In These Rooms Blog

The following was shared with me by a fellow badass on this journey. He has an adult son who is bipolar, schizophrenic and does drugs. His son is much bigger than his father and on occasion is physically abusive to his father. He lives with his father but on occasion leaves home, gone for weeks on end, no communication with the father who loves him, looks for him and worries no end. He shared this with me having just found his son in the hospital after he went missing again for a month:

“…There is an Obligation to Sons And Daughters, manifested Deep within the heart of an 

Old Man. It cannot be ignored nor transmitted to another.

Carrying it along, he thinks neither of Falling short nor Doing his best, as either are Unacceptable nor Attainable.

Continually faced with a Double-bind (fucked if you do Or if you don’t), he moves 

Straight-on ahead, guided by Compassion and love; Authorized by what lays within.

He comprehends neither failure Nor success, as both extend Beyond his purview. 

His Purpose is clear and sure–Service in perpetuity of this Obligation with humility and Confidence;

Fueled and driven by Grace,

Eminent and Intrinsic.

And when Grace is exhausted,

Wait patiently until more is Conveyed.

Until then, all else becomes Anecdotal…”

Brother Said

‘’…Become a man and a better man and father than my father and the best father I can, this is what I want. I realize I’m standing on his shoulders and learning from the wisdom and the lessons of my father’s life. I get to benefit from his successes but also his failures, struggles and even his demons. They say In These Rooms “…take what you like and leave the rest…” I am blessed to be able to take what I like from my father’s life. But in standing on his shoulders, I also have a responsibility to leave what won’t make me a better man and father when it’s my turn. This is My Obligation…”

Doug

“…I got in this heated argument with my old man. I was smelling myself. I raised my voice at him and was talking back at him to his face. I don’t know to this day what we were arguing about. He pinned me against the wall and told me “…don’t you ever fucking forget where you come from…” When I keep this straight, I admit life works. This is My Obligation…”

Kirk

“…Being all I can be drives me. My parents are on the faculty here where I’m attending college. There’s pressure on me to do well (their words not mine). I’m running for Student Government President and losing is not a fucking option. I needed to win at all costs. Winning they make clear is my responsibility to show we are winners. They are driving this shit into me daily. This is My Obligation…”

Stephen

Thanks Brother Said. That’s it. That’s the Obligation In These Rooms. Make sure one gets what they need and can use and leave the rest of that shit for somebody else. Getting right with the stuff from my past requires dealing with the simple shit that ain’t easy and letting the other stuff go. This is also true for me today as a father. My mother always told me “…you are an intelligent young man but damn boy the little things…” Yep, dealing with the simple shit that ain’t easy. This is my deal now as a father. This is my truth and I’m sticking the fuck to it. That’s My Obligation.

Read more about Doug, Kirk and Stephen and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #MyObligationMatters

The Struggle Continues….

I met Michael In These Rooms. He is a 30-year black male drug addict, drug dealer and alcoholic. He says he began drinking and using seriously at age 22 when the woman of his dreams aborted the birth of his son without ever consulting him. He said “…I’ve had the barrel of a gun in my mouth behind her shit on more than one occasion. They’ll write on my tombstone, “Life for Michael has not been never happy, joyous and free…”

“Well, son, I’ll tell you:

Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

It’s had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor —

Bare.

But all the time

I’se been a-climbin’ on,

And reachin’ landin’s,

And turnin’ corners,

And sometimes goin’ in the dark

Where there ain’t been no light.

So boy, don’t you turn back.

Don’t you set down on the steps

‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.

Don’t you fall now —

For I’se still goin’, honey,

I’se still climbin’,

And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair”.

Langston Hughes “Mother to Son”

Sometimes it’s not that we can’t heal but we are Afraid to Heal and don’t believe even a healed life is going to be any damn better or any crystal stair. We make peace with the status quo. We make peace with the shit from our past, the miserable shit we’re living thru right now and the shity dead end futures we’ll live into tomorrow.

