention of really anybody reading it, but I wanted it documented somewhere where people COULD read it if they so choosed. I will in addition include all of my field reports and opinion blogs here as well as my journals.

Lastly, let me recap the day before I go to sleep because that was part of the idea. I woke up today about 12-1 PM because I had been up 'til about 3-4 AM the previous night on the phone with this girl I used to try to date in college but had no success, yet we still became good friends. We share a common bond in our substance issues, and she has handled hers very well so I look to her for guidance.

Anyway, talked to her until late... then smoked my (hopefully) "last cigarette" (epic, isn't it?). Went to sleep and woke up in a haze at 12 PM. Ended up going with Mom, the old lady, to a nice lunch in downtown D.C., just talking about different things and my level of focus. I did not feel any particular withdrawal symptoms for lack of weed, alcohol or cigarettes, and even when having cigarettes smoked in my face at the outdoor patio, I did not crave it too much. THEN AGAIN... IT'S DAY 1.

In general, today, I did NOT feel any of the classic depression of going cold turkey. I spent most of the day attempting to divert my attention AWAY from the big bad task at had (meaning organizing my life), and tried to stay in the present moment. I knew that the more I dwelled on it or the past, the more I'd come close to freaking out and really feeling the need for a drink, or a cigarette or whatever. I think I did a pretty good job with that.

I know I have a big task ahead of me... and I plan to write out "The Masterplan" (my life plan and goals) as much as possible by the end of the week. For right now, my concern is getting a good night's rest... staying present, and positive, and getting the 5-6 things I wrote for myself to get done tomorrow... DONE. All the rest is just details. Hope this services as a good first entry. If not, oh well fuck it, there'll be alot more of these to get it right won't there! 

Have a good night me, and the rest of humanity...

PEACE, LOVE, AND DON'T LOOK BACK IN ANGER!!!
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