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Funny both my father who died when I was 11 to suicide, but really to alcoholism and addiction, and my step father who stepped into my life right after his death, both listened to Earl Nightingale tapes almost religiously. I listen to them over and over, as well as other philosophers and sales training gurus, and they almost always make me feel amazing. I hear different things at different times in my life. When I was 18 and trying just to survive I heard, just try, and God will get your back, as I remember it seemed so daunting, such a huge prospect to provide for a family at 18, but sure enough, after only six months of really struggling we were making really good money and I bought my wife and I a house. Now, emerging from the wreckage of the tail end of 20 years of destructive drinking and drugging I’ve really been hearing a different message as I listened to this former Marine, WW2 vet with his amazingly soothing voice.

I’ve been hearing, “Not only is it good to be working towards a goal, but you, as a human being, as a man, are most happy, when working HARD And Diligently to a worthy goal.” I think back over my life, and so it is the clear uncut truth. When I was trying to buy Anne Marie that house and provide food for my son, or when I was first trying to get sober, or then once I’d started the book, and the project of Books4freee.com, immersed in those goals, that is when I am the most happy, useful and whole.

Applying Think and Grow Rich’s principles from Napoleon Hill, a man who studied all the giants for industry, from Henry Ford to Thomas Edison, and believed that having a stated goal you said aloud in the morning right when you wake ups well as at nite right before you go to bed allows the principle of autosuggestion to tap into Infinite Intelligence, or God and keeps you focused on that goal all day long. I’ve never actually employed the principle without it working… it’s almost magic… and more it makes my days go by so much faster, and ever better happier. When I was sitting around waiting for the software to be developed for my new project, I had too much time on my hands and I was not anywhere near as happy as now, that I’m out in the field selling it! I don’t think I would be very happy retiring, I am much happier working towards a goal.

I’ve often marveled at how similar Napoleon Hill’s program, with it’s principles of autosuggestion and the Program of Alcoholics Anonymous really are. He is a big believer in the Mastermind Principle, as were quite a few philosophers in recorded history, most notable, Jesus Christ who said “Wherever two or more are there in my name” there I am , and whatever is asked for shall be received, so how fitting is it that almost all sponsors tell you to pray thanks at the end of every day and please give me strength at the beginning. Not too far off from stating a Definite Mission Statement summarizing a steady realization of a goal, worthy to be had, both morning and night. What is a meeting if not a Mastermind Principle, stating that all of us are there to stay sober, just for today.

Every time I tried staying sober on my own, I lasted a week or two, tops and then I would “Change my mind about sobriety.” Not only would I not change my mind once joining AA, but the staying sober part became much much easier. As if the bond that connects us has it’s own weight, it’s own mass, it’s own properties that make 1+1 = 4 instead of 2. It does ya know. It’s magic. I love it and I love the rooms.

If you find yourself unhappy in AA, get a goal. Hell, get a job, and then a goal. Something to works towards. Your OWN dreams, not somebody else s. And DREAM BIG, that’s what makes it exciting!!!!

Check out my featured profile on :

Theaddictedproject.com

How awesome to be listed among the ranks of VIII Days Clean!!! Slowly but surely!!!

They’ve got a picture of my real face up there, but fuck it, anonymity is overrated, and how anonymous can you really be in the age of facebook with over 3k AA friends connected to your profile, lol.

-Jared Bryan Smith

Wow, what an honor, to be asked to do anything at all special regarding the book, but to be asked to be a featured author for a recovery based website, I mean, that’s damn near moving.

I’ve made a lot of mistakes in recovery, I’ve not always been the kindest, most humble human being on Earth, but one thing I think I have done is stayed honest, and stayed true to the retelling of my unique story and the tragedy as well as triumph I’ve been through, from losing both parents, to stealing from my dying mother, to losing my mind and ultimately almost my life to Hep C. I was honest in the story, in the book Hippopotamus Sea, and though it doesn’t always paint a proud picture it paints an honest one of what that experience was like. To be asked by Joshua Robbins to be a featured author is more than an honor, it makes it all worth while.

Every review, every pat on the back, every small purchase of 99 cents from smashwords all make me feel like it was worth something. That spending three years writing it and shoveling through all that emotion, and the even more painful sharing of that emotion and allowing others to see all that vulnerability, is something that not a day goes by and I don’t at least ponder the good sense of, but ultimately, as time ticks on and I get letters and emails from other Hep C and Interferon sufferers, I am glad I was guided by my higher power to write, finish and bare my soul to the world. It was worth every drop of tears, sweat and blood, when a fellow artist reaches out to you and says “hey man, I like your work and I’d like to make you our featured author.” It means the world to me and I’m really humbled.

I’m humbled but also thrilled and excited to be a part of the project, and glad, able and willing to contribute on the project moving forward.