“…I loved and hated my father. I respected him and feared him but I didn’t feel love for him and didn’t understand how he could be so hard on me if he loved me. I needed him to love me. There was this time these kids in the neighborhood ganged up on me and attacked me, calling me nigger and other hateful shit. When I got home and my old man saw the tears on my face and I told him what happened, he grabbed me and took me back to the home where the shit happened and threatened to kick the ass of the man whose yard this happened in if some shit like that ever happened to me again. I beamed with immense pride in my father in that moment. That’s what his love felt like. Now that he’s gone, I know he loved me. Being Afraid to Heal is my fear of acknowledging the ways in which I am like him and that I am standing on his shoulders and will one day need his strength to raise my son…”

Doug

“…High school feels good even though I’m with people who never see me for me. I’m doing something and being somebody. I know deep down I’m not accepted for who I am. I’m a known athlete. I’m a drug dealer on the come up and ladies’ man. Inwardly, I want acceptance. I want the people I run with to accept me for me. But how can they? I don’t know me and won’t and can’t let others see me for me. Even if this healing shit is an option, I don’t want it. It sounds like getting real and being known. Not happenin, not right now…”

Kirk

“…I remember a girlfriend of mine in college telling me about when she told her mother about me, this guy she was dating whose name is pronounced Stephan. Her mother said “…that boy’s mother ain’t name him no damn Stephan. His name is Steven…” She was right. My given Christian name is Steven but Stephen (Stephan) was cool and who I wanted to be. I don’t want to heal whatever the fuck has me on this path. I enjoy being Stephen. Afraid to Heal. Okay. But I’m rolling being Stephan. Life is good. As Tupac sang, “…All Eyes On Me…” Maybe I’ll get to your healing shit later. But right now, I’m focusing on this honey crossing the yard in them tight ass shorts that belong to her little sister and that halter-top showing her big ass damn…” 

Stephen

It’s said “…sometimes the devil you do know is preferable to the angel you don’t know…” This is the deal with healing. Sometimes it‘s not that we can’t heal. The truth sets us free. Sometimes we’re just fucking afraid.

Read more about Doug, Kirk and Stephen and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #HealingMatters

The Struggle Continues….

The other day In These Rooms I heard a man say in introducing himself “…I’m a real alcoholic…” I was immediately reminded of the line from the tale Snow White “…Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of us all?” In These Rooms, it’s more like “…who’s the most fucked up of us all…” Or, as someone said of these rooms, this is the land of all the broken and misfit toys. But what the hell is A Real Addict anyway?  And what the hell is up with this damn One-upmanshit (the technique or practice of gaining a feeling of superiority over another person). I thought no one is In These Rooms because their ass was on a damn winning streak? 

The fucking craziness of this One-upmanshit reminded me of when I was part of a homeless church ministry that developed affordable housing to get people off the street. I noticed as part of this work there seemed to be tension between people who were still on the street and those who had were now living in the affordable units we built—they had little or no communication. I inquired of one of the team what this apparent tension was about. He explained to me that, as a norm, the people who are living in the units don’t communicate or associate with people on the street because they look down on them; the housed group feels they are now better than those still on the street (BTW, the people on the street don’t communicate or associate with people in the units because they see them as sellouts. Hmmmm).

“…Here’s the funny thing about that One-upmanshit. If you’re In These Rooms, you’re here because you’re on a crawl back journey from hell, like I was, and your ass is falling off, who in the hell has the damn time to be looking down on any fucking body else? There are no atheists in the foxhole as the saying goes. Seems to me, if your ass is on fire, your fucking concern ought to be on putting your own damn fire out not focusing on the size of mine. Just saying…”

Yalie

“…We are all fallen, flawed and fallible. We all have our demons. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. Most of us sit down to shit and we all have gangster proclivities. No one is better than anyone else for everybody has some shit going on and the ground is level at the foot of the cross. We are all trying to get home the best fucking way we know how…” 

Hunter

“…From where I sit, we’re all Real Addicts if our focus is on other-inflicted wounds and not our self-inflicted wounds. My community ain’t In These Rooms but it’s a community of Real Addicts. We are addicted to the same old scripts and storylines of playing the victim and carrying the baggage of American victimization…”

X

Well said X. Well said. Playing the Real Addict is the lived truth for many of us. Maybe Snow White was onto something. Maybe this life thing is about who’s the most fucked up of us all. A Real Addict.

Read more about Yalie, X and Hunter and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #RealAddictsMatter

The Struggle Continues….

