Out of Bounds

What I used to think about boundaries

Really, boundaries? But aren't those sort of like make believe rules or laws? Which sort of don't apply to me & are sort of made to be broken? There was a time not too long ago that my immediate answer would have been,"No thanks, not for me, not in this lifetime." I am a rebel, an outlaw, or at least a terminally unique individual, not one to conform to social norms.

I am sitting here alone (imagine that) inside of my head - pondering "Just why is it that I have such an issue with the concept of boundaries?" Why is it that I attach my own meaning to the actual practice & principles behind setting them, or even worse yet, OBEYING them? (yes even my own) I actually don't fully comprehend having boundaries set, holding to them & how they pertain to my own life. My life in recovery, my life in relationships, my life in business.

 I really don't have logical explanations, or hard evidence, of why my perception of boundaries has always meant someone was imposing one upon me. Ones that I most likely would have never chosen for myself. Since I don't like others making these unilateral decisions that affect my life, I believe it plays into my storyline that "everyone goes away in the end" or that "loving Jesse" is out of the question when others have formed protective boundary lines.

The negative connotations of them echo loudly through my skull as I know full well the very next phrase goes a lot like : 

"I can't see you anymore, I need to focus on myself or career, or any number of things that do not involve you anymore"

"I can't date you anymore, you don't have enough recovery time under your belt yet, but for what it's worth, I believe you have a lot of potential."

What I know I should know about boundaries

I am not sure if I think I'm above boundaries because I'm so cool, so extreme, so good looking, so charming, so terminally unique, to be bound by anything - people, places, things, idea, or philosophies.

... I have been through a bit of therapy & recovery to have had the phrase of establishing "healthy boundaries" thrown my way a time or two. It has been suggested to me that having my own boundaries would be a positive thing as well.

Times I know I should have obeyed boundaries, but didn't

When I think of boundaries, I envision myself testing them, pushing them, bending them, questioning them, & ignoring them. After all...do they really even apply to me? My mind then recalls times in the past that I've felt en(forced) by them. 

Example:


Might I of been the one who pushed some boundaries one cold January night as a K-9 police dog named Tex drug me through a yard by both hands while five police officers wrestled me into handcuffs after I laid in hiding from them motionless for what seemed like hours?
Yes.

this is real.

Example: 

Did I once consider a protective order being put in place the accustomed language used to communicate that my relationship with my daughters mother is probably not going to work out this one last time? Yes.

this is also real

Example:



Have I chosen over & over to believe I could convince someone who had justifiable concerns of the direction we were heading to just stay in love with me?  

To let it play out on blind faith without establishing clear expectations or set boundaries? To just stay in an intimate relationship with me, after they have decided to establish healthy boundaries that we are most likely not emotionally equipped to take on such a task at this point in our story lines?
Most definitely

Have I ignored my own boundaries in life? Have I relapsed, gotten into relationships too early, not given recovery my all?

What I know I am slowly learning about boundaries

Has thinking I'm above boundaries landed me behind bars, hand cuffed in the backseats of cop cars, dog bites, ambulance, emergency rooms, restraining orders, blocked numbers, ignored calls?. Yeah, though I've made it through each and everyone of those mishaps. 

This time I've maintained my sobriety, grabbed ahold of recovery & the 12 steps with all that I have... well, because that is really all I have. The one boundary I have set for myself is to not pick up, no matter what. It is hard to see the results of doing this work at times when you are as sick as me.

It feels so much like despair at times to deal with life's current events. The unfamiliar sensations of longing running their course through me. I have never been the type to stay in the moment when the moment fucking hurts, all the while knowing a temporary solution is out there by the name of sex, drugs, n' rock & roll that always deliver what it is they promise. "Head Change"

THIS.
"You cannot see the reasons now, it may be sometime before you begin to understand why... but if you walk through this... if you stay in each painful moment of growth,I promise you clarity, strength, & purpose on the other side."


