Stop My Mind...I Want To Get Off!

This is a chapter from Soul Parole: Making Peace with My Mind, GOD and Myself. It will be available at soulparole.com, AMAZON and on Kindle. Proceeds from the book will benefit Chicago Area addiction, mental health facilities and homeless shelters.

I have spoken openly about being Bi-Polar. Because of my condition, I can never turn my mind. Through therapy I have learned to slow it down. My thoughts only run at 100 miles per hour, instead of 500. My thoughts have no punctuation. The chapter takes place over 2 minutes.

This is a chapter about the night before I was to attend the funeral for a dear friend. If you need help with depression, reach out. You are not alone....

My Thoughts Are Racing And I Can't Catch Up To Them

You are about to enter my mind! If you are prone to motion sickness you might want to reconsider before boarding...

I've fallen asleep on the couch reading a book by Uta Hagen. I am just on the edge of consciousness because I rarely get "deep sleep," and when I do sleep I’m easily woken. The sound of a mouse fart will sit me up straight, wide eyed, and mind racing. Since the passing of my sweet friend Debbie on Christmas, my racing mind is kicking up the RPM's. There is no punctuation in my mind. There will be little here.

I shake from my delicate slumber as my lab is nudging my arm. He needs to go out. What time is it? Only 1:05? I'm not getting up until four! Damn dog!  "LA Woman, LA Woman!" You know he only wakes you when he really has to go! "LA Woman, LA Woman." She was only forty-three! Come on, guys, let’s go out! Why her? Make it quick boys! Come on! "Grace, stay out of the deep snow! They better not wake up my Squeaky. She's getting up in three hours. "Ridin, Ridin...." Hurry up, Grace! I wonder if she was in pain? Don't forget their treats. Am I afraid to die? "LA Woman, LA Woman." Grace needs a grooming. Quiet! Quiet! "I did a little dot about an hour ago..." What should I wear to the service? What should I wear when I've died? I wonder if a lot of people will come to my funeral? She was only forty-three! I'm forty-five! SHHHH, you guys go back to bed. "Ridin, Ridin...Ridin, Ridin.” I wonder if death hurts? I have to mail out submissions tomorrow. Grace, you have snow all over you! Cooter, you're a good girl! What was that feeling in my chest just now? A heart attack! I'm gonna die right here in the kitchen! "Which way the wind blows," Lord, don't let me die here! Not now! Grandpa was thirty-nine when he died of a grabber. I look just like him. Maybe I'll just wear a sweater and Dockers! "La Woman, LA Woman..." Check your pulse. Just put two fingers up to the side of your throat! No more treats! You guys are done for the night. God, I love you! "Ridin, Ridin..." I have got to get more sleep! My pulse seems normal! Wait, was that an irregular heartbeat? Man, I hate this cold weather! She was so cool. I think I'll be cremated. Those submissions should be sent to the agents by certified mail! "Ridin, Ridin." What if the kids die before me? If I do die, Lord, let it be quick! Squeaky is gonna be a mess! How will she get through it? The service starts at three o’clock. I will leave the house at two forty-five. "Well I did a little dot about an hour ago." I still have a couple hours to sleep. I better put an aspirin on the coffee table in case I do have a heart attack! Aspirin is supposed to help. I remember when we went to the banquet with her! "Ridin, Ridin...” I love her and miss her. I wonder if people will miss me? A sweater is cool! I need to pay my respects, not interview for a job! "Woooooooh." Now I think my heart is beating too slow! Check your neck again! "LA Woman, LA Woman. It's only 1:08. Go lay down guys. Grace, you are looking pudgy! I should put you guys on a diet! Maybe it's just her long hair? I think I'll be cremated in my Lennon shirt. No the Dylan! If I have a heart attack now, will I still be alive when my wife wakes? I'm going to take the aspirin now just in case. I gotta get up in a couple hours! "LA Woman, LA Woman..." It's still 1:08!

Doors Open...Windows Close...Sometimes on My Fingers!

