Slippin Slide Productions's blog: "we do recover"

91 days and on day 92 Addict name Carlton. I have something that just crossed my mind and I wished it hadn’t because now I have to write about it. Tomorrow if God risks waking me up to live by example for someone to follow then I will be grateful. But this is one of them times I normally celebrated my birthday getting high, drunk, and tied to the bed. Now I have to wonder where my amusement is going to come from? I can’t do a lot of the shit, which proved unfit for me, including sex, because some people aren’t mentally capable to have sane acts of lust, no instead, I won’t even get into that. Anyway, I am only talking about myself, because I know I am the subject and the end of the chapter. Fortunately, I am able to report I am not going to be locked up, institutionalized, or caught dead from using, on my 41st year on this earth. It sure feel like more time because of the shit I been thru and put people thru. 41 years, it seems no different then 40, but it is. I am not mad about the choices I made. In actuality, if was granted my wish, even though I prayed to change my life, I was suppose to be still practicing killing myself, because I grew accustom to it. My thoughts were if I was still using I was going to make this my last birthday getting or attempting to get high. But plans got changed. If you ever want to feel laughter from God, make some plans and watch how dramatically they change! This is no one but God telling me, you think you got control of something, HA! I beg to differ you can’t control your own destiny after I am summoned, I found that out quick. Look at me, I am 91 days ahead in my life, not locked up, started my business over, I might have or receive the type of love, I want, but who can honestly say they were rewarded that, outside being married?. Now remember I prayed for this time. And yes I have 91 days; I would have had much more, if I had surrendered when I first got clean. Instead I was constantly stringing days together, but never tying the knot to strengthen the bond, between me and my God. From June 26 to august 11 I wouldn’t combine any more then 5 to 8 days of not using. I really put in my mind, if I could just get away with some more pain, I could handle it. Oh that was even more hilarious to God, because he gave me a set of rules from the PO to the 12 step program to follow. I was looking for ways to not do it and I found them, but the pressure to find ways and means to get one was starting to get more and more complicated. I had to do the program and my guilt was surfacing and then the PO was threatening me. All sorts of shit said Fuck Sharief, let’s grab Carlton and take this help. At least fine out what could happen. I think the rules I took more serious was not the PO’s, but the 12 step program. Once I realize I had friends and strangers that looked at me and felt I am being groomed for something. That something is what I am trying to get the answer to. Every day I showed up and the mind was slowly following. One day that mother fucker got there by I did. Because I start institute this behavior at home. Of course I was fucking up a lot of people’s highs, but I wasn’t so why should they be able to enjoy theirs. I still feel that way 91 days later, because it still resides in my house. But change is going to come and that is me changing my address to join my attraction. I know today if I had thought about playing the hand I was dealt and kept getting high, I wouldn’t be walking around B-more without looking over my shoulders. I would have been locked the fuck back up probably for murder. I don’t think I would have been smart enough to run, because my shoes had me walking on the skin of my feet, my money was escaping out my grasp to fast to get a ticket to anyway. Hell I couldn’t even afford a bus pass (1.60 one way 3.50 all day), because my body was fiending. So I would had probably packed up and walked across town and prayed no one was looking for someone where ever I planted my bags. I am tired of getting caught on humbles. Now a day’s people are proud of me even if they can’t construct their mouth to spit the words out. My P.O. was one of them. Here is how my insanity works. I got to daydreaming wondering, if me being clean could get a date with this fine ass woman, especially since we knew each other personally. But I quickly snapped out of, because my best thinking got my ass set up. All I can do is put my hands in my pocket and play with my dick on the side, because I very seldom have money after bills. Isn’t that a bitch, this same mother fucker trying to be responsible. Anyway, my spondee brothers, sponsor, and the fellowship can’t get enough of me, yes me, doing this mother fucking thing like my life depend on. Hell it does, I only got the same options I started with life vs. jail or death. I am not the crazy type. That was the mask I put on, so people would give into me without a struggle. I do have some insane shit brewing in my gut, but I can control that shit for the most part and only because I am still learning how to arrest such things. I am not trying to let that shit get bail. Damn 41 and I can’t have even enjoy a sip of Beer, a breathe of weed or crack. I can’t even look at crack on a book covers or on TV commercials, the disease say you can get one and be alright, but i know better. Hell I can’t even sniff my baby I married first, Shirley (coke). I loved going to the corner store and buying me that nose candy. I and that bitch go back like lazy boy recliners. Just too bad she was just like a lot of women I dealt with, A BITCH NOT TO B FUCKED WITH. I really put myself in that category, because if I wasn’t so greedy do you know I would be dead anyway, because this shit don’t come with instructions or applications of whom to fuck with, who fuck with the shit. I ran with some people that would pass not just the bill with something on it, but the ass whipping, the bitch claiming she diseased free, and the bullet, because I was hanging with them. This is just some of the shit; I know I am still not safe proof from, if I return to my mayhem. I just have to always remember I am not going to always have nine lives. In reality I just kept recycling them obliviously, because I am still here. Either the devil fear I am going to try and put out his fire, so he told God lets live him where he at. Just for today I am happy I can’t have a crumb. For me even that is too much. Lord knows I don’t have enough money to kill myself with my requirement serving I like. And I am not going to ask no one, “Can you help me kill myself” after I finally felt 91 going on 92 days, again. What I learned is always better then what I knew. The shit I knew kept me in trouble.

90 fucking days People I repeat Addict name Carlton has 90 fucking days and I must snitch. Just before I started writing this in disclosed located at 1:10 am I finally got a moment of clarity. The disease manifest to me I was on the verge of using. I made it a liar once again. See one of the participants that is again being held hostage in the house and it is not against her will, started working again. She strolled or crept back to her old surrounding. She getting paid under the table and this enables her to creep back out and dip and not dab with her drug of choice. Now this same person I knew for a while and the same thing for her drug of choice, I knew it longer. And the funny thing about it I heard it whisper to me, as a matter of fact I felt the disease trying to intervene with my serene and clean space through out my today. When I heard I would be alone tonight with the animals and they would be roaming around freely my insanity side started roaming around looking for me. I might not was doing the talking about using, but it was constantly being mention and my disease was acting up through my listening. That was a sign I took to heart, because the disease was just plotting obstacles around me to see, if I was going to fall for the okie doke. I didn’t fail miserably like I would have 89 days ago. Thank God for safe havens like Dee’s Place and Boh’s place, because when the girl came home so did the disease. And this mother fucker threaten me with your alone, your hormones are scary, and drugs is nearby, so you can reenact Halloween all over again and go tricking and get that overdue treating taken care of, especially since you got a few dollars to waste. I automatically used the fire escape plan, RUN. It wasn’t even a fire and I felt the need to escape. The seed was planted when I decided to go to the house and drop something off before I went to my home group. When I opened the door it was dark for starter, but the weed smoke lid up the night. The smoke was thick I needed a gas mask so I could get some oxygen. Instantly I realized I was set the fuck up, because I was on the verge of catching a contact. The disease had his henchmen trying to corner me. My emotions resulted in anger and insanity was peeking for an opening to act out. My feelings was calling my name, just get one. I knew that feeling was just something of the past and needed not to be fucked with. I dropped everything and jetted to the meeting. I thought I had beaten the odds; well I did until the end of the night. That was when I was going to find out if we do recover? Girlfriend might have gotten mad, because I wasn’t chilling in the haunted house, but I will be damn, if I let any pussy jeopardize any portion of my recovery. To me as long as there is another recovering addict around that can hold my hand and make me feel I am ok, I can stroll thru the valley of the shadows death in Baltimore and fear no drug dealer. As long as I got thy 12-step literature and another addict, I will fear no disease. I think I spent no more then 15 minutes in that house and that still was too long, but now I know better. The best part of this situation occurring I am safe, clean, prayed up, and in a serene haven. Thank you God, I needed you and you showed up once again. I have faith and I have a sense of humor, because I know this was just another one of your jokes, except everyone but me was laughing. Make no mistake about it I was SCARED. I don’t mind taking my recovery seriously, because I took it for granted years ago and kept going to the barbershop hanging around thinking nothing of it or being clean. And one day I got all my hair shaven off. It took me 10 years to grow up the strength to get out that chair. I did take a one-year pause, but went back for my touch up. Like a dummy, i sat back in that chair and got a shave, shape up and some more shit beat out of me. It took me 3 years to get out that chair. This time I was dragged out kicking and screaming terrified of what I’m going to do now. Now I am kicking and screaming pass those barbershops. Believe me I see them in my rearview mirrors signaling me to stop by. Some even tried chasing me down with the clippers in his