Show some love when you get a chance and check it out on:

http://www.theaddictedproject.com

and when you get a chance please read the book Hippopotamus Sea: My Viral Sobriety from smashwords for 99 cents and please please please, leave a review as Indie publishing lives and dies by grassroots support. Thanks so much!

-Jared Bryan Smith

What a long, long weekend.

Sobriety is filled with firsts. Whenever I’ve begun to feel comfortable and well rounded in this program, seems like I always find a new challenge to face, a new layer of the onion to peel and learn somehow to yet again grow a bit. I’m a VP of Sales for a technology company that sells to amongst other clients, restaurants. The National Restaurant Association has a huge event in Chicago every year and my boss signed me up to go this year and I didn’t think twice about going, in fact I was quite excited, as I’ve always done inside sales, and never in my career ever traveled to do any kind of sales at all.

How’s the saying go, wear your sobriety like a loose shirt, but don’t forget to put the shirt on every morning. Well, for some reason, I forgot to put the shirt on. Or I was just careless or didn’t think it through, I’m really not sure. I asked a friend of mine who I’ve known in Chicago for over 20 years, who grew up with me in Atlanta and whom I began my drinking and drugging career with back in middle school. Why the thought didn’t occur to me that this might be careless, hell, even dangerous is beyond me. I really just didn’t think it through.

I woke up early to get to Chicago and after landing, walking the convention all day I get back to his place, where he’d left a key, and try to go to sleep. After about an hour, he comes in there, into the room I’m sleeping, and drunk as hell, shakes me until I wake up, all with the best intentions, but just 100% oblivious as to what waking up to an obnoxious drunk idiot might be like to a recovered alcoholic. I was already irritated he failed to mention his huge white lab, as I’m allergic to dogs, but good lord, to wake me up in the middle of the night drunk off your ass, to reminisce, I mean seriously? It went downhill from there.

I didn’t get back to sleep till 4 am, I walked the convention the whole next day, when I returned he was drinking red wine. I love the guy, but I don’t hang out with drunk people for a reason. I’m just a different person than I used to be.

What’s more was the insight into my personality changes he noted. He told me, “As soon as I saw you, I could tell your confidence was shaken.” I am still not sure how to take this. The thing is for 20 years I had a false bravado, an alcoholic fueled, megalomania that was delusional, dangerous, and was leading me to death. Perhaps humility is what he saw and just misinterpreted it. I don’t really know. I don’t really care. As the quote above says, deep in the center of my being I know who I am and what I want, and I have the answer, and it is to be a good humble human being, not a self assured, ego driven nut-job that I used to be. I’m much more confident now in my heart of hearts than I ever was before, whether that shows on my face or not.

I know what he means. He’s referring to the kind of confidence, a con man uses to pull his cons. Or a womanizer uses to seduce. He’s referring to a certain arrogance that actually does work in this world most of the time, but one that I don’t and prefer not to emit anymore. I can still sell good ideas I believe in, and I can still convey good ideas, I need not beam a ray of greater than thou bullshit to accomplish the missions I choose to embark on now. I might lose a few girls, or a few accounts, or be thought of as humble or weak from time to time by not emitting that King of the World egotistical confidence game I used to carry around with me so effectively, but in my heart of hearts I knew that person was a fraud. I was never that confident, it was always a lie. An egomaniac with an inferiority complex we call it. How true, and how sad. I didn’t fight because I was a bad ass, I fought because I was scared. Mark Twain said “Never fight a little man, he will kill you.” I carried around an aire of superiority while I was drinking and drugging that some recognized and even loved, but that ultimately drove me to drinking alone, friendless, hopeless, dying in a rat infested shack all by myself. I may not be that same confident man, but I am a better man for it, no doubt.

And it’s no great loss that someone still suffering in the throes of addiction, and ultimately denial, would recognize my lost ego, and point that out as a blatant negative change, and then lecture me on how it’s all about a relationship with God and a higher power, drunk and high, at 3 am, walking in an alleyway in Chicago, while all I wanted to do was rest. In fact, I should have expected it, and I should have prepared better for it. Fortunately I have a program of recovery. I have a sponsor, who has a sponsor, and even after the meeting at the Mustard Seed AA Clubhouse in Chicago turned out to be another fiasco of the trip, I had a network of men I could call in Atlanta and talk to and thankfully, relate to. I didn’t need a drunks approval, or assessment of my “confidence”. I have a network of men in Atlanta that know how much I’ve been through, how much I’ve changed, and know that there’s no going back to that old ego driven JB but that the way to self esteem is doing esteem-able things, and if at 4.5 years sober that’s still not as high as it was when artificially amped up by drugs and alcohol, well then you just need to keep on working on it. So I don’t have the woman of my dreams yet, or all the tea in China, or the BMW M3, I still have good friends and family that love and care for me, that know I’m way better off here and now than when I was back there killing my self slow.