My life partner Samantha and I were swimming the other day when Samantha noticed this woman whom she felt was strikingly attractive underneath the mask and glasses she was wearing. I told her given what I could see of the woman I would definitely wait until she removed both before commenting. From where I stood, I wasn’t seeing what she was seeing, mask or no damn mask. There is some shit not even wearing a damn mask can help. 

Liz is a 40-year-old Hispanic female. She is In These Rooms after receiving her 4th DWI. She is a Little Person but has two grown children and an ex-husband, neither of whom will have anything to do with her because of her drinking. She is currently out on bail as she’s facing time for her latest drinking rampage for which she’s also facing a 1st degree hit and run charge. Fortunately for her, the young boy she hit was crippled but will make it. Liz described wearing a mask as symbolic with our character defects. She said “…we need to unmask to see what’s left and that’s who we really are.

 “…Speak for your damn self lady. I am more than anybody’s fucking character defect…”

Fr. Esteban

“…I don’t get it Liz. You went from 4 DWI’s, facing time and a crippled child behind your shit to copping to a damn character defect. Really? Sister, you belong on the road with me. Your ass has a future in Stand-Up…” 

Yalie

I was in the bookstore the other day when I encountered my first proverbial ‘Karen’ (google the term if you don’t know what the hell a ‘Karen’ is). She came in the bookstore without a mask and got indignant when she was asked to put one on. Loud drama ensued when she refused. She took out her phone and began a profanity laced rant on one of the social media platforms as she walked through the store cursing and yelling “…this is Texas and this mask requirement bull shit is undemocratic and what motherfuckers do in communist countries. Yea, I’ll leave but I’m blowing your piss ass store up on social media…” With or without the mask as Liz said, what is left here ain’t too pretty. As my mother would say, “…beauty is skin deep but ugly is to the bone...” Mask notwithstanding. 

Wes is a 37-year-old white male whose been trying to sober up for over 10 years. He is on probation for a DWI but has bigger problems. This is his second one, he drives for a living and one is grounds for immediate termination. He is also two years behind on child support for his three children for whom his wife is the custodial parent and he is facing a reckless endangerment charge with his last DWI because his 10-year-old son was in the back seat of the vehicle when the cops pulled him over. In These Rooms today, he was going on and on about how sick he’s been with Covid-19 but he’s better now and how good God is no matter what happens. This he said is “…the belief that has sustained him…” But while he’s sitting here pontificating about how good his God is for bringing him thru this deadly shit, he doesn’t have the damn decency to Wear a Mask even though his ass had COVID within the last 30 days.

“…One could conclude this behavior is indicative of the selfish nature of humanity and/or the selfish application of the teachings of this program…”

The Professor

Sorry Professor, but I believe this shit is indicative of people In These Rooms who would be in Hollywood if their asses could pass a damn screen test. If you ask me, not that anyone did, failure to admit that shit speaks to the deeper mask they’re wearing. Just saying.

Read more about Yalie, the Fr. Esteban and the Professor and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #WearingAMaskMatters

The Struggle Continues….

Wesley is a 37-year-old white male. He is a veteran of the US conflict in Afghanistan and has a prosthetic on his right side for the leg that was blown off by a landmine his last Tour of Duty. He is married and has three children, ages 6, 8’and 11 but he rarely sees them. Wesley and his wife are separated because of his habitual drunkenness and use of the drugs to address his PTSD. In These Rooms, he described his alcohol addiction and use of meth, cocaine and occasionally heroin to quiet the voices he hears as Cursing the Darkness. Wesley said “…not doing the shit I know will give me back my family with the booze and drugs is me cursing the damn darkness…”

Thanks Wesley. Let’s go deeper into Cursing the Darkness.