hands. Shit the motherfucker even got their bounty hunters looking for me claiming there is a reward, if I just turn myself in. I am wanted alive so I can finish killing myself. I got that information from my 12-step program everyday for 90 days, when I surrendered to cleaner ground. You know what if I didn’t go to 3 meetings, 1 anniversary, a big inspirational addict with 15 years clean, not to mention the crowd of 12 step movers and shakers, with double digits clean time, who is to say I would have had that armor of information to remember, I don’t have to use ever again in life. Hell I was the addict with lowest time and probably the most liked in the room, because I still believe Good Times is not just a sitcom, but also a cliché “One Day At A Time”. They like or love the idea I grasp enough to continue to try and live. Not only live, but live God’s way thru 12 steps, because when I tried my way I was making excuses not to live, by using chemicals, because drugs been got evicted out the equation to be truthful. The best part about that meeting was seeing damn near every face I met, shared with, hugged, or just was in their company at one meeting or another, I really feel they have love for me and I admire them. I want to live longer to celebrate the years like they have. I already have the remedy to get that time, pray, go to meetings, and don’t pick up. The hardest part is practicing patience, because I can only get there like they did. Take one day at a time. Years from now I am going to look back and say damn I made it. Problems arrive around my monumental clean celebrations every month. I can’t notice them in the beginning, but I always am on the lookout, but the disease is getting more cunning and craftier each time. I already seen it brewing, but just didn’t know when it was going to surface and how it was going to affect my judgment. The though came and went. I proved I was stronger then I thought. This time I was hooked and set up for the cloak and dagger, but the knowledge and escape plan I had blue prints for worked. Since God was pilot it went off with out a hitch. If I had decided to challenge the thought, I have been picking up my one-day key chain instead of my 90-day key change. I think once I looked in that mirror and saw my past behind me; I knew this was no place like home (a meeting). When I looked at how I liked weed just as much as coke and my support group would have supported me to blow one and the disease was trying to convince me they won’t tell. Immediately, I jumped out the fire and back in to the frying pan. I had a moment of clarity to see which of the lesser evils should I face, loneliness or using. After I thought about it I wasn’t going to be alone, I had God for company. Hell, those who I know claim they got my best interest at heart, make me wonder, but after careful research, I am still responsible for my own recovery. Fuck what they think I have to always remind myself. I don’t have to forget the disease will use them against me, like the courts use associates, buddies, and family against one another as well. So now that I learned how to give a fuck about my recovery and not what someone think, I could hear the disease snickering, “lets see you matrix yourself to avoid this next bullet. I knew the house always been like a war zone and yes, recovery is possible, as long as God is my pilot. I don’t mind being the co-pilot for life. With the experience I am getting, I could probably recover in Iraq with all the drugs over there as well. God knows I am in no way trying to experience nothing close to that, so don’t answer that like it was a wish and it wasn’t a suggestion either. I really know what it feels like to be alone, GOOD. I had been alone with a bunch of mutha fuckas I know, because they really have a strange way of including me in company I don’t find interesting or amusing. I can always identify with feeling WHY U HERE? That is the worst feeling in the world to be real and have to be social with Phony ass people. Being rude is not going justify why you here or make it more comfortable for the remainder of my stay. This is where coping skills 1001 come in. It is just like most people do with relationshits. Deal with what you have until you find the one you needed. In my case I’m on the toilet, I don’t have to shit I use it for a neutral zone, because outside of the bathroom I got to deal with shit that is viler then the shit I am full of myself. Ain’t that some shit? Just for today, once I am bless with seeing my open tomorrow, I will be thankful. It’s oblivious something was done for me I couldn’t do on my own. See my best thoughts got my thinking screwed up. Now I must be afraid of the disease, because it got me before and still trying. The only difference I am looking in the past in the mirror and I see a man that likes what he is growing up to be.

90 days Again An addict name Carlton. I want to thank God for letting me do it again. Yeah I was here 2 times already. Each time I did not have the information (a 12-step program) to keep my will going. I can honestly say since it was not God’s will I see why I did not stick around each time. Not so today, I got the power to keep me here, my God, a basic text, and a fellowship. When I was trying to stay clean the previous two times I had to feel my way around in the dark for the light switch. This time I can see where clarity is. It is solely in me today. I get my guidance solely from a 12-step program, the books, my sponsor, the fellowship and most importantly God. I can never rely on fear to lead my life. Shit I done that for a long enough. I was fearful of many things. These were the things that were not going to hurt me, but I let my disease tell me different. I should be running away from success. I should be running away from moral values. I should be running away from responsibility. I should be definitely running away from the higher power. Never once could I step out on blind faith, until I was I forced to. I was always hustling one thing or another in order to survive. After awhile I was doing like wise to get high. Shit I was the type of addict when I became desperate for that nose candy. I needed one just for the courage to do something about my desperation. If I did not have it, I would hook up with a co-dependant, who I would pay in the end just to watch my back. When a moment of clarity surface I would get mad of course because some times the price I paid was embarrassing. I was too self-centered to realize, if I never wanted what I thought would ease the pain. I would not have experienced some type of shit that would make fiend for more to erase the present pain. When I felt hurt, my emotions would drag race with my feelings. I did not want to feel my so call friends betrayed me. Never realizing I was an excellent opportunity for them and their was not any friendship involved. For a long time I stacked more shit on top of the shit I already soaring to the ceiling. My people love the way I thought I was doing something right or they loved how kind I was. They knew I was incapable of handling my hunger. They realized and appreciated I was their personal sucker. They would protect me from others, who would warn me, so they could replace them. They would fight over who hung with me; because they knew I was too kind hearted. More like a naïve child just learning how to get high, who would fall for anything, because I knew nothing? I thought in actuality I was doing something different to avoid getting my ass handed to me for a hefty price. Yeah, it was different all right, another game for me to learn. I never found out how to avoid being one of the pieces being lead around the board to the finish line. I was constantly giving and getting nothing in return. Might as well say I declared them the winner, because I could never seem to finish what I started. I was always willing to buy and true be told I used less then I thought I should have. I was like a house in the middle of a crack neighborhood, with the door wide open, minus the neighbors. I think I loved being robbed. We as addicts love the drama, it help feed the disease the realness of our dumbness. We perform the same routines looking for a different response and feel we should get it. I use to believe my out come would be different, especially if I avoided certain people. To no prevail nothing changed, but the faces. I was always under the assumption maybe I ran my mouth too much because I was happy I had someone who was just like me. Little did I know the only thing we had in comment was we got high. In his eyes I was the victim and he was glad of it. Once I lost all confidence in clowns that ran the zoo instead of performed at the circus, I stopped purchasing tickets for a no show performance. I got tired of getting several tickets, one to get in, see no animals, but have someone with me who swore to God they was there the day before and then want to get paid, because his time isn’t free. I thought I had a friend with me not a tour guide. Some thing is always fucked up when you buying drugs, but someone who didn’t have a penny in that nickel get higher and more then you. To me that is like grand theft narcotics. One thing a thief hate, I am talking about myself, is to be robbed by another thief. Be it volunteer or victimized. I was always a thief, whether it was petty larceny or grand theft, cut and dry I was a thief. I had no problem justifying it. To me I was Robin Hood. However, in actuality I was robbing the hood. I would rob friends of course and strangers without any concern to their feelings. I rational, mine was the only emotion that mattered. I ready hate the way I failed to identify myself on my friendship applications. The disease told me I did not have to admit to my friends I would baffle them with my cunningness. Hell I should be more then happy I have not been locked up, but that was the least of my worries. I should have been more worried about getting my ass kicked or killed. The disease said being caught was not an option. If I thought I was caught the disease said calmly, LIE. I could be caught on VIDEO TAPE robbing the bank. I would literally go to court and announce to the world I was NOT GUILTY. I have done it with a stern voice and straight face many of times. All the while I was sneakier then a snake. It was no shame to my game. I was compulsive with this shit. I would steal the rattle off a snake’s tail while he coiled up ready to attack. Let my insane thinking tell it, it was making to much noise anyway. If he were paying attention, I would not have gotten him. In addition, if someone would hold it straight I would try to fuck it to, because I was a whore that loves to steal women from men and woman, just for the fuck of it. I remember I use to rob women, especially my baby mother. I waited until she was in the hospital or at work once. I took her ATM and spend her money as if it was mine. The