Still it was good to land back in Atlanta and get to a meeting. I went straight to 8111 and caught the 10 pm meeting, and I felt like I’d touched home base. Confidence shaken, lol, yeah, well, I learned a few things this weekend. 1) Don’t stay with friends who still drink like fish 2) Know where the good meetings are  3) don’t park next to the anthills at hartsfield and 4) get your own rental car in strange cities. I am an alcoholic, and I can’t be dependent on other people to get to meetings when I’m elsewhere, period the end.

Oh I did think of an awesome APP we should develop though, “CLOSEST AA MEETING” using your smart phones GPS ,geo locate you and timestamp to find closest applicable AA meeting. I can’t believe it’s not already on the market?!! Who wants to partner on this, I kind of have my hands full. It’s good to be home, great to be sober, and good to know just who I am, and who knows me. My name is JB Smith and I’m an alcoholic, and also… not fond of smelly people on airplanes.

-Jared Bryan Smith

If I’m honest when I write, I don’t have to fear what’s been published. Especially if I’m writing passionately about moods and emotions which can change like the winds. The cool thing is that the internet is permanent, as in forever, not going anywhere, and it is conceivable that this blog will exist for my grandchildren or even further out. How cool is that? Immortality, but probably hidden into obscurity with all the other immortals. Haha, that is fine, I’m ok with that. I am special, just like everybody else. 🙂

It would be awesome to be able to read my grandfathers blog, who was a Colonel in the USAF, or even further back. Listen to their daily struggles and challenges. I would especially love to know if there were other alcoholics or OCD’s that learned how to either defeat the disease or manage their OCD, I mean that shit would have been invaluable.

We lost a kid in the rooms around north Atlanta yesterday. In and out for years, it’s pretty standard, par for the course, nobody I’ve ever met dies without first being introduced to AA, being shown the light, told the truth, and then making their own decision. It is with no amount of casualness they say, ” There are those who will not completely give themselves to this simple program, usually men and women who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves” for this is the MOST COMMON THEME OF THOSE THAT DIE. They couldn’t fucking be honest with anyone around them. And if you can’t be honest with those around you, you most certainly can’t be honest with yourself.

This blog, went from an average of 100 hits or so a day up to 1435 or so on the day after the Osama blog, with the Mark Twain misquote, and then I introduced all the eff bombs, and as fate would have it, the blog traffic, nosedived to roughly 20 or so a day. I think the eff bombs takes it off the wordpress search results or something. So fucking what. I really don’t care. I don’t write this for traffic, or even to sell books so much, as I do to record my history, get down in written format what I’m honestly struggling with as I get through year 4 of sobriety. Having overcome some serious challenges this year, I am glad  I have a written, honest and thorough description of it, recorded for my own posterity, and if I’m lucky, my bloodlines later on down the road. God willing they don’t all get into Pro Wrestling and at least one of them decides they like to read and hell maybe even write. And if not, at least I’ll have it all for my own records in 10-20 -50 years, whatever, I’m only 33, a lot can happen between now and death. And unlike that poor kid Bryan who drank himself to death in his twenties behind the same movie theatre my best friend Shane Oleander from my book had his heart attack in and later died from, I will God willing live a long and fruitful life, not marred by delusional thinking, but clear, concise, and when I die, people will be able to say, he lived most of his life honestly. Even if it was humiliating or emberressing, he was honest, and therefore able to work on those things that were skewed in his life.

Honesty is the ace, the trump card in this program, it makes all things possible. It is the first principle of the first step. Everyone I know who is dead from this disease from my Dad to the latest victim Bryan T. , whose family was so tired of his antics they weren’t even going to have a funeral but instead were just cremating the body, cause that’s how drunks die, ALL SHARED AN INABILITY TO BE HONEST. If you want to ever get sober, or HELL JUST NOT DIE, start being honest. Or prepare for the worst. You aren’t special, nobody escapes the inevitability of this disease, you will die, quick or slow, if you continue  being dishonest, lying, cheating, stealing, getting fucked up and giving the finger to the creator who has showed you a way out, that window will close.

If you are in the dark, I pray you find light. It’s never too late to come back to the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous.

-Jared Bryan Smith

The recovered drug addict/alcoholic such as myself, is apt to find that even without drugs and alcohol, he is still quite capable of obsessing over certain things. With 4.5 years of real sobriety now, I’ve obsessed over everything from WW2 strategy games, to my book Hippopotamus Sea which took three years to write and finish. The most dangerous of all obsessions, the female human being, is another matter indeed. The latter is by far the most thrilling and exciting chase, but also as it turns out the one with the highest stakes.

