Hello world

I know. Very cliche. But, I am a product of my generation.

I am a person in long-term harm reduction from many things, but most notably of current ChemSex. I first got into serious long-term recovery on December 29, 2009. Since then, I’ve learned a lot about my patterns, my past, my passions and my personality. I’m a storyteller, connecter and artists. I use words and pictures to heal, inspire, express, create, learn, grow, and love.

This is my story.

I feel like my life has been slowing down to now, like the winding down of a ferris wheel after being shut off. I’ve heard it said that if you stay around long enough, the fog starts to clear. I’ve started to experience this sensation in new ways over the past weeks and months. I have enough time & space behind my active chemsex using days that some things are beginning to click.

I’ve come to accept that music plays a lot in my story. Over the years, I’ve used music to soothe, inspire, connect, heal, cry, laugh and tell my story. Likewise, I’ve written & told parts of my stories enough that I’ve started to remember that the more I talk about this, the more I heal. As with many times in my life, that’s an understatement of grand proportion. But let’s park that for now and continue.

I’ve been working more deeply on some of my shit to the point where a journal is of import. I struggle with writing and have come to accept that I express my thoughts better when I type. I’m also more likely to read it. And, the Universe is more likely to use my story to help someone – much like the life stories of people like Phil, John, Scott, Mike, Cathy, Ed, Phil, Marc, Lisa, Matthew, Mr. Rogers, RJ, Rick, Terry, Jeff, Jerry and Brandon. And the many of anonymous men whose name I may have known but have long sense forgotten.

I have a pattern. I have a type. I have a ritual. And as the fog lifts, I begin to see the ways in which that ritual has become embedded in every fiber of my physical body. I feel it in my breath. I feel it in the tightness in my chest. I feel it in the tapping of my feet and the gentle rocking of my body. With each motion or movement, I soothe my pain. I soothe my grief. I soothe my fear.

Today I noticed the ritual. Where it showed up. How is showed up. Driving. Under a mild influence of weed. Yes, there it is. Welcome to my life of moderation.

My drug choice has always been sex and meth. I used other substances as substitutes but nothing I’ve used gave me the sense of false sense of connection & freedom that I’ve longed for. It’s the story of my little boy, coming of age at 52, when I couldn’t experience what I needed to blossom in my 2nd chapter. Now that I’m in my 5th chapter, I am gaining perspective.

I started with alcohol until that no longer did the trick. I hid behind my prudish Mr Goody Two Shoes, which was just a mask I had learned to wear well. Keep them away. Don’t let them close. You will lose them. Again. And Again.

Ok, I’m tired. And that’s ok. Today is about self care. About a first step. About love, trust, hope, joy and faith. The greatest of these is love.


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I see life as full of possibilities and the world full of beautiful people possessing unique and often untapped talents. I’m a learner and connector, seeking ways to leverage the abundance in this world through strong community.

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