worst part I got mad at her when she questioned me about it. That was her money and I was so compulsive with my obsession about having money to spend my family could go hungry, I justified it with my insane thinking ass, I had to look good we could get food from anyone in her family. They not going to see US go hungry or homeless. God knows I was not into no paying back or payback. What right did I have to her money? She was my girl and she should have been willing to share, because I did not have any and she was stashing the money I had been giving her. This is just some of the insanity that I tortured my peeps with. Mind now this wasn’t my money so what fuckin right did I have to throw her out my house when she gave me some bounce checks and fucked up my account? Only got back what I did to her many relationships after her and I had the child and spreaded seas between us. The worst think I was going to whip her ass in front of boyfriend. That was some punk ass shit, but that was not the half of it. I had another one of children moms hold this person at bay with a knife I gave her to use. I ordered her to use it and taught her what to do. I had orchestrated the whole ordeal down to tossing her and my child out the door in the cold, especially after she called the cops. I really was so fucked up in the addiction and now my life style was dictating my using and spending, so she had threw a wedge in that process, I thought. I was truly living foul off the imagines tell lies to your vision was baby-sitting my mind with. I am so sorry for that time. I totally stung my growth, if was going to have any. I really paid for my action when I worshipped my disease’s need and not my families. I can remember how my friend, who is dead now, went to his grave without ever being repaid and for all this man done for me. He was my friend and I was not one in return, because Shirley with her sweet impression on my nose told me fuck him. He will be all right. My boy was locked up, I was receiving a payment thru the mail monthly for him, and you know how the disease makes you feel invincible. Well I was ten times that and cunning. However, like a snake I was willing and able to slither quietly thru short or tall grass to get to where I want to go. In addition, I would bit anyone along the way. In the beginning, I was serving my supposed to be purpose, but I got overwhelmed with greed. My desire increased over the months and my commitment decreased to nothing in the end. In addition, when I look this man appeared out of nowhere and I am under the assumption I am going to be killed by someone who probably should have looked like DeBo from Friday. I was shaken that morning and did not know what to do. Here I was doing my usual, fucking up the rest of morning from the night before. In addition, although I had some left I was not ready to depart with that. However, all turned out I seen what I saw and I ran with it. My boy was sickly and I took advantage of our friendship with promises to pay him back. The whole time the disease was teasing me with the thought of violence from his brother, who should have been mad, because it was his brother. He was mad, because he was not trusted like me. He would have done what I did from day one. That really hurt the shit out of my boy and he expressed his gratitude by not being the friend he use to be. He change over night and once again, I got mad. Here I go with my insane thoughts; he had no reason to hound me for money, product, or anything anytime he saw me. My thinking was more insane now that he was home. This man could have killed me, had I killed or whomever he sent would have been killed. I think him and his brother knew this. They being crack heads played a major part, because they use the “we are friends excuse”. Probably so, but in the back of their mind, they knew I was just as dangerous as they was. They knew it would have been no cakewalk, because I was always armed or had something that would have drew a family gathering to hear a will or split up insurance money. Moreover, vice versa for real. In actuality, we were scared and each of us was glad of it. They might not admit it, but I can. I am Sorry Black. It won’t happen to you again Black, of course, but I am saying today I won’t allow myself to do it to another person either and that is not just for today, but every day God blesses me to see another day. Now this one was a simple robbery. I was mean with this obsession when it came to the opposite sex. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone feelings I conned and charmed into tricking for me, paying me their pay check after they slaved, or just paid me because they felt they wasn’t going to be loved by me or continue to get fucked. Shit I already fucked them over enough after I think about it. I thank god for low self esteem women, due to poor either up bringing, being raped, molestation, or they validating their own self lower then shit. I seemed to dine on that shit, as flies do shit. Now I really found out I was not shit back then and I wish I was actuality raised better. Family might think they did, but if they would have told me why they was grooming me the way they was, I would have thought they was doing it for control issues they were suffering from. Hell I would have noticed the sickness I was going to suffer from and not justify its use and continue as if everything was normal. I have many moral defects that do not only explain my character just because it showed up. I had a woman one time that was like chocolate syrup. She was sweet as anyone woman I encountered. She had my back for over 18 years now. She was there thru out and when she was not she would appear like an angel. I never knew I would find her in time of the disease’s need. I was convinced I had a dummy, because she really did not know what addiction was and the whole 18 years I known her I was an active addict. I think I used her to the point she became immune and never paid attention to my wants, because I always lied about my needs. However, I protected her from people and my addiction as a goalie does a net for his team. I shielded her in the beginning, but then I lost her. Then she returned years later and the disease said trap this bitch or die. I obeyed and used the shit out of her. I used her to the point I caused her to lose a place to live, first it was the lights, because I was not using any of the money for he bills. In the beginning the rent bailey was paid, if she had an over excellent week. Then I would share with the rent man, once I spared a little for food. I had to mask up, because she was not suppose to know she was drugging and was not getting high. I would literally alcohol her down until her mind was out of order like a toilet in a stall. The whole time she was with me, I was not only shielding her from addiction, because I was not sharing and was not going to allow her to come between her check and me. I was sometimes mean to her; because she was not getting drunk quick enough so she would pass out and I could go on the prowl. Sometimes when she was up I just said fuck it, go and when I returned I would hold the bathroom hostage. Then when she looks, I was blowing her back out, because coke was like Spanish fly and it made me super horny. I lost her to the act of addiction anyway, but she got her moment of clarity and ran with it. I found out when I lost control the lost fed her to the wolves. She admitted to me years ago she was getting high. She reached out and I immediately got some type of hold on her or lease I thought, but her having a child recently and remembering how upset I was made her realize she was not cut out for that life. How she got consume with the drugs was I told her one day she alto meet someone else, who could take care of her. Shit, I did, but this was not for getting high anymore. I thought I was doing something by hooking up with someone I knew just as long as her and had to chance to get with her. In addition, I knew or thought the only way I could get with her, if I cleaned up my act. That was all wrong I was going to get clean just to get some pussy so I told shorty, she had break. Hell everything was falling apart anyway so I justified I was saving her from the downfall, which was only me not trying to harm her anymore. Moreover, I just knew life was going to be different, because one time before when I got clean I had done it with help of a woman, who sponsored me and 13th stepped me at the same time. In addition, that asshole was tight as catcher mitten. Don’t ask me what happen after that then and again you know what happen I kept building up my points to earn this sit in the rooms. Until this day shorty never knew why I left her, but always knew it was my doing her wrong and she did nothing wrong. I am glad I told her and explained exactly all the details and she was not shock by what she finally learned. Not to mention the whole time all the players and evidence was right in front of her face. I had to make amends with her and I have not yet gotten to my step work, but it was time to put some closure to something that haunted her for eight year and worst her personal relationship with herself as well. Happily, she is fine now, with a new lease on life with some motivation in her life. I just hope the disease down creep in her life and make her feel it is not worth it. I am glad I was able to share my experiences, strengths, and hopes with her, because I really served her a plate of shit years ago. In addition, she is like all the victims; I knew she did not volunteer for my deception. She had no choice and I took advantage of that, I took advantage of actually being in love with me. I really hate myself sometimes, but I also have to forgive myself and know that God has already. I just hope a lot of those I walked on will forgive me as well. I know they will never forget, I sure did not or else no one would be reading this. Just for any day, I am blessed to see I will rearrange my compulsive obsessed insane thinking, so I do not include more victims. I can still harm people even though I am not using, because I will never be cured. I can better myself by arresting this disease. If I me able to see another Christmas, I would not care if I do not see a present under the tree with my name on it. I already have my presents: I got a rewarding, relationship with the God of my understanding. I am clean. I am learning how to still surrender and I am holding my serene hostage. I got uncanny knowledge that is ever so increasing. My fellowship includes a sponsor and spondee brothers. I have home groups that I can enjoy my serenity in. I could not think of how to accept this before. I would have changed this as fast as it took to gain these 90 days ago. Just imagine my journey started on June 26 and I am just getting 90 days November 9th. Tell yourself God is good, because I had been saying it all the time.