Recently I’ve been receiving odd mail, not hate mail, but definitely negatively barbed emails from a variety of sources, and one of them I found particularly amusing. Supposedly from a lady in NC, she said I “lose credibility” while writing about getting  over the girl I obsessed over recently and wrote about in the blog. Credibility to who? Who am I trying to be credible too exactly? I’m a recovered junkie for fucks sake. I quite openly admit I’m an ex addict, opiate, cocaine, alcoholic survivor with qualities of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which I honestly believe MOST if  not ALL of us in recovery suffer from, so exactly how would writing about those symptoms make me less credible? Hmmm… it’s kind of like being written to in broken English and spelling errors in which the message says, “Your dum,” instead of the way it should be written: “You’re dumb.” Miss spellings and grammar issues aside, if you don’t understand why an addict would write about his obsessions, and how he intended on getting over them, go fuck yourself, or better yet, don’t read my blog.

Progress not perfection, and though yes, getting over the last was a challenge, I do believe I’ve learned many valuable lessons, and I assure you, the lessons being recorded, and timeless as the internet is, are more valuable than the so called credibility of one  naysayer who would prefer I bottle it all up, and or write it in a journal. Lol, the funny thing about that journal comment that was mentioned to me though, is that, I do also journal, every single night, in what is basically my tenth step work on a nightly basis. I began writing in this particular journal the day after me and said obsession split up the first time, so August of 2010. 2/3rds of that book is about the pain of loving someone who doesn’t love you back. Now to go from August to December beating your head against a wall is a long fucking time, but having that written history privately, and yeah, that shit is unpublishable is good, but writing about overcoming it here, is just as valuable. What I’ve written here, is humbling, humiliating, embarrassing even, but also good for me to have written, processed and published.

For one thing, in 20 some odd years of dating women, having only fallen for three or so in my life, this is the very first time I cut the cord, told the person to leave me alone, and to never contact me again no matter what and then actually stuck with it. That is progress not perfection. I did that in early January and I was right to do it. I could tell she was lying to me, and my gut instinct was right. Within a couple of months that would be proven right beyond a shadow of a doubt. Valuable lesson: always trust your gut.

Secondly, though it wasn’t all at once, the obsession did slowly begin to lift. Rob an obsession of it’s fuel, IE speaking to them, seeing them, etc. and just like with alcohol, drugs and nicotine that obsession will slowly lift, and you will slowly see through the obsession and into the truth of the matter. I wasn’t being loved, I was being used. My perception allowed me to see any relative act of kindness as love, but the reality, which all too many people in my network told  me, was that I was being played, and though I didn’t want to believe that, as I put time and space between me and the situation I slowly but surely began to see that.

Thirdly, praying and following my intuition about finding a Godly woman of the same faith as mine, opened up doors I could have never imagined. I began attending a good church and met a ton of good new people, and though it is different and not anything like my expectations, it is good, and it is where God wants me to be, just for today, which I can accept. The whole process has taught me a lot. The last woman I loved before this, Gwen Evere in the book, took my soul to a new depth of depravity and hell I thought would I never reach, and I feel like at 4.5 years sober this was another lesson, or even a test, and had I not cut the cord in January, I would have set myself up for even more pain and suffering than I had to go through anyway.

Removing the fire, or stopping seeing her, avoiding her, not talking to her, being disconnected from her in every way, really helped out. She added the final nails in the coffin in February when her ex came back on the scene, who was never far removed no matter what she had told the world, her friends or her family, and with finality she removed me from facebook. Funny that it stung, irritating to the pride and ego, I hadn’t spoken to her once, emailed, called or texted, but she felt it necessary to remove my facebook connection. That was a blessing too though. Her face had continued to pop up on that upper left hand corner, facebook prodding and laughing at me, it was good that she ended even that subtle communication. Good for me anyway. Valuable lesson: Cut ALL ties, including facebook, texting, email, EVERYTHING.

I continued praying for her, for her happiness, for her sobriety, and praying for the obsession to be removed, but it was still pretty intense.

“I do not think that obsession is funny or that not being able to stop one’s intensity is funny.” ~ Jim Dine

There were times in early to mid February that I was hurting pretty bad. God put some other things in my life that kept me sane. Church, work, and I dove into step-work to get out of myself, but I was still pretty angry.

Time takes times as we say though, and by early April, I finally felt like myself again.

Just like with sobriety, my serenity came piece meal, in waves, not all at once or all encompassing, but in bits and parts. I remember early on in sobriety I would get like one day of relief and then have a week of obsessing over drinking and drugging. Then I’d get two days and feel relieved, amazed even, but then experience a week or two even of obsession, but I would cling to that day or two of serenity, of peace, because it would be like proof, like the example of what I was striving for. And ultimately that is how getting over this woman was, it was the same process, I had to do it, no matter what, because just like active addiction, of alcohol or heroin, this emotional pain and distress was killing me, and I couldn’t go on with it, it hurt too fucking much. So I would take what little peace I had, cling to the idea that it was just a sample of the future peace and serenity I would get if I stuck to the path, and continued on my way, and sure enough, just like with drugs, alcohol and nicotine, my obsession slowly lifted.