“…We are not here to Curse the Darkness. We are here to Light a Candle…”

John F. Kennedy

“…Placing expectations on other people, places and things instead of placing them on our inner characters is Cursing the Darkness. I spent years under-achieving and looking at myself thru the lens of others instead of being the best I could be. I was Cursing the Darkness. I looked at what others were doing and achieving academically and lamented the head start they had in life while using this as an excuse for my fears and my sense of inferiority. I was Cursing the Darkness. I tried living according to the way I thought other people saw me. I come from a community who live every day in America according to the way others see us. That is, people who are at best indifferent to our health and wellbeing. I see all this now as Cursing the Darkness…”

The Professor

“…I’ve lived thousands of trials in my life. I could go on and on about them and some of this shit actually happened. I was introduced to this concept called Rule #6. Rule #6 has helped me move beyond a lot of the shit of my past. Not using Rule #6 when it is the cornerstone of my life toolbox is me Cursing the Darkness. What is Rule #6? Don’t take yourself so God-damn seriously…” 

Yalie

“…The redemptive power of the cross is the love of and trust in a God that empowers us to embrace and even celebrate the gift of our faults and the songs of our souls…“

The Professor

“…I Cursed the Darkness for years complaining about shit I thought was wrong, unfair or unjust. I’m great at finding fault with other people and their shit. I’m damn good at focusing on and complaining about what others have done to me. But I call it Cursing the Darkness when I never stop to look at the man in the mirror. Me. I call it Cursing the Darkness when I put all my fucking energy into complaining about other people’s shit instead of seeking to discover the redemptive narrative power in my story and in the stories of others…”

Hunter

“…What lies behind us and before us pales in comparison to the power that lies within us…”

Ralph Waldo Emerson 

To know all this, to believe and most importantly to act on it, that is Lighting A Candle. To do otherwise, that is our Cursing the Darkness.

Read more about Yalie, the Professor and Hunter and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #Cursingthe DarknessMatters

The Struggle Continues….

David, a 38-year-old white male who looks like a holdover from the 60’s complete with goatee and a long silver mane in a ponytail, says he been in and out of these rooms for 15 years. He is twice divorced and currently engaged. He is proud to say he takes loving care of his children since being released 8 years ago from prison for a 4-year DUI Vehicular Homicide sentence. He has a decent job these days and is a good employee when he’s not calling in sick (drunk). In his In These Rooms’ share, David said “… I use to boldly declare what I wouldn’t do, not even for A Million Bucks. But hell, look at me. I’ve fucked my life up for a couple of drinks…” Damn, I thought; that’s some sick fucking shit. I thought, ‘this is a level of powerlessness that is beyond me. ‘

 “…Yea, there are things I thought I wouldn’t do for A Million Bucks, but I’ve done shit I never imagined for much less. Being molested, that shit wasn’t my fault. But, staying in a relationship with my molester for money and material gain. That’s my shit. That’s about my shame and feeling unworthy and unloved. I get it now down to the marrow in my bones…” 

Yalie

“…What does it profit a man to gain the whole world but forfeit his soul?”

Mark 8:36

Then, Victor, a 29-year-old Hispanic male meth dealer and alcoholic out on bond and facing third strike life imprisonment for possession with intent to distribute 110pds of meth, laid this question on the table In These Rooms: “…Hell, what would you do if you hit the next Powerball Lottery for like $412,855,342.00? I wanted to speak up and say in the words of the late African American Poet Laureate Maya Angelou, “…I wouldn’t take anything for my journey now…” 

“…Fuck that shit. That kinda cheese can heal a whole lotta damn wounds. Fuck benefiting from the shit of my past. With that kinda cheese, I can fucking change my history and my future. Besides, I got scores to settle, there’s motherfuckers I want to take out, and that kinda bank can me make me the most dangerous black man in America. I know all them fools who say money don’t buy happiness and you can’t take it with you, but it can get my ass real close, and I’ll drag that damn bank as close to the fucking grave as I can get it…”

Fr. Esteban

A Million Bucks or 400 Million, fact of matter is money is a magnifier. It is often said money changes people. But it doesn’t. Whatever I am without money, I gonna be a whole lot more of that same shit with it. It only reveals and magnifies who the fuck we’ve been all along. 

“…There is a saying In These Rooms we are as sick as our secrets. What have I made of myself? Who am I when nobody is watching? Do give I into my predilections to pornography, drinking, infidelity? Am I honest with not only others but myself? Feeling powerless is common to the human experience. What have I done because I felt powerless and wanted to be powerful? That’s my shit. The late legendary attorney Johnnie Cochran once said ‘we are doomed to repeat that which we don’t complete’…”

Hunter 

What wouldn’t I do for A Million Bucks? A Million Bucks or 400 million. Hell, I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do. I don’t have either one yet and I have done so much for less. I can still taste that powerlessness in the back of my throat. 