89 what more could I say? I got a lot to say, keep coming back for starters. Come on 90 days and many more. Each day is like Christmas to me, I get to see a new presents under my tree of life. I learned today just before I had a topic to write about, I was to forgive myself. Immediately that clicked in my mind that is the topic of my today’s blog. God, I want to say, I forgive myself for all my harms including to myself most of all, the tragedies are immeasurable and the times I justified when I made people volunteer and face them. My stupidity is inexcusable. Those character defects I won’t have a to chance to address until I tackle my four step and I going to take my time with that step, so I don’t let the disease scare me. I was guilty of mad choices, but I now know I must forgive myself for them also. I ready don’t feel I should forgive myself for my erotic behaviors, but then why shouldn’t I? I have to admit I was only hiding behind my lust. I became the scared little boy trapped in a growned up man. I forgive myself for those victims I thought volunteered for my lust, degrading, and sinful desires and thoughts. I might as well include my compulsiveness especially with the people I included to help me and themselves remain obsessed with our helplessly addicted dramatic, ways and means to get as many more, regardless of others peace and safety. I could list a bunch more of liabilities and never finish in order to thank god for my assets. I want to thank god for my mind to understand I am not in control and can’t control anything with out his permission. I want to thank him for loving me and accepting my prayers for change. I am happy I was able to keep asking for his help and accepted it promptly. I never want to fall down and feel I won’t get up. I am in positions to better myself without the use of a drink, drug, or person, still captured by the lifestyle. I don’t even care to be entertained by those who are clean but don’t practice spiritual principals, although they did their steps. I don’t want to be figured to be qualified for their drama socially accepted egotistical views. I won’t be mad if they kept their suggestions to suggestive points not orders. Don’t try to sponsor me from your seat in the rooms, over the phone unless you are my sponsor, or during our conversations b/4 or after the meetings. More times those that figure they got a handle on life, not their own life. they do their damnest to tell me what they feel about me and my growth, which is never likely positive, what I’m not and suppose to be doing, because they haven’t yet or they haven’t unscrewed the information they manipulated to suit themselves, to notice it applies to them also. I can tell those that hide behind the literature got more to hide and they still don’t recognize how noticeable to a newcomer. I don’t have to see shit, if I can smell it, to know it is near by and look down so I don’t step in it. Some of these characters tried so unsuccessfully to manipulate me with their understanding of the literature and hope I denial finding out my own understanding of God and the Literature. Same clowns and I am not talking about myself, but what I witnessed, they always fiending for validation. They mind as well hang up the mask, because I noticed they guilty of manipulating others for attention. Attention is the only reward they could be looking for this is a non profit organization. I feel proud of the fact that I don’t have to be taught to identify character defect on site. This help me recognize certain shit people do don’t have nothing to do with sanity. They should felt stupid for not recognizing one mask is too many so why do you want a 1000? I am the man that walked into the rooms and I knew more likely I wasn’t going to change on my own, but with the information provided, I learned about change 1st. what to change came naturally, me and my sick ass ways, because I’m dangerously compulsive with my obsession due to my self centeredness. How I know I am changing is still my learning process. I am not going to state I am perfect in an imperfect world. I am though perfecting using my abilities before action to acknowledge my wrongs, admit it to God and another human being, especially one(s) I have executed with my faults, character defects, and obsessive compulsive behavior. I am not going to state I know everything, because every day I learn. Every minute I am on guard so I know when and in hopes I know how to apply my betterment attitude to other. I am the seen for my attraction not my promotion, because I don’t want to be secretly condemn for my promotion. I don’t want some to feel the mask I took off was just to manipulate them still and now hide behind the program. Meaning, I tell someone what I am doing, but my actions don’t equal my words. In actuality I still have on the mask and all I did was use the program to people to let their guard down. I go through that shit with people that boost about their clean time hoping I would volunteer myself to confiding to them for their information about staying clean. I figured out this much of the program, pray, go to meetings, don’t pick, get a sponsor, and do the step work, comes first. Now what part of that I use to stay clean and serene, that what the hell I need to confide in them about what they did. They are response for their recovery, not mine. I want to display a significant amount of joy, peace, and strong qualities that show I have forgave me. Not using one day at a time shows I am grateful to God and myself.

87 and soon there will be 90 A lot of things can change in a period of time when you allow your soul to be serene. I sometimes can’t do that until I figure out where to hide. One place I can’t hide is in my house, unless everyone is gone seeking someone else to exercise they attention seeking with. Although, they are seeking mine, it gets in the way of quality time. I am one of them people that could get along with dead. They don’t fuck with you, even if you fuck with them. They always hear you. You don’t have to worry about are they there. It isn’t like you know you they not alive. Hell when you want to just be listened to they the best listeners. You don’t have to worry about someone trying to make you feel awkward or stupid for having feelings and emotions. Everyone wants to feel what they is saying is heard and valid at some point and time, since all the time is impossible. You might not see who is there, but you know their soul is there and more importantly God is there, where is he not? Find it hard to understand how everyone claim they know what you feel, how you feel, and what you need to feel like. If I thought like they wanted, I would be sitting on their lap, with their hand in my back. Shit I get to the point I remain quiet, because then I could have the best feeling in the world work wonders on me and show me how I am growing. Because while life is existing and I am present I’m able to analyze who I am with and without the company around me. The disease work thru people and although they don’t understand how desperately it wants my company I know better then to wallop looking for different results or feeling things are going to change just, because I have change. I am still the same tall, black, with the same facial appearances with a couple of differences. The differences are manifest thru my actions of changed behavior. My thoughts to accomplish shit are my foundation I am building. My mind is the pyramid I am reconstructing to withstand bullshit of all kinds. The tools I am using is what God supplied, It always been there, a 12 step program. There is where a lot of craftspersons are with even more sound methods and equipment for me to use. They been where I been they are my guides to helping me better myself at whatever I dreamed I could or should do, but being and remaining clean must come first. I have to learn not everyone is at or going to be where I am at the present. That is where personality roles have to be analyzed and situate in my life in categories, either I can use them or won’t. I must be acceptable with understanding my environment is not a race track, I am not suppose to run when life on life term sound like starter pistol and I take off. I must understand the disease or devil come with his doctor bag full with instruments to disassemble my life. It’s looking for is my feelings so it can damage my emotions. If my emotions can’t heal my spirit will hide until farther notice, A.C. (All Clear). When I said, not everyone is where I’m at, most times it have nothing to do with knowledge, concepts, or principals. It is a mode that was built and is so hard for some to relinquish the energy it needs to fester. Many of us fear facing the disease’s backlash; so they stay clean, but still grip on to their negative attitudes. They ignore the disease that never stops looking for a way to creep in. I understand I am under siege and I am worster seeked, because now I am coping and learning more about how to exist without a drink or drug. This time around I do not doubt anything about my control over issues. I don’t want to be forced to deal with my unmanageability eventually. I know it isn’t going nowhere because I practiced being unmanageable more then being manageable most of my life. That also includes the company I managed to keep. If I weren’t unmanageable I wouldn’t have hand picked associates that eventually become nameless individuals I can’t stand after a while. The difference today, I can look at how far I came