In addiction recovery the focus is to live your life in the moment from day to day. Yesterdays' are filled with loss and regret. Tomorrows littered with uncertainty and anxiety. When I first got sober I thought it was a silly concept. Now I find it perfectly delightful. Whether you're an addict or an earthling you really don't know when the great lotto ball caller is gonna pick your number. Staying in the now makes me enjoy the simplicity of existence, the beauty of just being a part of the landscape, something I savor.

My life is just like those Gobstoppers. When I am grateful for the blessings that come my way and realize how truly good I have it, I've got it made. It's when I analyze and try to control that the world becomes purple, yellow and red, distorted by my forcing myself upon the universe and what I WANT that things get crazy and I get crazy along with them. God made such a beautiful world and saved me a million times from destroying myself but every once in a while I seem to feel the need to jump up and try to adjust the picture for Him. He opens doors and closes windows. I sometimes leave my fingers in the sill when the pane comes crashing down. That's His way of reminding me that He's doing just fine without me.

I auditioned for a movie last week called "Altered." It is a horror/thriller and I was up for a role as a cop. Most of you know that I have a look about me that is, let's say "not nurturing." What the hell! I look like I'm pissed off a lot. That comes from 28 years of addiction, living in the street and running with some rough crowds. It is what it is. As a result I get cast as bad guys, mafia types, angry guys, etc. I don't know why that bothers me. Jack Palance, Robert Englund and Vincent Price did pretty well at being dark figures. In my recovery, just a part of me wants to be the good guy, the hero, the one everybody is happy to see.

Well, the audition went horribly! I tried to act like the character instead of me being the character. That is how I have had success in the past. Let's face it. I was an addict and alcoholic for 28 dark years. Who am I going to portray more accurately? Richie Cunningham or Otis the Drunk? Facts are facts. I did get to work with Kely McClung from Vampire Diaries and Blood Ties. His direction was good. My acting was bad. Barney Rubble could do Hamlet compared to me that day. Oh well!

Wait, it gets worse! I emailed Imoto Harney, the producer and assistant director, to say I could come back in and audition for the junkie, homeless guy and street freak that were being cast in the film. Yep! I went back to the old comfort zone. I was taking that Gobstopper out and by golly I was gonna find a way into that movie! Well, they never called back. Imagine that. I made a fool of myself, something I am quite good at both personally and professionally.

I was heartbroken and in mourning over the loss of a friend. I was going to make life happen. His had been cut so short. Saturday I got a call from a casting director in California checking my availability for filming a week out there for a series. That week falls in the same time frame as the film I tried to force my way into. The California show also has a great message and I will get to help people with my message. God does my casting.

On top of that I met a new friend, Darren Marlar, a Christian comic who went for the same role as me and killed it! Funny how things go. I hope he gets the part. He can bring a positive message to a whole new demographic. Look him up on Facebook or Google his name. He is a fine man.

I am an alpha personality. I know you didn't have any idea of that, but I am. Most of the time it is great! That is when I am doing things the right way for the right reasons and with pure motives. When I get out there and try to "MAKE IT HAPPEN!" I get the windows of life slammed on my fingers. It will happen again. I learn from pain more than pleasure. I will continue to try too hard and fail occasionally when I over Tomify things. I heard a preacher say "You can fail miserably with God or succeed more miserably without him." I understand that now and agree completely.

I am who I am - Popeye 1:3. That's just the way it is. I am grateful to be a part of the business of film and TV. I actually had an agent contact me from England. I hope it's not for day work! What a drive! As long as I am growing I'm doing fine. As long as I see my mistakes and fallibilities I'm fine...when the day comes that I think I'm fine.

I'm a Bozo Hater with Bats in My Belfry!

The fact that I had to put our yellow lab "Cooter" down Tuesday, 8 months after I put down our Pug Ruby, has devastated me and our family. Being the guy who takes our beloved pets on their last car trip is an unenviable task I dread. I love God's creatures. Most of them, that is. When talking about facing fears great or small, should I or shouldn't I, and what defines great and small?