I've been TOLD this, I've been HEARING this.... but for the first time in my LIFE I've actually been LISTENING to THIS. Mere suggestions from other people who have been through the same life scenarios & somehow didn't find the NEED to get loaded or escape these WHITE-HOT feelings that seem like they will KILL me if I linger with them a MOMENT longer.

The problem with my boundaries are they intertwine right along with my expectations of others. Do you think others even know that I know I even have them? I thought I knew that others should know that I have boundaries & expectations of them respecting them.. but now I know they don't know.

Another You

This Will Destroy You

Metaphorically speaking. . . this "ism" has constantly existed, veiled dormant just below the surface of it all. Something ancient as time itself, surviving the eons, weathering the cataclysms, whilst spanning every generation of man ever conceived.

I have an undeniable itch buried within the internals of my psyche. It's a sensation I've felt for as long as I can recall.... the inclination to do something, anything to get outside of self. Fittingly, as a young child I could always be found outside. Growing up the first 5 years of my life at the end of a winding dirt road on 20 acres in rural West Virginia. It was an adventuresome boys dream-scape, & I explored it from dawn till dusk.
I ran. I searched. I chased. I escaped. From what, I genuinely had no idea. I knew when it was present, the only way I could figure out how to suppress the feeling was to not be.

Always searching.. under rocks, logs, debris & streams.

Some say there are a million ways to die... choose one. I'd say there are just as many ways to be addicted, to escape, to check out of reality. Many are illegal, considered immoral, unhealthy, unsafe, mind altering, or taboo. Some are part of everyday mainstream society, accepted & even condoned. Chances are, that if you partake in any process or substance addiction over time it will alter your brains chemistry, from caffeine to Heroin, sugar to porn, from chasing love to cutting yourself open (same damn thing~one scars your insides, while one scars your outsides )

While the main focus in my recovery has been refraining from drugs & alcohol, those are not even my real inner-most problems, as they were once my solution to make my life somewhat manageable. I have come to find through my research that I am in fact allergic to drugs n' alcohol & if used I break out in handcuffs. I become a frequent visitor of jails, hospitals, & institutions. Every time without exception.

Fall down nine times get back up ten.

Life usually goes well for me in a short amount of time when I refrain from using a substance or taking a drink. Though if I am true to myself & this entire process, my addiction can & does manifest itself in many various forms. These ways may be the lesser of many evils, & will most likely never land me behind bars, or strapped to a hospital gurney. However, I still feel like it's a trade off of one thing for another .. keeping me a prisoner behind these self-soothing walls, as a way of avoiding the discomfort of just being me, of the sensations I don't want to sit in & feel.

Are you escaping to your addiction or addicted to your escape?

I am here to call myself out on my shit. In the past 11 months of sobriety I have used the following to self-sooth &
to scratch the itch..

• Experienced Over-eating / heaviest weight of my life
• checking out on social media for escape
• posting on social media for validation
• partaking in a (healthy) dating relationship
• workaholic / fixaholic tendencies with my business
• falling madly in love / in crazy
• energy drinks / more caffeine than reasonable for human consumption
• sugar... (see above over-eating)
• riding my dirt bike excessively / with intention of escape
• losing the weight I previously gained (yo-yo dieting?)
• writing this recovery blog... journaling, writing these goddamn feelings out.
• Getting more & more bad ass tattoos

How else can you escape into addictions? Here are some popular ones along with the obscure.

Shopping, gambling, strip clubs, chocolate, coffee, compulsive working out, over exercising, cycling, extreme sports, tanning, cosmetic surgeries, chewing ice, pulling your own hair out, world of warcraft, online dating, video games, prostitutes, piercings, eating dirt, sex, masturbation, alcohol, religion, sniffing aerosol, adrenaline, stealing, fetishes, applause, drama, crime, people pleasing, risky behaviors, sexting, travel, voyeurism, women, the occult, love, joking about serious matters, isolation, hoarding, endorphins, attention, sleep,  

Here is what I have came to realize. I am & have always been the common denominator of this "ism" that I try to run from day in & day out... but why? You're supposed to love yourself. I'm suppose to love myself. Everybody should know that. I DO know that.. it hasn't been as rudimentary as it should seem for me to connect the dots.