Still, occasionally cravings would return. I hadn’t thought of her in two weeks easy and was coasting along beautifully, when she walked into my candlelight meeting to pick up her nine month candle, and fuck if that didn’t send my heart through my chest. I was mad at myself, mad at my inability to control my emotions, and mad at her, for looking at me like I was some kind of evil bastard. That glare was so powerful, I swear if looks could kill I’d have died on the spot. It was like being in early sobriety and walking into a room where everyone was smoking kind bud, drinking your favorite beer, and listening to your favorite music. All the lie was out to see, and none of the truth of your disease, that the addiction was out to kill you was hidden, just the beauty of it all, just the deception.

Time takes time though, and all I could do was be grateful that I’d had the brief reprieve I’d had, and hope that it would continue to get better and better.

It has, and finally, after five months, yesterday, I saw her best friend at a Starbucks and I could have sworn I saw her, sitting next to her, because all I could see was the top of her little blond head, and for the first time since January, my heart didn’t go through my chest. My blood pressure didn’t even change. I can honestly say I’m over the whole bullshit obsession. The funny thing too, I went to write that down in my journal last night, and it was the VERY last page of my journal, the book of pain is finally closed, completely and categorically. The emotions 100% tempered. I thought the entire time my roommate and I were in Starbucks that she was out in the parking lot with her friend and I had no desire to see her, speak to her, or even glance that direction. The funny thing is when we were leaving it turned out it wasn’t her at all but her friends kid, who is a blond, so it wasn’t even her, but regardless, the emotion was gone, cooled, controlled. Thank fucking God…finally.

Irritating that people read shit I posted months and months ago, or a poem that clearly states it was written months and months ago, and take it for my present state of mind. Or think that I give a shit what some stranger in NC thinks of my credibility, truly, I am brutally honest, I know this, I don’t seek or need or want your approval.

Getting over a woman completely and utterly in just less than five months, sure as fuck beats the 7 years or so it took for me to get over Gwen Evere. For me, it is huge progress. If I lose credibility with whomever the fuck reads the earlier postings as I was going through the obsession, oh fucking well. The idea of this blog is to be unique, original, and brutally honest. It is also supposed to help other men, not the women of AA, as I wouldn’t know the first thing about their emotions, nor do I suspect do they. My plan, though a day at a time, is to outlast my disease and die sober, and being that I’m 33 that will make for some pretty good, albeit intense, life lessons, that I will publish and make available to all those that are interested in how to face challenges and overcome them in the program. Every fucking guy I know in the program with real long term sobriety has faced woman issues, and more specifically, obsessions with them, and/or sex, so if I lose credibility by being honest, instead of acting like some fucking holier than thou guru, I really don’t give a shit. The only credibility I seek is that of being just another bozo on the bus, just another garden variety drunk, and I’m glad my writing still gets feedback and comments and all that shit, because it means people read it. In fact, we broke a record the other day with 1435 people reading the blog, so to the one jackass retard who thinks I lose creditability for being honest… blow me. Blow me enough and maybe you’ll be my new obsession, lol.

The very point of all of this is to live and learn, and if I fancy it all up and put lipstick all over the pig of my obsessions, it would have been a lie. I’m not unique in feeling obsessions over a woman in AA. Someone saying “Oh he’s obsessed” is fucking comical. If you aren’t obsessed with something in recovery at some point, you’re a sociopath, or most likely, just a fucking hypocrite. Remember, whenever you point the finger their are four coming back at you. For me, it is amazing progress for me to have first cut the cord on the obsession, and second stuck with it until it was 100% totally gone. I’ve written it in here as a record of how I did it so that someone else may learn from the experience and hopefully apply the same lessons. If you believe you are better than the VERY common symptoms of alcoholics around the globe, well good for you and God bless your little heart, I hope you stay holier than thou for as long as you can, because if you don’t have the humility to relate to what I’m writing about, you will very probably experience some of the same exact turmoil. Lets hope that you can get through them as successfully as I have, because love me or hate me, I’ve accomplished quite a bit when it comes to sobriety, including, getting over the urge to drink and drug, finishing a year of Interferon, defeating Hep C, losing 50 lbs, quitting smoking, running half marathons and more. You may not like me, but you may just find we have more in common than we do apart.

We are all sick people trying to get better, and the only reason I write this is to try and help others, just as others have helped me.