I have mentioned in other chapters about my fears of clowns, dentists and bats. My ultimate fear is going to the dentist only to find him dressed in a bat costume with a rubber nose and rubber shoes. Those are real phobias. I use comedy to deflect real feelings of discomfort. Taking them one by one, I never took my kids to the circus. Remember that chapter? I still have no guilt! That phobia is easily managed. No circus, no problem. The dentist has a note in my file about my phobia and I get gas, even for a cleaning. Problem solved. That brings us to the bats.

Everyone knows of my love for rescuing animals! I like animals better than people for the most part. I know, not very Christianly. Giving it to you straight has been my thing, why change now? I know others who fear the dentist and clowns. Being a comedian all 3 phobias can be material for me. Animals are God's nonspeaking buffers between humanity that bring us happy. That is except for bats. I find these creatures to be the most vile creation in God's animal playbook. I know he was very busy during those days of creation. It is a part bird, part rat-like thing, part blood or bug sucking thing, it is blind and only comes out in the dark to prey on the unsuspecting.

I don't get it! Birds are beautiful! I adore hawks and birds of prey! I think bats are actually what people see when they encounter the chupacabra! Why is a bat turd called guano? That sounds like something I want to dip a tortilla chip into! Why do bat turds get such a prestigious name for a dump? Cows have pies, okay. Horses have apples, okay. If you've been on a farm those are pretty good visual descriptions of what they leave behind. Guano sounds like the latest hot spot martini bar on Rush and Division. Why does such a filthy, deplorable, rabid beast get a designer turd moniker? Stop the madness!

Growing up in Mokena and around Joliet we saw bats. I was horrified by them. The way they flew erratically, possibly carrying rabies, lice or bubonic plague or a chunk of cow hair they took off poor Elsie in the field next door was paralyzing. The articles I still read in the papers freak me out. "2 rabid bats found in Joliet Forest Preserve." Plainfield bat tests confirm rabies!" I know it seems silly, but is my phobia silly?

You may say "Tom you made it through 20 years of addiction, alcoholism depression, anxiety, panic and homelessness. Why are you worried about the bat phobia? The roaches didn't bother you that much." The answer is multi-layered. We all have fears and inner conflicts. My addictions and depression were massive obstacles that had to be faced. The clown and dentist phobias had solutions I created to get around or deal with them

We all have fears, phobias and things that freak us out which we don't talk about for personal or societal reasons. I had a bat experience that terrified me as a kid. It involved me, my sister, my mom and my stepfather. I remember it like yesterday. I can tell you details including weather. I called them both this morning. My sister vaguely remembers the incident, my mom not at all. I think I remember it because the incident was between me and my stepfather and this bat that I dreaded going near. If I didn't I felt I would be a sissy. To fear bats in general is feminine, not that there is anything wrong with a man being in touch with his feminine side.

I have let these little flying varmints freak me out since I had the ability to remember things. I have stories about Mammoth Cave Kentucky and the exhibit at Brookfield Zoo that almost killed me with a panic attack because bats fly free in the enclosure. Note to self: Read zoo instructions before entering.

I don't talk about this fear with people because I feel it's stupid but it genuinely effects me if there is a bat situation occurring. Do you have a silly fear that maybe isn't so silly? I have only taken my kids to the zoo once. We have never been to a circus and never to the forest preserve (particularly after dark) all because of this bat thing. It kills me because I love animals so much and I let this one bastard flyin' rat prevent me from showing my kids 100's of other species I adore.

I can face an inferno, but I am terrified by a match. Laugh. I make jokes. I have never turned to my friend Patrick and said "Bats scare the shit out of me." Dudes don't do that. He would probably push me out of the car. No, really. If you knew Patrick, he really would push me out of the car.

I submitted to an ad to appear on a program that deals with fear of animals. I did it on a whim, half joking, half secretly crying out for help for this insane phobia. They called me and are interested in my fear of bats. Now I have to decide if I want to apply or not and tell the world I don't like bats. God sure has a sense of humor. God bless us all. If you're looking for something to do tonight, head on out to Guano. They have a live band Billy Bozo and the drillers.