I’m learning daily who the fuck I am and what I’m capable of. For getting here on the journey, I can tell you I am eternally grateful.

Read more about Yalie, Fr. Esteban and Hunter and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #AMillionBucksMatters

The Struggle Continues….

Jessie, a 32-year-old white divorced mother of 3 children, is unemployed, alcoholic meth addict who has 4 DWI’s and is fighting with Child Protective Services to keep her children and her ex-husband to get three years of back child support, raised Acceptance as the topic this evening In These Rooms. Jessie says “…what I love most about the past is it’s the past…” She said she is hoping to find Acceptance In These Rooms. I find it curious how often this topic comes up In These Rooms. I also find it damn curious how often I hear the same people who say they found Acceptance In These Rooms also say “…I am not that person any more or I don’t want to be that person anymore…” Hmmmmm….

It’s said people would rather see a sermon than hear a sermon. This is what Acceptance and lack of Acceptance look like: 

“…The need for Acceptance drove me to stay connected to the man who molested me. What wouldn’t I do to be somebody? Feeling powerless and wanting to be powerful. My need for approval has been my drug of choice. There I was, bending into a pretzel to be thought somebody. My need for Acceptance kept me from being present to myself and understanding who I was. I thought I knew what I wanted from life and what I wanted to become but how could I having never found self-love? My Acceptance today is embracing all this shit as part of my Higher Power’s twisted but empowering sense of humor. I get it…“ 

Yalie

“…When I’m rolling hard, I don’t have time to be worried about who I did or don’t want to be or who the hell accepts me. What the fuck people think of me doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. Acceptance to me is people accepting that if you get in my fucking way your ass is gettin run the fuck over. I want people to get that my Higher Power didn’t put me on this damn earth to be nobody’s fucking doormat nor to take no Goddamn prisoners. Like those people In Kirk’s Rooms, I ain’t down with no damn causes and don’t like controversy unless it’s of my making. I ain’t here to take sides. I believe my God put me here to take the fuck over. You asked. This is what this fucking Acceptance shit looks like to me…”

Fr. Esteban 

 “…Hell, Acceptance is believing I am the hero of my story. My lifelong struggle has been to find and believe in a purpose, my purpose. I know I can’t change my past but I’m finding the courage to make sense of it. I’m learning who the fuck I am and the meaning of shit that has been knocking me on my ass all my life. Yea, I’m making sense of and finding peace with my past. This is a beautiful thing. I want to make a difference in this world. I want the shit I’ve been thru not to be in vain. That is finding Acceptance. My Acceptance is embracing and even celebrating the fucking shit of my past and my humanity…”

Hunter 

Today, Acceptance means: 1) I’ve stopped hating being who I am; 2) I not only embrace who I am but I also celebrate the gift of my faults; 3) I don’t see myself as a bad person trying to become good or a sick person trying to get well. I am a badass becoming more fully human and beautiful; 4) I am free to create the world I want to see and draw myself as the hero of my narrative; 5) I am free to keep evolving; and 6) I have been empowered thru this work to turn the wreckage of my past into the gift of my salvation. This is my Acceptance.

Read more about Yalie, Fr. Esteban and Hunter and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #AcceptanceMatters

 The Struggle Continues….

I Heard a cat In These Rooms say “…My Ego is not my Amigo…” Right away my antennae went up. Here comes some In These Rooms character defect bullshit.

“…An empowering step in transformation is when we stop placing expectations on other people, places and things and instead place them on our inner characters…”

The Professor

 “…In college, I went from being a C and D Student in my freshman year to receiving no less than an A- after the first semester of my sophomore year and I finished Magna Cum Laude. I went on to receive my Master’s Degree. My Ego drove me to academic achievements and intellectual heights beyond my wildest dreams. This comes from the kid who is the son of academics but who barely graduated high school and had no greater ambition following high school than graduating and moving to California from Kalamazoo, MI to live on the beach. My Ego has definitely been my Amigo. My Ego got me up off the mat of life and pushed me to make something of myself. It’s given me the tenacity and intestinal fortitude to keep pushing and moving forward despite the obstacles in my way…”