Thank you God for giving me the strength to persevere, and overcome ALL my obsessions. At 4.5 years sober, I’m still just as capable of obsessing as I was when I came in, but having gone through this last year, I now know that there is NOTHING on God’s green Earth that I can’t get over, given enough time, patience, and endurance. I truly have faith that ultimately you have a good plan worked out for me better than any that I could possibly imagine. God’s will not mine be done… And thanks for the Osama kill, we needed some good news.  ; )

-Jared Bryan Smith

Mark Twain once wrote about a parade of soldiers, recruits mostly joining up to go fight the Mexican border wars after the Civil War, and it goes, “I have no urge to go kill men I’ve never met” but the difference of course is he never saw with his own eyes the evil perpetuated by the enemy, I believe in the case of Bin Laden, Twain would have been moved beyond pacifism, because he, cynic though he was, also appreciated and loved civilization, and hated violence in the name of God, slavery, and all other forms of man insanity. Western civilization has many flaws, but turning the dial back ten centuries would have appalled Twain even more which is what Bin Laden’s dream world looked like.

I walked ground zero about nine days after 9/11 and I remember the smoldering rubble, still smoking, piled higher than the buildings around still standing. I remember the photographs of the missing, the drawings of faces plastered all over the walls as you approached ground zero, but mostly I remember the people, still suffering, waiting, hoping against hope nine days later that somehow, their missing relative was still alive, that it was all somehow a terrible mistake. Denial is a powerful powerful emotion. Denial hits everyone on Earth in times of great distress, and 9/11 was no exception. I will never forget holding victims families, crying on my shoulder, having to tell them their family was dead. It felt cruel, but it was honest. They were dead, and they weren’t coming back. We in recovery are very familiar with denial, drugged out kookie ass looking people telling you all about their spiritual experience, claiming to know about sobriety, screaming to the world they know best, when their lives are clearly a wreck. Denial is ugly, and the humility it takes to get past it, is rare. What it really takes is a gut level honesty, and few find it. People will live a lie, nine days later, walking around, hoping against hope that their dead loved one didn’t die. It’s really a lack of acceptance. Stubborn selfishness… but it happens to a lot of us, in recovery and outside. Denial is a human trait.

Ten years later we got that motherfucker, with his son, with his wife, and killed them all. Good riddance. Rot in hell you backwards ass egomaniac murderer. Mark Twain didn’t see the towers fall. We did. Fuck Bin Laden and fuck all his followers, and anyone who kills innocent civilians in the name of whatever the fuck. Let it be a lesson, if you fuck with the United States, we will invade your country or your neighbors and hunt you down until we find you, kill you, and your family and dump your fucking body at sea. Thanks to all those sung and most especially those UNSUNG heroes that for security reasons, clearances, and mostly vows to their nation, can never speak about what it is they’ve done in the massive ten year effort to bring this son of a bitch to justice. There has been much blood, time and energy sacrificed that WILL NEVER HIT THE NEWS, and those men and women will never be able to whine about shit in a meeting, or to a shrink, they will just have to walk alone and carry their burdens between themselves, their God, and their superior officers. A prayer of thanks to everyone whose sacrificed in whatever way their nation asked them to, to get this piece of shit and remove him from the Earth.

If you are in denial about anything else in your life, be honest with those around you that love you, your family, your network, your sponsor, and ask them how they think you’re doing, and really listen to what they have to say, don’t just wait for a chance to speak. Listen… sometimes the truth hurts like hell, just before it sets you free.

To read more about my story of recovery from alcoholism, addiction, Hep C, and Interferon, including walking ground zero a couple of weeks after the 9/11 strikes, please read my book  4 free on:

http://www.books4free.com

or for kindle, nook, or ipad for only .99 cents on Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/19066

and available in hardback from amazon:

-Jared Bryan Smith

Few people really do their own thinking. As Mark Twain said, the only original thought written down was either Adam or Eve. That being said, too much deferring of your thoughts, or living by other people’s opinions can be hugely detrimental to your life, and most especially if you’re in the program of Alcoholics Anonymous.

It’s perplexing though, because in our program we get a sponsor. Or a teacher. They walk us through the big book. But all too often that isn’t who gives you most of your opinions. Generally it’s the person with whom you spend the most time, whether that is a lover, a friend or a sponsor, in early sobriety, you have got to remember, it is easier to be pulled down, than it is to pull someone up. Hell, I had to change sponsors my first week because I didn’t like being yelled at. Also, for me, the other warning signs were that he wouldn’t tell me who his higher power was. Call me superstitious but if you’re higher power is Lucifer, I don’t want to pray with you, and if you’re too ashamed to say it’s either God, Jesus or at the very least the Holy Spirit, then I clearly wasn’t working with the right person. But I stuck it out, stayed sober that week, and waited around till I got a hold of my current sponsor. He kept me relatively sober for the first few months of my sobriety and then I switched from him to a Buddhist, very laid back guy by the name of Pete, who had 18 years sober, but had drank on the way out of Katrina due to their being zero fresh water. Not sure if that story is true, he’s since died, but it sure sounded romantic.