with the little bit I accomplished so far. With the little bit I have been blessed with and the stuff I thought was a test, but in actuality they were preparation tools. God was strengthening me, so I could maintain what I have today and ready myself to build some more tomorrow. I don’t want the reflection of the company that invade my circle to paralyze my efforts to grow. Some people still mix friendship with confusion, drama, ordeals, situations, problems, because it is all they know. They haven’t yet thought to begin the process of change no matter how many days, months, or years. Easy does it my ass, if you think playing possum with me to get in my circle is all right with me, think again. You know when you got a problem when you have to escape just for freedom. Shit if I have to sit down at the end of the day and figure what was the purpose for their company? Very seldom I volunteer to violate my serene by looking for such off brand company. I don’t even like knowing it is coming by way of a phone call. Some people use phones like they locked up and it is their only resource to the outside world. I personally hate phones, because that is probably the only way to sleath mode my world. I hate crowds and I am from New York, so I need to explain just what I mean, because limited thoughts would get confused. Sometimes people can be like having the same pieces to jigsaw puzzle trying to figure out what come next. Anyway I am from a large family like a pack of wolves or pride more like, because it was more women then men. God knew I had to get trained by the best, if I was going to be a man whore. Anyhow, I believe I don’t want to be made to smile, act when I don’t feel like working for an Oscar. I am very shy or private, I’m not masking up. See when people want to know something about me, they team-up and start assuming they could read me from mask I put on to ward of creepy spirits. I don’t always feel crowd approving, I just don’t like to be looked at. Myself tells my esteem they CSI’ing you. They don’t like whom they see. They wondering what else I don’t have by the way I try to stomp with the big dogs wearing hand-these-to me downs (thrift store clothes), wannabe accessories. Shit the only thing that is eye catching is my hands, because of the possible harm I could cause due to my hands packed with rings. That would be the only conversation piece that would welcome, because the rest most times fall into the ugly categories. I don’t find me intriguing nosy ass. Well I know one thing; I don’t try to figure what other people are doing and try to lend them efforts on their affairs, whether business, private matters, or whatever. If I am questioned for my opinion perhaps I might cooperate, but don’t get happy, because whether concertrate on my own shit. I do feel honored someone respect and feel I am noble to share with. One thing they don’t know if I will stretch their business out of shape, trying to play with it like a rubber band. And I refuse to say too much, so you better listen up and hope I say what you want to hear. I really don’t look to stroke not feelings by agreeing with their wrongs or rights. The mask for some turns into a wall. They want to hide and not wonder about shit. To many of us still do what they done while addicted. Prioritize things according to feelings, like what, who, or why we want to fuck with it first. I like being around people that are doing their own thing that don’t require anything from me. It they want to vent or share something with me, I don’t refuse them to become my temporary company. If I don’t like their spirit I don’t want to get trapped like an animal again. In fact they might get a lesson why they shouldn’t be like a virus and have a negative influence on someone day. I like meetings because I know since we are supposed to be a fellowship; we bring a different brand or should, if we are going to change. I wouldn’t want to go somewhere I am uncomfortable or constantly made to feel like an outcast. It is a difference with being in a crowded room and still feeling alone, the same way it is feeling wanted and uncomfortable, it depends on the individual(s), topics, emotions, subject(s) and mostly, if it was free will or force to attend. In the beginning I felt I was going to not like meetings or feel singled out. Instead I was latched on to and I been holding on since. I’m enjoying the ride. I don’t want to fail and not because I am scared, but this the most wonderful time in my life. Talk about enjoying the reality of being clean and about ready to start step work. I feel, this is just I speaking for thy self, but I am living the principals of the 12 steps everyday. I practice to live them is what I should say, because it is not going to be an easy task everyday. That in return make me want to be with a group of people practicing the 12 and 12, (steps and traditions). This gives me more insight on how, what to do, and why I should be willing. I don’t mind being a follower today, because it won’t hurt me, if I’m lead by the spirit. I know now what is right, wrong, and what happens when I try to justify or substitute one of the other. Not too many people want to admit to being a greedy motherfucker. I can, so they still don’t have too. One is too many and 1,000 will never be enough for. Because once I get that one, it is like feeding a gremlin after 12, I get obsessed and my compulsiveness takes control and shows everyone how unmanageable I am. It doesn’t make sense to start something I won’t want to finish. Patience is delicate to me, if I rush and don’t use the require details for smooth sailing; I am liable to capsize, because of my ignorance. I am not going to say I love being broke, but I am met at the levels of my needs. I don’t need anything that later on down the line is going to back me into opposite corner I just came out of looking for a way out in the dark. I been in enough corners in the dark, to know if I just remain still and adjust my sight to the darkness I will find that light switch eventually. I was talking to someone in another state long distance and the question about compulsiveness came up. I stated I don’t know how to do a little bit of nothing. I went on to say I don’t know how to drink a little, If I drink I got to go on till it is all gone or I volunteer to pass out. If I do drugs before the night is out, I will have enough left to get one more. I don’t even know how to fuck for a couple of minutes, I want to fuck for a couple of hours, and I want to do a lot of shit in such time. And I am so greedy I want to keep going with out taking a breather. I even want company to join in. then I feel like I’m losing my fucking mind. I remember when girls played hard to get. I would say just let me get a little bit or just put he head in. As soon as she cracks the seal, I didn’t lie on purpose. I really don’t feel I liked. I just don’t know how to put a little bit anywhere and I might as well try to put my legs and feet in it, because I am going deep. I want it all. I been getting a lot of good support from a lot of people, who don’t even know who they given me treasure worth of knowledge, in my eyes. I need that information too regain my responsibility, because being responsible to me was letting her do or go find her, so she could do it. First of the month, I wish would never come around, because I don’t know nothing about paying no bills with legal money. I very seldom worked a real 40-hour job. Hell the longest I worked and got a pay stub was probably 3 years. Funny thing about it I was on the job hustling and making more money then my check. So that was another influence to make me say FUCK a job. I don’t want to be JUST OVER BROKE (JOB). Today I need glue just to repair the broken pieces, but don’t think I can’t take care of myself. I didn’t say I was homeless (although, don’t have the house in my name. that is the only technicality) or a bum. I can take care of myself, but I would rather someone else down. I was trained, to be taken care of by a woman, her family, my family, and very seldom I relied on self. I relied on whores and their tricks, which knew kick the house and you can kick it in one of my rooms. I always thought I was supposed to be responsible to find someone else willing to share my responsibilities or take them on with their responsibilities. I knew quite a few, times I was eligible also. In order for a woman to want to do it, I had to come with some things also. And I did. I provided a foundation, food, pleasure, and I was great for their self-esteem. I would wrap my words around them like a coat and make them feel welcome, in the beginning of course. When my fingers ran across things I needed to borrow. Just to show my appreciation I would get little things for them too, because I heard from television little things mean a lot See I believe in stealing from the rich and giving to the less fortunate and I would give me and whoever was there, but I came first, since I put in the work of course. I can’t monitor, control, manage, or operate shit today concerning drugs and drama. I am learning what to do with the spare pieces left over from my puzzle. I know they go somewhere I got to keep looking. I got to say I really enjoyed thinking everything was unlimited for my use. I never knew I would be powerless over drugs, alcohol, money, thoughts of sex, or anything I used to block reality. I am addicted and very greedy with my compulsiveness. If I thought I could use successfully, you wouldn’t be reading this.