I Was In a Funk.. But Sly and the Family Stone Never Showed!

It's been a few days since my last blog. Facebook didn't let me post it for some reason. It was probably the fact that I mentioned China and Turkey and love in the same blog. It obviously got picked up by Big Brother and checked out. Sorry but I'm a child of the Sixties. I was in fact a child in the 60's and some of my views mirror those times. I think the 70's get a bad rap too. At least until 1975. We had some great music in the 70's that gets overlooked by disco and bad clothes.

I have been going through a down time the last few days. No work. Family pressure abounds. I also suffer from depression but those days come and I know they'll pass. The worst thing I do when I'm in a funk is to isolate. Being alone can be a pretty scary place for me. When I am stuck listening to me all day it's like I'm stuck with a comedian and drama queen. Oh wait! I am a comedian and drama queen. Depression is not a dessert best served alone. It can be very cold.

 I know all the punchlines to my jokes so hearing them over-and-over in my head is not good. I always know what's coming. Of course I need to bring in the drama by posting heavy, brooding troubadours like John Prine, Johnny Cash, Tom Waits, The Cure and Kris Kristofferson. I love to share my pain. Ever since I was a little boy I always felt that songs could capture my emotions and express them better than my own yapping. I still feel that way. When I found myself listening to John Coltrane all day I knew there was a problem. Note to readers: Coltrane is great to chill out to but not recommended if your hamster just died.

I have learned from my depression and recovery that the best solution for keeping a healthy attitude is by getting out of myself. I picked up the phone and called some people in recovery. Unfortunately when two people in recovery try to make a plan of action you end up with 5 opinions. I went outside. I talked to a couple friends and I checked my Facebook.

Facebook takes a bad rap. I think it is ingenius. While I was feeling low I had words of encouragement from old friends, new friends, strangers, my grade school science teacher and folks who suffer from the same maladies I do. That is far out! That is technology at it's finest. When I get a friend request from "Hot Mama Waitin" things get a little dicey. I thank you all for being my friends.

The problem for me is when I get the strange notion that I can control people, places and things. Worry is not innate. We picked it up along the way along with anxiety. I can say that I have never worried my way into pleasant conclusions consistently. It's a wasted energy. I think the Buddhists got something there. Did you ever see a pissed off Tibetan monk? I didn't think so. I have yet to see the Dalai Lama punch a photographer on CNN. I have learned that I can't sit on the problem or I will slowly rot. If I take hold of the solution I grow and thrive.

Last night, Squeaky and I went to our first recovery group for people who have addicts in their lives. It was unusual for me to be on the other side of the table and hear what it's like to live with addiction, or more accurately, how it effects everyone. Addiction is like a bad potato. When one starts to rot it makes everyone around them rot to. It enlightened me and stung a little. There was a young girl who reflected on late night fights and broken dishes. Childhood incidents that I lived and can recall like yesterday were suddenly brought back to the forefront. My anger at my stepfather grew steadily. That was until I remembered he is dead now. You win some, you lose some! I have forgiven him.

The main thing to remember is every day is a gift. Sometimes the gift is G.I. Joe with kung fu grip, other days it's a turtleneck. Thats the way it goes. When I think I'm in the dumps I have to remember there are people all over the world living in dumps. I can only do my best. When I don't try to make someone smile or reach out a hand of encouragement I'm not showing God my appreciation for pulling me from the horrible pit, the miry clay that was my life for 20 plus years.

If you're not comfortable in your skin, if you're miserable or if you're at the end of your rope, then call a friend. If you don't you might throw that rope over the limb of an old oak tree. I have been to those depths. It wasn't until I reached out my hand for help that I was saved from myself. Sometimes you have to surrender the battle to win the war. Sometimes life is going to give you a turtleneck or worse yet, tube socks. I will always reach out for help because I know in my soul I can't handle this on my own or I will self-destruct and waste away.