Don't get me wrong, I think I'm a pretty swell guy most of the time. I think I'm one radical dude, good looking, charming, sense of humor, & gosh darn it, people like me.

 I even like myself... a lot. If I were someone else, I could see falling for me as a semi-rational choice.
 Since I've been working an honest program, I must confess that I am my biggest critic, I am very hard on myself, & find it somewhat hard to forgive my own mistakes, my own defects of character.

 It seems that when someone else loves me I tend to feed off of that, becoming me the best version of myself. But I've got it all backwards, if I feel external love, it validates reasons to have internal self love. If that external source goes away, fades, or proves inadequate... well, then my self worth begins rapidly to spiral downward. I take it all very personally that there IS something broken about me.

Now that this unbecoming plight of self has been exposed for what it is, I can begin to rebuild. To make progress.

I will do the internal work sufficient to obtain my emotional sobriety, the best version of self that I no longer desire to run from.

Upon meditating and praying to a greater power of my own understanding, I summoned "What am I supposed to learn from my recent struggles? ..."

An immediate and resounding response boomed back of "SELF" I take this omen as guidance to do the work of recovery on myself / for myself. Take care of myself, physically, mentally, spiritually.. Being the best version of myself in each  present day. Eventually this will lead me to love myself completely. I need to get the fuck out of my own way & allow everything the ability to fall into place as it should.

Will  getting a tattoo reminding me to have love in my heart for myself actually make any fucking difference? Who knows.. but all the drugs, alcohol, women, or other various  forms of escapism weren't a permanent solution.

I can see the progress, the changes. I mean.. I went from thinking I was Scar Face to Gandhi in a few short years for Christ sake..

A Dad, a Daughter, & a Disease

How does one delineate the character of a man? It's quite simple to outline his motionless body posthumously in chalk after he has repeatedly fallen to bottomless depths. Though it may be more difficult an attempt to trace his rising wings as he soars to unexplored heights.

 Is it a part of our human frailty to spotlight the negative or objectionable traits of our fellows over their positive attributes? I feel that I am quite guilty of this exact stance. Although, I am attempting to work through it with gratitude for each & every individual who has brought me joy, taught me invaluable lessons, or just stayed by my side  as my circle becomes smaller & smaller.


I think at times I may be difficult to define, or to put your finger on. If we break it down on paper I might look like this:

• I'm a dad of a 4 year old daughter.

• I'm a dad of a 4 year old daughter & I carry an incurable disease that will never die.

• I'm a dad of a 4 year old daughter, I carry an incurable disease that will never die, though it can be kept in remission through a rigorous program of recovery.

I may will never be societies ideal. I have to have optimism or at least hope that with commitment to my program & following through I can be the ideal version of myself ~ for myself.

"You either win or you learn" ~ my sponsor

 Coming to terms, that at face value, my 2 dimensional chalk outline appears to be a very bleak story line to be partnered with. This is proving to be hard to swallow, for the reasons that I'm thinking...
"I've done all this intricate therapy on trauma, abuse, addiction, & relationships. I've done intensive out-patient, EMDR, weekly group therapy, 12 step meetings.... so many fucking 12 step meetings.  I've even reconnected with my inner-child, discovered why my protective addict appears out of thin air to solve any & all problems I may face, and have delved into my functional self."



 My foolish pride & raging ego have the perception that I am the best option out there, no matter the reality of the situation at hand. 
Indispensable & irreplaceable.
I had other ideas. I planned that by exposing my depth & subsequent layers that I would be seen in 3-D, as a real man with character of worth. Worthy of staying with no matter the cost of future plans or present feelings.

"I was judging myself by the depths of my intentions, while the rest of the world judges me by the shallowness of my actions" ~ me

 We've all heard of, known of, or experienced first hand the disheartening stories about that same kind of person who lost, GAVE everything to their addictions. Can I be absolutely sure that it won't be me again? No, never can I say "never again will I do that ever again."... again. I can say that I will not today nor have I the 325 days preceding today. This is all I've got, while anything & everything I put in front of my recovery I will lose destroy.

