Way back, years ago when I stood in the doorway of a small apartment and looked around, the rooms were emptied again, the furniture had all been moved out. The couches were gone, cable television was disconnected, and all the photographs from the wall had been removed. I stood here in awe of my change. I lived here. More accurately, I transformed here. My world became mine again.
Continue readingOperation Depression: Suicide Prevention Week 2019
When there is no further left to fall, then there is no reason to worry about the long list of inestimable tragedies that may or may not take place.
This is it, here and now, the bottom. This is where there are only two choices, which is to remain or rebuild.
That’s all . . .
A Written Dream
I think about the places I have been to and places I have never seen. I also think of places that I’ve only dreamed of and hope to visit someday. I imagine myself elsewhere, at someplace that I’m not even sure if it truly exists.
Perhaps this place only exists to me. Or maybe I pictured this from a piece of literature, read from one of the great poets, like my favorite, Kerouac, or someone like him.
Either way, I see myself somewhere far from my usual routine and visiting an unknown crevice of the world that has not been been bordered by some man made boundary . Maybe I could be near the border, between reality and my dream. Perhaps I can see is the Gulf of Mexico from where I’d stay and the shoreline to a land of a country I know so little about.
I Knew Him As Mike
There was a decent sized meeting room next to a bookshop in a Church over on 31st Street and 7th Avenue. As a matter of fact, the place was called the book shop. I used to go here, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at noon. I went here to get my share of help from a fellowship of men and women that share the experience, strength, and hope with each other, so that they may solve a common problem.
Continue readingOperation Depression: The Path To Wellness
It seemed like I was always in a corner. As I saw it, there was always someone looking to cause me to question, “Why?
There was always someone causing me to question myself. Meanwhile, none of this was real—at least, not as real as I seemed to believe.
Either way, the main question or should I say the only real question that I had to ask myself was a simple one, which was within me, same as the answer was within me.
I did not understand my personal blindness. I did not understand what it meant to be emotionally colorblind. But how could I? This was just the way I saw things, right?
Operation Depression: To Change Beliefs
There is an inner voice to some of us, which is unspoken, yet, it says everything at the same time. There is an idea we have, deceived by our perception and our growing concern, which starts small, like a tiny piece of ground that moves before the mudslide—and then crash, it all falls down like an avalanche.
Continue readingTo Create Change
In a short while, I will be making my way to my first empowerment class, which I hold ever Sunday morning. The first of my two classes is held at the drug rehabilitation center in a county jail.
The population here changes somewhat frequently. There are some that come in and go our relatively quickly. There are some that remain for a while and await their sentencing. There are others that are looking to leave and end this portion of their life as quickly as easily as possible.
The Autumn Wind
I love this time of year.
I love the transition from summer into winter.
The leaves change.
The kids go back to school.
The mood changes too.
I like the switch that gradually moves us into the colder months.
Personal Investments
Want to laugh?
I’m going to be 47 in a few weeks. Some way, somehow, 47 years have gone by. I laugh to myself and say, “Who’d a thunk it?”
47 years . . .
Taking A Look Within
There are times when my eyes open wide enough to see clearly, and suddenly, I am aware of my actual size. I am aware of how so small I am.
In comparison to so many things, I am aware that we are all so infinitely small, and yet, I am also aware how something so small can be so amazingly huge, enormous, in fact—like a child, for example—or like an infant, or like a two year old I had never met but donated platelets from my blood. Then of course, there was a small boy that I only met for five minutes, but yet, this brief interaction changed everything for me.
The Written Addiction 