hi people Addict Name Carlton 66 days old u talk about a glorious time the higher power have been showing me. only i can reap them benefits, but i can however share the experience, hope, and joy. thru what i write and illustrate in my daily routine, i know i am able 2 influnce someone 2 take a look at themselves and change. they might question why he look so different from what i remember? plan and simple, the spirit is stronger and the bond is growing. My faith is no longer experiencing technicial difficulties. My will is no longer mine 2 fuck with or fuck up. I am not a test, but the results of being tried and tested many times and only seeing the same results is no longer in questioned, cuz evidence is the answer, i am good not just passing. if i expect better then what am i doin 2 make it different? well my insane thinking or obession has been slowly been curbed and the hunger i use 2 not monitor is not optional behavioral 2 use. i am growing up and expanding my once stalled knowledge of life. i knew a lot of things that stopped my growth and then posion hurt my time demanically. where could i go, work, or who could i b with drinking and drugging unmanageblly? Nowhere with, somewhere employable, or living comfortable not willing 2 change. i had 2 have a group conscience about my low self esteem and the diease took advantage and damn near ran my mother fuckin mind out my head. then i realize the group was the most powerful tool in my recovery. i am learning no matter how much people talk with all the wrong information about me, don't let them fuck with my day. the hell with the issues of depression they selling. so what they have my face on their front cover, just as long as i don't purchase the issue, FUCK THEM!!!! See the problem was people want 2 invade my circle, but i don't require the methods 2 unlock doors that lead me back 2 where i started no Fuckin where. i refuse 2 b in a chain sexual affair, just cause u think i need 2 b in ur circle of mayhem. Hell i am the Piece of the dream, u can only have when u go 2 sleep. Hell if u going 2 b woke and lure me 2 sleep in ur bed of chaos. Well if i wasn't the person they crave why the fuck would they get so jealous 2 not only assume, but try 2 assassinate my character by communicating destructively about what they had 99.9% of the wrong information. No, I am not sleeping with whom they say i'm sleep with. hell i don't even desire 2 sleep with whom i have at home. Hell,u only c me one hour out of certain days, how can u know me comings and goings. they the one with the recovery curfews, not me. So what give them the right 2 assume i am fuckin with anyone with no evidence. did u bust me between the sheets. just cuz i talk and hang out with someone don't mean sex is in session. Oh is it because i chose 2 chill with pretty women. Hell i hang with not so attractive ones 2, but because who they are, i totally refuse 2 chill, hang, look, or even speak 2 ugly people, no matter how pretty they look, but the make up which is the mask or attitude crushes them like grapes in my eyes. i would rather fuck a dog then 2 fuck with them. I don't like roaches so u know i despise RATS!!! All I ask if u don't know something don't assume, predict, or talk about shit concerning me with positive, cross referenced, or pictures 4 that matter, 2 back up u backward termonology gossip. Hell u can judge, but look at all them fingers pointing right back at u when u point. it should tell urself I am not ur problem, unless because i don't fuck with u then that is the problem. I am not a hard person 2 get a long with. but i am definitely a hard person 2 get with. i can play some head games b/4 i even get head in the game. Hell if I talk 2 fast read slower, so u don't manipulate the presenter's words and get mixed up like a bowl of fruit. Hell b/4 any particular set of women figure me out they might match all the colors on a rubic cube 1st, cuz i am that difficult. i am not suppose 2 b easy. it is 2 easy 2 catch shit and 2 hard 2 get rid of it. Some of them things other then law enforcement agencies, such as FBI, DEA, CIA, ATF is HIV. How many of us know who the hell we sleep with, fuck remembering? How many of u know who the hell they slept with. Go deep think about do they know who they slept with or CARED? If u don't and u don't, it is safe 2 not assume, u should think about shit u do before u ignore ignorance. Life don't have 2 b a death sentence.

Addict name Carlton. I am revising my life for the better. It is about time I retire with the experience I have I won’t miss nothing. I am tired of working for nothing! I got to examine my portfolio. So far what I see is I'm going 2 take my no pension compensation fund less ass down the street (on a all but no expenses paid trip) pass making a quick stop, waiting 4 5 minutes aka 2 hours, till the next package arrives. Today, I am more then satisfied with the re-up informed formation of my new power- the 12 steps. I am no longer an addict, no more denial or refusing to admit I am powerless with and without. I can’t piss on my camp fires expecting different results (like trying to cop drugs in front of the police station). Firemen can told me I would have an easier times putting out forest fires in Cali. Y don’t I just cash in my 401k, is that the same as keno? Oh how can I forget my stocks and bonds or should I? Yeah now I am talking. I can really blow up now with my limit being negative ZERO. Then I got all these mofo’s, who didn’t give a shit about me, wanting something. For once we think alike, you don’t mind shit to me either. I hope they like that beautiful unseen parting gift, NOTHING. Today, I got nothing but options, the man behind the counter at Burger King, told me, “I can have it my way!” I am going 2 march my ass right down 2 the office and get my vacation, sick, and comp time, I didn’t have a chance 2 use. Or put it 2 u like this I wouldn’t admit openly I was sick, but I am. I must be retarded or something, because I showed up for work everyday with my grind tools. My job description state, come prepared, get mine and whoever else’s everyday no matter how hazards it was that day. I always had a way with street back home and running them here in Baltimore I thought was going to be a piece of cake, this is what the disease told me. It always used that slogan “the city that never sleep,” it renamed it when it said it to me, “the Nigga that would never sleep or accept being broke!” The disease with its cunning and flashing way it used its words often schooled me. It said, I, meaning me, ain’t tired. I argued and said, so what I’m broke. The disease pimp slapped me with this, If you get locked up you are nor sleepy, tired, or broke, because as long as someone got what you want you either going to trade, take it, or buy it. I wasn’t down with sleeping with no one for that shit. I am only talking about me, if I kept using or going to jail anything would have been possible. I am only talking about me. Then it continued, if you were in the hospital I will send a nigga to where ever you at, ICU, the emergency room, and even the operating room to get that gate shot money. No place is off limits and if you believe in me, you won’t have to go drugless. When it told me I would never be drugless, that was one of the many lies I saw. After a while the cons, hustles, and rustling came and went. I wasn’t no stranger to what I always knew worked, A BITCH. Not any ordinary bitch. She could get high, but no Dope!!! I wasn’t going to be with no addict nodding around in the trenches. I would geek with one, but I refuse to nod with one. Later that too would change and I found out the hard way about breaking my own rules. When I felt I had burnt down London Bridges my old ways made me rob my graveyard (bitches i left). Soon that bitch I was looking for came in the form of an alcoholic. That was the cheapest high I could find. She didn’t require much and I wasn’t turning her on to my stash, because I thought before God I was doing a good job hiding I was getting high. I swear I thought she was dumb or naïve or something, because she went to work faithfully just to give me her check on Friday, minus a few dollars. Soon I had just stopped visiting the zoo and I started traveling with the circus. I was one of them clowns, I was the evil one, that wasn’t kid friendly, I had no type of human relations and of course I isolated myself from everyone who wasn’t using, kids included. I was comfortable with being choked out by the disease. Talk about being caught. I wasn’t up or down, I was trapped. I had an alcoholic and me being one too, I had the best of both my spiritual sins. Shit I was always claiming I was going to build up myself and climb out this trench. I didn’t know I was so much like every addict that ever got high. Shit I didn’t feel comfortable now, unless I was around another addict, so you know I had my grand opening of the House of Addiction. Better not had listen any one tell you it was a recovery house in 1600 block McCulloh Street in the penthouse. I can admit you wouldn’t have been no volunteer when you knocked on the door, but once you cross that door ceil, hang up. Victims and Volunteers exchanged roles from day to day. Someday was always using my house to relapse and deny they had a reservation, but know they made a reservation with me days or months in advance. I told them the door will be open when you get here, if not just ring the bell. I wasn’t mad at them as much as they was at me for making it easy for them to resume fucking up their life. I told them it take more then 12 steps to climb to this penthouse, so you better think it out carefully. They didn’t and I taxed them like I was Uncle Sam. The disease told me too. They had no choice to pay me good money and most times I was paid just to keep my door open and my mouth SHUT. I felt like I was running a witness protection program hiding recovering addicts from their home groups, just for a lot more in the beginning. To me two addicts of any kind get together they could build back up the towers in days. Little did I know we can also tear it down in moments. The disease seen too it I was greedy. It convinced me the power I had over certain people was building up self obsession of my self centeredness. It ordered me to believe I should be grateful I was using it and had a source available 24-7. I had me a house only few knew about my grand opening and they had to bring something to the table, because Freebie died along with Gimmie. Hell a lot of mother fuckers who fucked with me wished they was Freebie or Gimmie. See when I got that girl, who got me that girl, the world changed from meek to a geek. See coke sent me on suicide missions with weapons. The disease said, I could get away with anything and for years I believed that. I had not care in the universe. I would spend this girl check like I worked for it. Ask me, if I cared? I didn’t even care about bill, who ever the fuck he thought he was. He better bring something to table and I am not talking about them orders, requests, or negotiations papers signed by the judge. Soon my ego got relentless, it was only a shield to hide the fact I was on paranoia alert, I did say to myself secretly, that coke was going to commit me eventually to somebody institution. I am talking about me, but some can relate, because they been there. I was so bad at one point I didn’t go to the mail box for weeks. I had more mail in my tiny box then the mail man had in his bag. I was avoiding the turn off this and that, I want this back, and we on our way to repo our shit type of notes. I was happy the sheriff was taking his sweet time to act on me ignoring their order to discuss my rental status. I wasn’t going to nobody court. That would be like snitching on my disease. I couldn’t tell the judge Cocaine was the reason my rent was not late, I had no intention of paying it. That was my status on the matter. The cable and phone were the only smart asses. They hooked up their shit outside so when ever they wanted to they could confiscate their shit back. They better had because the disease said, “fuck them pay attention to me.” Hell yea, I am retiring with pleasure, no longer will I worry about not getting fired from a fired-proof job, using. I might not rob peter to pay Paul and find out Paul robbed my ass in return, I’m talking about getting burnt and can’t do shit about it. Try running back into a mutha fucker after he burn you. If you do it might be months or years later, I guarantee that. So I know I will have nothing to fear! I am damn sure not going 2 forget where there is no jobs on a corner hollering help wanted. I don’t need a needle point pen or stem to sign away my money. No, I won’t apply no more 4 a pin cushion, hazardous, harmful position with low wages. I am volunteering either for jail or institutions research programs. I like using the keys to my house, it is way more better then some out of shape gorilla looking C.O with longer esteem then you, or she wouldn’t be working there. No degree required to be a turn key. Just for day I am enjoying and using it every day to realize, I don’t need no fuckin no experience necessary to get sum experience job the disease is interviewing for. I got the experience now and I don’t never want forget. That just keeps me from resubmitting my application.