My point is, we alcoholics are VERY VERY susceptible to the moods, serenity, and/or confusion and chaos of those around us. As the Bible says, “Iron sharpens Iron” and the opposite is true as well. “A fool returns to his folly like a dog to his vomit.” – Proverbs.  If you’re in sobriety and those around you are CLEARLY LYING, STEALING or any other OBVIOUS character defect is coming out, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THEM, they are poisonous and if at first it repels you, but then you find it ok, or justified, you are already on the slippery slope back out the door. Living a spiritual life is not an experiment, it’s not a luxury, it’s a mandatory way of life, and if someone you know is holding your hand, whispering sweet things in your ear, but quite obviously leading you down a shady road, get the fuck away from them. Living dishonestly is the path to ruin, it’s the soft subtle sell to a drink, and for us to drink is to die.

Pick your friends wisely, your lovers more wisely, your sponsor with care, and if people do consistently lie, cheat and steal, even just to other people, and not you, it doesn’t fucking matter, get the fuck away from them before their shit becomes your shit, and you end up right fucking back where you came from. Shaking, in pain, miserable, confused, with the obsession to drink and drug on you like it never left, and more so, if the obsession to drink and drug hasn’t left, after 6 months or so, look at your spiritual life. Generally it’s as obvious as the first principle of the first step. Are you being honest with everyone, including yourself and God?

If that question makes you feel uncomfortable, than get to work, getting rid of the bad in your life, and ask those that love you for help in doing so. You’ve never burned a bridge in AA, everybody is here to help you, but it’s for those who want the help not for those who need it. You merely need to ask. Ask those with ten plus years of solid sobriety, who work good and decent jobs, and always have a smile on their faces, “What am I doing wrong?” “How do I get to where you are?” “How do I become happy in AA?” It can be done, and it starts with being HONEST.

It is both good and bad that we morph into those we spend most of our time with. Look around you and ask yourself, are they positive bright people? If I had children would I want them to be around these people? Are they kind, passive, peace loving, God fearing? Would they turn the other cheek, could I leave a pile of money in the room and walk away without fear they would take it and run? Would they lie to me? Do they lie to me regularly? Do they lie to others regularly? These things sound basic, but all too often people become accustom to the worst of behavior patterns, and having suffered through them so long, begin to see them as normal.

Find good people to spend your time with, even if uncomfortable at first. Search your soul for truth and ask yourself and God the hard questions? Are the people I spend most of my time with good at heart, or are they bad for my soul, God please help me to see the truth in all things. If your aim is to seek truth, you will always be doing the will of God, and if you truly seek God’s will, I’ve always found he makes it easy for you to see the obvious.

-Jared Bryan Smith

Vacuum of loss,

A faithful sidearm.

But failure lingers,

Cries out in alarms.

Death beckons of finality,

Lost words irrelevant.

Like smoke, memories, reality,

Opportunity lost heaven-sent?

Regret but wasted thought,

Time flows relentless.

For every second, won and fought,

Your harshness purely groundless.

Amends for amends,

A downward spiral spins.

Eye for an eye makes the world blind,

So sever all that binds… and run.

Stop raging against the current,

Change things for different results.

Brush shoulders with all this torment.

– Jared Bryan Smith

Reading my poetry and then going to listen to some others, I’m struck by how simple some of them are, and then again some are also complex, as my favorite poem John Lennon’s Across The Universe, which many prolific writers have said was the best poem of the 20th century…. regardless, here a couple that came to mind.

Through The Morning Through The Night

Robert Plant/Alison Krauss performed/Gene Clark written

Believe me when I tell you
I will try to understand
Believe me when I tell you
I could never kill a man

But to know that another man’s holding you tight
Hurts me, little darling
Thru the morning thru the night

The bond has been broken
The promise you gave
The words that were spoken
I can not be your slave

But to know that the trust you had in me is gone
Hurts me, little darling
Thru the nightime thru the dawn

I dreamed just last night you were there by my side
Your sweet loving tenderness
Easing my pride

But then I awoke and found you not there
It was just my old memory of how much I care

Believe me when I tell you
I will try to understand
Believe me when I tell you
I could never kill a man

But to know that another man’s holding you tight
Hurts me little, darling
Thru the morning thru the night

Across The Universe
John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup,
They slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind,
Possessing and caressing me.
Jai guru de va om
Nothing’s gonna change my world,
Nothing’s gonna change my world.Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes,
That call me on and on across the universe,
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box they
Tumble blindly as they make their way
Across the universe
Jai guru de va om
Nothing’s gonna change my world,
Nothing’s gonna change my world.

Sounds of laughter shades of earth are ringing
Through my open views inviting and inciting me
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a
Million suns, it calls me on and on
Across the universe
Jai guru de va om
Nothing’s gonna change my world,
Nothing’s gonna change my world.