The Professor 

“…Our Ego as our Amigo doesn’t look anything like sainthood. “…As they say, beauty is only skin deep but ugly is to the damn bone…”

Yalie 

“…Hell no. My Ego hasn’t been my Amigo. My Ego got me in a destructive relationship with a senior priest in seminary who molested me. My Ego, with its twisted damn feelings of unworthiness, kept me all knotted up in that shit when it should have and fucking could have done better for me. My Ego had me confuse material happiness with being some damn body. I accepted shit from that pervert I never thought I was capable of. But that was then and this is now. Now, I can see that fool for who he is and know authentically who I am. I focus on the humor in the shit I’ve been thru. I’m damn sure he ain’t getting real wherever the fuck he is. I bet he can’t say that shit. Today, I’m working to be at peace with my Ego. Yea, today I’m working at my Ego as my Amigo cause when it comes to the comedy game, even on a bad day, this is the struggle that will keep me rocking it…”

Yalie

Beverly, a beautiful 27-year-old Asian female who is admittedly alcoholic, hears voices, and is clinically depressed and suicidal, says of her Ego: “…it’s a fear that drives me to drink for I feel I will be proven not good enough…”

“…My Ego was bruised from an early age. Raised in the predominantly white neighborhoods on the so-called better side of town, the kids called me nigger so much I thought it was my middle name. I ran with other privileged white and black youth who did the same shit; drugs, theft, sex. I grew up feeling insecure, with a debilitating sense of unworthiness despite the privileged neighborhood where I grew up. You name it and I did it, seemingly escaping the consequences of my actions. But my Ego didn’t escape any of this shit. It was tortured, it raged, it was confused, and it has always been confrontational. I went to my 40-year high school class reunion with my life partner a few years back. This guy named Dan came up to us and was telling my life partner what I was like back then. Dan said to Kathleen ‘…Man he was always in trouble; he was always fighting…’ My Ego felt used, abused and confused. But my Amigo has been kicking ass and taking names from way back. Hell yeah. My Ego is my damn Amigo…”

X

“…God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference…”

Serenity Prayer

Serenity is finding that thru all this shit and the darkness, yes, my Ego is my Amigo. 

Read more about X, Yalie and the Professor and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #EgoandAmigoMatter

“…The Struggle that Continues is the joy in the journey not the destination…”

X

The topic In These Rooms this morning was Seeing Around Corners. How in the hell does one See Around the Corner? What the hell does that shit even mean? Alice, a 38-year-old black woman who was homeless from her alcoholic life but is now a practicing registered nurse and mother of a teenage son, who, she is proud to share, is an honor student, says “…I saw recovery was not going to be my own. It comes from and belongs In These Rooms…” Damn, I thought, that shit Is messed up. Why doesn’t it belong to her? But hell, she saw something and her shit Is working out. Real talk.

Cornelius was this cat from high school. His family owned a funeral home. He came from a family of morticians. We had Drivers Ed together in high school. When Cornelius got his license, he was different from the rest of us. We were speed demons; we couldn’t drive fast enough. Everywhere he went, Cornelius would drive far to the right and slow, sometimes holding up traffic because of how slow he was driving. We didn’t get that Cornelius was practicing for that funeral hearse he would one day drive. Cornelius drove slow because he could See Around the Corner; he could see into his future. He could see what he would one day become. Today, Cornelius still drives slow and today he drives that hearse he always saw himself driving.

“…I’m not no damn Cornelius. I ain’t necessarily down with this Seeing Around Corners shit. Corners don’t mean shit to me, never have. Though I barely finished high school and probably wouldn’t have gotten into college if my old man weren’t on the faculty, I’ve been determined to be somebody and make something of myself since I came from the womb and by any and every means at my damn disposal. I liked drugs, alcohol and the honnies from grade school and I’ve always been down with gettin my hustle on. Like I told Kirk, that professional, priest shit is cool if we’s scoring and fucking getting paid. That for me is fucking Seeing Around Corners and how I see being somebody. If we ain’t making major moves or scores, hell we ain’t arrived; we ain’t doing shit. I’ve seen big shit in my future from the gitty…”

Fr. Esteban

The 12 Step Recovery Book In These Rooms speaks of a spiritual awakening. After 62 years, and the addictions of alcoholism, pornography and loving me some grand theft auto, Seeing Around Corners looks like the story of my mess for His Message. Seeing Around Corners isn’t any psychic shit. It is stories that give others strength in the face of despair and hope in the face of darkness. Seeing Around Corners can be a beautiful thing that transforms “in spite of.”