I will give it away freely "IN the name of one more hit." every fucking time.

"If there may be qualities you admire in me now, traits 
that you have been able to find desirable or attractive in 
me , it is directly due to the fact that I am a dad, with 
a daughter, with an incurable disease that will never die, that can be kept in remission by practicing the principles I have learned in recovery in all of my daily affairs.'

Losing the Battle / Winning the War

Lose.Losing.Lost. Give.Gave.Gone. Forgive.Forgave.Forgone.

still right here.

The last few years of hanging around in the rooms of recovery have outfitted me with corrective lenses to view my ever evolving surroundings. It has altered my perspective on loss, or "losing things" vs. "giving them away." One can easily lose their car keys, passport, phone, wallet, wedding ring, or their favorite lighter (but we all know someone stole your lighter.)

I believe that societal history has been misleading to us all along.. novels, films, fairy tales, have all chronicled losing the love of your life, treasures, fortunes & fame. Or just losing your fucking mind. The actuality is that someone had some choices to make, & chose to let that shit go by the wayside.

"like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives."

In all of this world, in all of this life, all of time has passed through all of our hands exactly the same, & not one second of it was ever "lost." It has all been accounted for, highly documented, captured with time stamps, born on dates, & your snapchat story, & social media status updates. We choose to give our allotted time to whatever is our priority at that given moment.

 I have never been the unassuming victim of having "lost jobs, lost loves, lost friends, lost homes, lost marriages, lost sobriety dates, or of being a lost cause." Even though my insane thinking would lead me to believe that I am the casualty of many outside circumstances. The victim of myself...

There have been innumerable times in my active addiction that I used this terminology wrong..

• I didn't lose my memories to black outs, I gave them away to alcohol.

• I didn't lose countless mornings & days to hangovers, I gave them to the night before by throwing them into the bottomless abyss of a high tolerance.

• I didn't lose my marriage, my engagement, or any other meaningful intimate relationship thereafter I had plans of keeping. I relinquished them to my own self-will run riot, defects of character, foolish pride, ego, self-centeredness.

• I didn't lose my business in Phoenix to a floundering economy, I gave it away willingly tending to a stripper n' blow habit.

• I never lost precious time with my daughter, I traded it in to my relapses, choosing drug binges over play dates.

• I didn't lose my health, I gave it away to finding escape time & time again.

• Don't lose today by giving it to the regrets of yesterday, or the fear of tomorrow.

You don't lose people , people don't lose you.. or time with people, or relationships with people. You give it away to something else. You give in to your vice of choice or you choose to give up on your vices....

I really wasn't ever ( & I still fuckin ain't never not) considered a scholar or a gentleman of the English language during my formal schooling. I was truly terrible at writing papers & upon my work being graded & returned it usually had enough corrections in red ink to resemble a C.S.I. murder scene. I still know enough that I can't quite grasp the phrase "lost away" making as much fucking sense to me as "gave away."

If I find myself in love & being loved one day, (hypothetically) but then not the next day, perhaps someone chose to give away the present to something else entirely. There are ultimately two days you cannot live in: Yesterday & Tomorrow.

 It appears that time-traveling is the #1 culprit in fucking things up for this life.. letting our minds travel back into the past or too far ahead into the future. Both can be equally frightening..

Often times we find ourselves living in the fear of another failed relationship, fear of the unknown, fear of  giving up control, fear of what the future may hold, fear of selfish-pride, & letting our ego run the show.... still we won't see each other posting lost n found pictures on light posts around the neighborhood. We didn't file a missing item report with the local authorities, Probably didn't even tear apart the couch cushions, frantically looking under the bed, scratching our heads, where was the last place I saw it?  Constantly thinking "Now where the hell did I put my love for you anyway? It's has't been lost, it's just been given away to another priority, another time...You actually search for things that are lost, you don't hunt for them if you gave it away.

Many have seen me lose some battles, what they don't always stay around to see is how I continue evolving,  my perseverance, growing internally stronger, how I endure to wage a war they know nothing about. A war that I will conquer.