It was fitting that after a long day worrying over a woman, over yet another situation I have absolutely zero control of, a friend of mine called and offered me tickets to an Opera performance of Mozart’s “Cosi Fan Tutte” which translated means, “All women are like that”, I’m told but upon researching a little deeper that even that translation is off a bit, and actually it translates “Thus do they all”. One of the more memorable lines “by 15 a girl should know where the Devil hides his tail.”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cos%C3%AC_fan_tutte

Mozart was 33 years old when it was released, and he died at 34 it seems. With over 600 works. I’m 33 and I have roughly 3. lol… but also cable television, and average lifespans are prolly 50+ year now, but I digress. It’s also fascinating to me that this seemingly innocent, portrayal of life, was banned in Vienna, played briefly in London in 1812 and then didn’t resurface until after World War 2. I guess calling women loose was risque even back then, lol. I love reading about human beings shunning their most genius, ridiculing their best, not understanding, being threatened by things that are new, and most usually attacking all that is really truly honest.

The truth cuts deep, and the quote “I write fiction so I can tell the truth” rings a bell when thinking this through. But basically Mozart shows how two fiances of two men are turned from love within 24 hours, to new lovers, and that even so, those two lovers should remain true and marry them anyway, because basically they are but human beings, which we all are, and that “All Women Are Like That.” They are easily swayed, but love and marry them anyway, because you know you love them no matter what, otherwise you wouldn’t be so hurt. I loved watching the dialog and the wisdom of these words written by a man my age, in 1790, and how true the ring to this day for me.

Mozart must have been cheated on, he must have lost a woman to another man in his life to have written such a piece of work. I bet that man ridiculed his body of work too, all 600 works of it, lol. Fuck em. Everybody’s a critic. I was recently, in anonymous hate mail a couple of months back, called a “whiney psychopath” and it cut to the bone. Again, like most obsessive alcoholics, I’m childish oversensitive and grandiose, so I took it… not well. It made me think of this blog, and the book, losing my parents, and sharing about all this pain, and whether or not it does all come off as whiney or psychopathic, and shit, it may, as a friend of mine says everyone is entitled to their opinion. But I guess for me, I’m trying to do something new here with my writing. I’m trying to be brutally honest, about my thoughts, about my obsessions, about my modern life in general, because I want it as an accurate history. All of us will be dead in 100 years, but with the Internet, its conceivable that this writing will still be here, and people may want to know what it was like to live as a recovered alcoholic, in 2011, or whenever, it’s worth being honest I believe.

I know that it bleeds of vulnerability, that it drips of weakness in places, or drowns you in the minutia of an obsessive, recovered alcoholic but FUCK, its my thoughts, its me, and were I to write it more strongly, or more proud, it would be a lie, it would be false, it would be the opposite of true. I may have come off as a whiney psycho path, but I don’t believe I could have written things any other way. The point is to chronicle the pain, to grow from these learning experiences. This journey of sobriety is a marathon not a sprint, and if I don’t learn from these experiences I’m bound to repeat them. Unfortunately I don’t live in a bubble or a vacuum, and most of my pain comes from interacting with other human beings, who may not appreciate being written about, or who may misunderstand what I’m saying. Mozart’s Opera was obviously misunderstood for hundreds of years, and I am no genius, just a recovering alcoholic trying to learn from his mistakes, of which their are many. I know in my heart though that I didn’t mean anyone any pain and that I’ve been truthful in all my dealings, and that is a huge step up from the old JB who would have manipulated, lied and angled to get his way. So though I’m still a work in progress, far from perfection, I know my heart is good, I mean well, and though the blog may be personal, even though written in anonymity, these events will pass quickly, as the personal complications are all temporary, whereas the lessons learned and derived when looked back over can be permanent and hopefully shared and become wisdom for more than just my selfish ass, or whomever else they affect right this second, they can last longer than the situation, hell eternal really, you never can tell. Mozart’s best stuff is only now being played on a regular basis, hundreds of years later, and nobody has a fucking clue who the original woman who motivated him or cursed him as it were ever really was. And also, hell, he was using his real name, lol, this freaking blog is anonymous!

So yeah, somehow these thoughts dominated my mind as I was watching the Opera last night, that I never intended on upsetting anyone with my writing, ever, but that no matter what, I must remain true, continue to write, and be honest, and just know in my heart that I mean well, that I am ultimately a good man, and that if it’s misinterpreted, or critiqued by people whom don’t like me for whatever reasons, all I can do is keep on keeping on, staying sober no matter what.

Mozart was a mason too, I found out, who knew? I bet he wishes he had the word “fuck” to throw around, that would have changed an Act or two I assure you. lol…

Sooo in closing; here’s another poem pulled from the wreckage of my now distant past:

Careless Self

Quit ripping my heart out,

     Stop feasting on my flesh.

Ignorant of the pain I doubt,

     Every twinge, or twitch or breath.

Strikes horror through my soul,

     Nervous system is nervous again,

Loving you takes a toll.

     The dank of folly, the essence of sin.

Lust, camouflaged duality,

     We’re not even kind to ourselves.

Separate motives, same reality.

     Truth unopened books on shelves.

– Jared Bryan Smith