“…Hey, given my drinking issues, I’m probably not the best one to speak on Seeing Around Corners. If I could See Around Corners, I would have seen my drinking problem coming before it knocked me on my ass. Hello. Surfing the TV Channels one night, I stumbled across the famous singer Dionne Warwick hosting a psychic hotline channel. I recall reading months prior of her being in financial distress to the point of bankruptcy. There’s nothing to be ashamed of about filing for bankruptcy. Hell, in life shit happens. Been there and done that. I’m dealing with the financial repercussions of that shit to this day. But, in seeing her on that psychic channel, my mind went to the question “…if she is so psychic, why didn’t she see that damn bankruptcy coming?” Just saying. 

“Today, I see a powerful work ahead in my life helping people tell the disruptively heroic stories of their authentic lived truth. Yea, I’m rolling with that. Put me down for Seeing Around those Corners if that’s the hell we’re up to…”

Hunter

Read more about Fr. Esteban and Hunter and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #SeeingAroundCornersMatters

 The Struggle Continues….

In These Rooms, I heard Timothy, a 38-year-old white diabetic on dialysis, hospice chaplain, alcoholic and cocaine user in need of a kidney transplant, say “…’If’ we had cancer and were told showing up here every day would help, who in here right now wouldn’t be in here every day?” Right. That’s why he says he shows up every day. Regarding the power of ‘If,’

 “…’If’ my aunt had a dick, she’d be my uncle, right…”

Yalie

We attach so much power to the two-letter preposition ‘If’. In These Rooms, “If” often means “If only.” I hear people say shit like” … ‘If’ the cop hadn’t stopped me, then I wouldn’t have gotten that DWI…” Or “…’If’ the the bar closed at midnight instead of 2:00am, then it would have been closed when I got there and I would never have been drinking that night…” There’s a saying on the street that indicates when a lie is being told: “…What had happened was…” “What had happened was…” is one big f..king ‘If only’ on steroids.

“I was caught stealing from my grandmother’s home and business. Caught red-handed with the money from the tavern cashbox in my pocket. My running buddies were in the car ready to hit it when Sarge, my grandmother’s husband, rolled up on us. I was in the bathroom getting the cash out of the cashbox under the sink when there was this loud banging on the door and this thundering voice, “…come out of there God-damnit. I know what the fuck you’re doing in there. Get out here now damn it…” This happened. There is no ‘If’ on this earth powerful enough to change that. No ‘If’ can change the fear I felt in that moment. No ‘If’ can change the shame I felt when I had to stand before my family and admit what I had done, apologize and ask for forgiveness. There is no fucking ‘If’ powerful enough to change any of this shit…”  

Fr. Esteban

 “…Hell no, nothing can change our past. Yep, shit has and does happen. I was sexually molested while in Seminary. This abusive relationship went on for 14 years before I found the courage to leave that world. I can’t change that or the past. Today, I am crawling back from that hell. I’m no longer trying to change it; today I embrace it. ‘If’ I embrace it, maybe I can use it for good. No, I can’t change the shit of my past. But ‘If’ I can embrace it, maybe there is someone who can find strength from my journey back from the shame of this hell. ‘If’ I embrace it, maybe I will one day be able to transform the deep pain I feel into a cause for celebration on the inside instead of masking it thru my laughter on the outside. Yea, I was molested but I can still dream ‘If’ I can keep moving forward despite my past…“

Yalie 

“…Transformation is coming to accept, appreciate, and even love your inner characters and where they have carried the man or woman in the mirror despite your past…”

The Professor

Will Yalie’s growing perspective on her past ever cause her aunt to grow a dick and suddenly become her uncle? Hell no. Will coming In These Rooms help with cancer? Doubtful. But these are our damn stories. ‘If’ only we can stick to them.

Read more about Yalie, Fr. Esteban and the Professor and tell your story. Listen to Hunter’s Podcast. All on wreckedamerica.com. In Wrecked America, #IfMatters

The Struggle Continues….