Thank you again for being there for me. Sunny is getting stronger by the day. We are optimistic but realistic. I have to turn things over to God and the people around me. I can do many things by myself but I am never alone. There is strength in numbers. Sometimes you're the dog, sometimes you're the hydrant. That's the way it goes. Thanks for helping me back out of the pit. The air is much fresher up here. I have put away the Coltrane and have turned up the Beatles, Led Zeppelin and Van Morrison. Like Sly said in the Summer of Love, "I'm just here to celebrate!" God Bless!

Seven Hundred and Thirty......Todays!

Today is the 2 year anniversary of my last mind altering drug or drink. The date is an important milestone in many respects because it is a date of reference to when my life was given back to me. I take little credit for the 730 days of sobriety. I just didn't use drugs or alcohol during that time frame. The physical end to my using was just the beginning. I am sober because I surrendered to a God whom I have a relationship with and the support of other alcoholic addicts who have shown me how to live life as it comes. I also have a supportive wife and family whom I have discovered are really beautiful people.

731 days ago I was trapped in my addiction. I was enslaved to its unrelenting domination of my body and soul and I wished I was dead. Those last few days I could no longer handle my drinking and couldn't imagine life without drinking. I was trapped, a dog chasing his tail that he would never catch. I would wake up with a urine soaked bed, hatred towards myself and indescribable shame, self-loathing and cold isolation. I was having multiple anxiety attacks daily, my wife was secretly shopping for a new home and I was soon to be fired. I drank to forget these painful experiences but created even more pain in doing so.

On January 17, 2009 I had a revelation. It was quite simple. I could not, not drink through my own will power. No matter how many times I made promises to my wife and myself that "This time I mean it," I would end up drunk that very evening. On that day I surrendered. I knew I had lost the battle and was on a fast track to death. I begged to God, whom I thought was Santa Claus up until then, to help me quit drinking today. He heard me that day and I haven't been drunk or high since then.

As each new today came, I asked him to take control of my will power and spend time with people who were trying to stay sober just like me. For the longest time I thought these people didn't exist. I was "one of a kind". "My problems were different than yours," "you don't understand!" I found out that they had all said the same things when they stopped using. The excuses and denial wrapped in justification was the same in all the addicts I met. We were doing the same things and feeling the same agony as each other. We were just doing it with different people in different places.

I kept my life simple and easy to manage. I didn't obsess about the uncertainty of the future or guilt and shame of my past. I began to live one 24 hour dose of life at a time. Hours were easier to manage than weeks, months, years and decades of fear and remorse, self hate and self-destruction. I had tried for 20 plus years to figure EVERYTHING out on my own. An impossible feat for even the healthiest of minds.

As the days go by, the desire to use has miraculously left me. Today I can look in a mirror and not want to spit at the guy staring back at me. Today I can look people in the eye instead of staring at the ground or shooting my glances away, certain they could see the fear that paralyzed me in the windows to my soul. Today I have a wife who has a husband, not a baby, to raise. Today I have self respect and respect for others. Today I don't have to be right all the time or know all the answers.

Today, when my depression and anxiety build up in me, I have people to turn to to help me cope. Today I am a good husband, father, son and friend. Today people can depended on me and believe the things I say. Today I am free to choose life instead of dwelling on death. Today I can do all the things I would plan for tomorrow when I was wasted. Today I am a man, not a child. Today I am not a victim or martyr. Today I am sober because I turned to God and my fellows and sincerely reached my hand out for help. Today I reach my hand out to people who once felt like I did 731 days ago.

Today I am alive, sober, free and sane because I started living each today one at a time. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow may come. Today is all I have. I might have another shot tomorrow at a new today. Today I am grateful for what I have, and more importantly, what I haven't been given. Today I am ALIVE!

If you are trapped in addiction or depression make a plan for today only. Just don't use today. Call a friend to watch over you, email me, share your pain and accept that we can do nothing alone in this world except breathe and pray. We all need each other every today. The last 20 plus years have shown me that when I go it alone, I don't manage as well as I think. With the help of God, people and hope, I can make it through today.