Hi An Addict Name CARLTON I am at it again, still an addict, just not addicted 2 the substance today, but I still carry the disease which many of us do, but don’t even have clue what it is that fucked with us and demand we use even when we don’t want 2. I myself learned how 2 deal with it, pray, go 2 meetings and don’t pick up. Plus, I stop hanging with them mutha fuckas, who English and comprehension haven’t yet caught up with grade schoolers. Cuz, if them bitches can’t understand what the fuck I’m sayin when I say no, I don’t want 2 violate one of the principals or traditions and bang them in the mouth and go 2 jail in recovery, so avoid them bitches. Stop eatin where u shit, it is unhealthy no matter how much u doctorer it up. My drama started back when I was just coming into the existence with high school. I was runnin with a mad house of gangstas, not like no Al Capone or Scarface, but some real gangbangin mutha fuckas, I should know they tried 2 kill me eventually and I was one of the lieutenants. Anyway I took part in the muscles side of the business, which lead 2 some serious court drama, it wasn’t no Mathis, Brown, and Penny, I wish. Now I got an addicts behavior and I wasn’t even using nothing at the time, just the pour thought of the power a drug gang provided got me high. Anyway the judge handed me seven years 4 extortion, conspiracy 4 some of this, that, and most 4 being me. I was considered a menace 2 society and advise after I get my GED, I should just vacate the city, Yes, I was THROWN the Fuck Out of New York FUCKIN CITY. After I didn’t comply with some of the details of my charges, so I wouldn’t do that time on the island, I packed up and jetted 2 B-MORE CAREFUL. I should have been cuz, that is where I decided 2 write my drug epic starring Carlton aka Sharief , The Suit, Terminator, Hustla, Big Unc, finally betta known as Crack Head. The worst thing about Baltimore, I didn’t fly over it or drive around it. My fault, cuz down there they had the handbook and requirements on how 2 b an addict just waiting 4 my arrival. When I started takin shit, it was Cocaine, why because it was all I knew, I watched my family get destroyed by this mother fucker. Shit Shirley was vicious and I married her ass in a hurry. I divorced her, cause she was startin 2 fuck with me, she tried 2 kill me, or I should say I OD-ed. I thought I was sleep, well when I woke up I knew the dream was actually death. I proceed 2 keep tryin 2 unsuccessful kill myself 4 many more years with her. Then she got 2 the point she was borin me. I thought I could fuck with weed, but only 2 find out I was only makin another reservation 2 go fuck with the coke again. This time I was still married 2 this bitch, divorce shit, that bitch new I would kill myself cuz I wouldn’t let her go. I was really caught up like this fuckin drug was a whore or one of my bitches. The role really was reserve. She told me I better not fuck around on her or the results would b wrost and they were. I started fuckin around with here sister, CRACK. Once I pulled that BITCH, draws down and sucked on that pussy, she, who I blame, started getting me locked up, losing shit, I had accumulate because remember I was sellin drugs all my life in Baltimore, even when I had a job, with the two stash apartments and house 4 a front. Cars I never even fuckin drove, I am 40 with no license, but kept a fuckin car. I drove more cars on video games. I was certified with a lot of skills and business, but I couldn’t stop mindin my Cracked up, Insane, Self Centered, Close Minded self, cuz I might miss my opportunity 2 get high. Me and Crack was like shit and flour, if it was white, rocky and could smoke up I wanted that shit up in my ass. I would geek until I had 2 laugh at myself. I really was laughin because the dumd shit I did with the coke was nothing compared 2 what I was doin with the crack. I was out of control and no one who did this shit could deny they wasn’t down on the floor, in the closet, in the middle of day, sun out, and of all things u got a mutha fuckin a flash light like the cops looking 4 nothing. Cuz 10 times of 10 where I was lookin I wasn’t even over there. Now that is some insane funny fucked up shit. I learned quick how 2 deal with this monster after 7 years of usin or practicing because as quick as that high last, I might as well not. I guess I was more intrigue with the getting and the results of how much or longer I could geek, how ridiculous I could look. I can honestly stay that shit will 2 rob u and have u from runnin crack house (which is a place where people gather 2 smoke crack, it could an vacant house or mansion, but sooner or later u might have 2 move into them. Bills go from being paid 2 people name bill who just want 2 have some place 2 get high. Those I sold that poison 2 I assumed I or I said, I would b like them. Little did I know would b in a 12 step program telling u my story. Everybody get a turn, just wait ur turn. I have more stories then the bible cuz I choose 2 live like this. There is help out there, just start with admittin u r an addict and open ur mind along with ur mouth when u ask 4 this help. This is just brief of what is comin the 12 step website I am constructin.

Hi my name is Carlton, an blessed and thankful 4 a second chance addict It was suggested that I tell my story. This is 2 better not only the relationship with u the reader, but myself. See it I always hold things in or lie just 2 hide behind my past, which has caused me 2 put on a mask so people won’t look down on me 4 who I was. If I don’t constantly think of where I came from it is a 1,000% I will only resurrect them demons I fought 2 bury. I am first an addict and second I must identified how it progress, what gave it fuel or what I believe matured into something unmanageable, mostly how I felt by some of the deceitful choices and deeds I keep in my grips and what I did 2 change this shit. O what I thought would b easy certainly wasn’t, quitting using anything that result in me not being who I told everyone I was CARLTON. I was handed the tools of addiction pretty early in life, from what I could just about gather, when I heard family speaking of me and mother for starters. I grew up in a couple of different households up 2 the age of 6 or 7. But I do remember the brief moment I shared with my mother. I still 2 this day don’t remember if I was happy or scared 2 b with my mother. Now that I look back at the situation I reckon confused. Me and mother lived in a tenantment in NYC. Now from what I gather I was a happy go lucky child. Don’t believe lucky was a choice, if It wasn’t 4 God, I probably would confuse luck and bless. I say lucky, because not 2 many people can feel blessed 2 have a mother with an alcohol problem, not 2 mention which most times was used just 2 justify her unbalance behavior and unpopular choices she constantly made. One thing 4 sure 2 things 4 certain, I knew she loved me in her own way, it just took 2 me decades 2 realize what unconditionally, really meant. Due to alcoholism I really felt I was robbed of my toddler years, because I was used as a pawn and an escape goat by my family. I wasn’t deprived as much as I was told of. Let me explain, when I began 2 walk I wasn’t just into everything because I was unmanageable, I was really learning much early, it was me 2 the bitter end as a child. I had 2 find food which normally resulted in cold raw hot dogs. I really thought my name was Oscar Myers, water was plentiful and remember I wasn’t tall enough 2 get it from the sink. Yes, survival tactics kicked in. I soon learn as long as u see clear with unfloatin colorful objects, unknown 2 me at the time what they was, told me toilet was ur only option. I could remember losing my shoes in cabs, looking 4 some sort of attention, not really realize that lead the wrong results (belts, ironing cords, extension cords, sometimes I would b bless if the iron wasn’t hot or something wasn’t still attached 2 the other end of the cord. O did I mention I mostly got that type of love when she assumed I wasted her liquor or threw it away. Never did it cross her mind, I might have drank it because I thought it was just toilet water bottled now. I was tried of waiting 4 the brown stuff 2 go down after the toilet might have been stopped up 4 a couple of days. Now I don’t remember what the results was after I drank the liquor, but as much as I was getting my ass kicked, I assume I had 2 enjoy it. As time inched on, I think I really showed my love or I definitely don’t know what the hell I was doing, but I saved my mother’s life. This particular day was the normal, mom out like a light, smoking in bed, something I think is very mindful of. Anyway the bed or something sparked, but any way God must live in that house also. Because as hot as the hell is said 2 b, my mother’s bed had 2 be hotter, but my mother never moved until my heroics kicked in. as little as I was I was able 2 bed the coma like spell my mother fell into after drinking 5ths, either with herself or 2 5th’s with her friends. The more I banged I must had caught her In between one them snoozes, cause she woke, but not before the bed room burned up and her back had some type of third degree burns. One thing I had 2 do that I didn’t know would progress I would soon become an alcohol first. Mind now I am not able cop 4 myself, so I had 2 wait until a cup was left unattended on the floor, in the liquor or beer bottle in the refrigerator. I was grooming myself and not only by my own admission, but my aunts call themselves leaving me some in a small cup. They had a not a clue I might have already stole my shared and they blaming each other or people who wasn’t even there. About then I wasn’t allowed 2 go out unless it was with a family member. At least if I was surrounded by addiction from the moment my eyes was open I was surrounded by drugs and alcohol. Is alcohol a gate way drug, if it is not then it must b the gate keeper. I wish it had turn me away, but since we only discriminate and claim 2 use and choose, then I guess I definitely had this life on reserve. Same way 4 my recovery, cause I jump on it when I felt it slipping way. Now I not as much time as I feel I have, cause everyday clean and sober feel like a year. The older I got the more control I fooled myself into believing I had. I was who I was fooling. I learned how 2 work or be functional under the assumption, since I couldn’t operate successfully doing piles of coke. I thought alcohol was my buddy. I got my backbone 2 challenge things and CERTAIN people that I wouldn’t out of the ordinary. Then alcohol mixed with other drugs, especially No Doz. Plan and simple when I crashed I would have preferred it been in my house. I said, I wished, because I would make a patio on the street, bus, and at people house or their porch until they threw me out. real shit can't be hidden like underwear under clothes. When the drugs got more in demand, I was looking 4 the strongest beer after I was smoking because I had 2 land the launched rocket some how. But when I brought ready and weed, if it wasn’t enough money 4 beer that was my most miserable moment. I must share I hated sharing my alcohol. It was like my goal 2 get drunk and I needed every drop. I would even let the beer sit out over night and resume morning just 2 get my wake up shot.

80 for 80 Addict name Carlton. 80 for 80 mean 80 days clean and serene. 80 days in a row I thank God for obtaining. At this point in my life I am able to see how many people really didn’t trust me or my word. When i was using my word was the only thing I had left, I was trying to keep that neat. The worst part of sticking to my word was when money was owed out. Back in the day, if I said I would pay a person back, it normally was the local dealer. An ordinary person might have gotten ducked out, but TODAY, I comply with my promises. Sometimes I don’t want to, but I’m held more accountable. People think since I’m not chasing, I’m not going to turn up missing, if I am about what I say I am. Some of my associates might look at the less money I have in pocket the lesser I should to be tempted. When I owe them they are on my heels, my door steps waiting, or be my shadow on pay day. I have to smile, because most of them characters, I won’t mention no names, but I see they haven’t got over or addressed their own money issues. I know when a nigga ain’t use to have nothing they get money hungry, busy adding up the money u owe them before I even get it myself. I guess using or practicing trained me to live with nothing, especially money. Now days I might not have money, but I learned how to be happy. I can suffer from empty pockets as long as my stomach is not empty I am alright. But what I am saying is I run into individuals that believe just because I have a dollar I am doing great. I don’t even get mad at them, but I pay attention to them. Their behavior may seem harmless, but how do I know they don’t have other motive? I keep that picture up front to keep me on my toes, yes; just because they clean some still have addicted behavior traits. Today, I not only say no to drugs, people are included on that short list also. I had to identify who is an addict and what made me an addict, compulsive and obsessive thinking. Hell, if I am going to do the same things looking for different results. Just for today that area of my life is slowing being arrested. And no I am not talking about myself doing the asking, I’m talking about not volunteering to be a victim. Now I pay attention to those usual Suspects. I must stop trying to make up for some shit I am not responsible for now, I am an addict not addicted. I had to realize, if I offer anything without being asked, I am going to be held to it. I aware of what part I play in the process, so I must learn to stop opening my mouth and let my tongue do it’s own will. I really hate women. Hate is a strong word, but I really hate them for who they fail to realize they are and where they came from. Stop acting like you living dirty. They sometimes forget they got principles in life even if they haven’t done their step work yet. Here is the hit, stop using the “easy does it” cliché, it look like you make it an excuse. If you call yourself moving out the way and letting God, then like the serenity pray say know the difference. And I am not talking about myself, but those who claim this and that and I have to be their venting machine processor, not answering a machine. I said to myself I can hear, listen, and it doesn’t require me to answer questions not asked. When I answer questions not asked, it might not seem like a suggestion. The disease tells people they orders. I have control issues and I can’t even control the shit going on in my head, I should be mindful of what I say. People, like me fear being controlled by an addict. It don’t even have to be an addict, it could be anyone. Let me keep it real, I’m talking me, Carlton. If I say something it is going to get twisted like a Rubik’s cube and immediately I’m trying to control something. Who he think he is didn’t he get high like me, didn’t he do some foolish shit, don’t he know he exposed and constantly is exposing him? I don’t need to talk about myself; I got too many people doing it for me. My character been assassinated, I am stubborn I won’t bury it yet. When God says I’m the first piece of shit he made name Carlton, then I might feel unworthy. I know how to hold my head high and laugh at what a mother fucker say. I will be damn, if I will allow that mother fucker to see me crying about what they said that fucks with me. If It didn’t I wouldn’t be writing this shit. I am talking about me, because my feelings can be shredded. Thank God for recovery tools. I learned, eat that shit up and grow from it. I have to admit, when I know I’m the center of that bitch ass ying yang, I really feel they are praising me, because of the recovery program and who I let in my circle. Getting mad at someone with that backward ass wrong shit they reporting can’t stop my recovery. Since they paying so much attention to me in the meeting, do they understand how much control the disease still have on their dumb asses? It is oblivious they not worrying about their own recovery. Don’t thank me for relapse. I will do my best to be there upon returning when they get their ass kicked out on them streets again! I was told relapse don’t have to be apart of your story. I know one of the tools I use to not become a victim is stay out of people business for 6 months and stay minding mine for the other 6. And I can’t forget pray, go to meetings, don’t pick, I got my home groups, along with an excellent sponsor and soon I will be guided thru my step work. Don’t think I am just hanging around to stay clean. I’m addict to my recovery. I use to hate the hell out them motherfuckers and try to avoid them, but what the hell am I running for? Then I tried to relay messages on the slide, hoping to flush them out their hole like a rat, because I want to burn them up like crack in a pipe. I don’t really want to act out like a child. I know and today I am suppose to be a model ex-activated addict learning about recovery. I am not afraid to talk about me; I still got some old feelings I have to put away, because they don’t fit into my processing of mature recovery. The basic text says “I can’t change over night so easy does it”. Just for today the things I noticed and been told is not acceptable behavior I examine constantly. I’m look at ways to avoid that erratic behavior. I wasted too much time with my life already. I don’t want to dwell on mutha fucka’s with their secret resentments against me. Then the disease said, yeah it talks to me everyday, “You look good. They want you.” Sometimes I can’t get all the credit to my insane defect, because they painted this pretty picture for me to stare at. The disease steady boosting up my confidence, hoping I eat what it is serving, so I can make a fool of myself. “They pissed off they didn’t catch you before you stopped using.” My disease knows I would have twisted their door knob 80 some days ago. All of a sudden the recovering side yelled out, “They don’t deserve a turn now, so keep it moving. Let them keep spreading their hate around like business cards. Be happy your face is on their mind and not between their legs.” Now a days I have to watch where I strip down and who I give a turn to, because niggas and bitches are trying to send a nigga like me, a certified male whore (only for the women), back to school to re-learn some of their alphabet HIV.