I have had the privilege and challenge of going through and sorting a lifetime worth of writings and papers from my parents, and from myself. After reading some of my mother’s personal writings, I was struck by the pain that she experienced remaining married to my father. He was not a person with the soft touch, when it came to communicating with those that he loved, especially during challenging/difficult periods of life. He was what those in the field of recovery refer to as a “dry drunk”.

Anyway, rather than focusing on my mother’s version of “pain”, I thought that I would include some of my own writings on “pain”, which originated while I was hidden in the Lovejoy Care Unit for Alcoholic Rehabilitation, in 1984. There were two different iterations for Pain that I penned while I was there, here they are:

PAIN

Though the dark cloud looms on the horizon, it is also hidden within myself.
It appears to hover in the distance, just beyond my reach, and it patiently waits my most vulnerable moment.
I then feel the initial mist from its clouds, suspecting that I am its intentional target.
A piercing wind picks up, hugging me with its frozen arms, and I vainly look for protection
As the torrential downpour begins, I feel my tenuous sense of peace and safety eroding beneath my feet.
As it strips back, layer, upon layer, upon layer, upon layer, of my consciousness, exposing a bedrock bereft of sanity.
Exposing long forgotten mental relics, threatening old, unhealed memories, and dangerous old habits,
Stinging, piercing, hurting me at my core, obscuring visions of glorious, yet impossibly distant futures,
Washing away all tenuously held possessions of sanity, and hope.
Uprooting the feeble foundation of a life desperately, but futilely, attempting to, yet again, reconstruct itself,
Carrying a powerless, helpless, desperate soul back into toxic chemical valleys, amid a dark, swirling depression,
Ravaging, drowning, then decaying.

Part II

Yes, growing without roots, with a will that won’t bend,
Weathering life’s storms, which never seem to end.
No longer waiting for the sun that was once promised to arise,
How could truth’s light possibly shine in dimmed eyes?
Having reached with futility for all the high goals of life,
With no spiritual growth, while consumed by inner strife.
Devoid of healing affection, and a stranger to real love,
Unrealistic hope was what my failed dreams were all made of.
Despair meets each day, summer has now changed into fall,
Looking at life, I am totally disgusted by it all.
Dying of loneliness, and holding life by only a thread,
With me rotting inside, hopefully, I soon will be dead.

Pain,
Why?

There is no mystery to me as to why some people choose suicide over recovery.

Since 1987, I have chosen life, and sobriety. Life isn’t always pretty, but I remain personally responsible for my attitudes and behaviors, and I retain freedom of choice in most of my affairs. As a practicing alcoholic and drug addict, and mentally ill human being, I lost all freedom of choice. I have much compassion for those who still struggle with mental illness and alcoholism/drug addiction. Our society has created the perfect conditions for its population to practice insanity and addictive behaviors, but it remains up to us as individuals to create our own perfect conditions for recovery. Self awareness, personal inventory, making amends to all that we have harmed, working a strong spiritual program, mindfulness, meditation, and hanging around like-minded people took me to my own “promised land”.

Nobody can do the work for us, it is a personal journey.

Here is a poem that arose from my healing experience, circa 1987

LOVE’S REUNION
I stumbled over the frozen wilderness for oh, so long!
With a hole in my heart that life could just not fill
Until I stopped to rest, and heard a gentle voice singing a long forgotten song That promised of my release from this winter world of painful chill

Her lyrics spoke of the return of Life to freedom And the release of shivering minds from darkness’ frozen, fearful hands She drew me closer without any further verbal tethers And prepared me for the walk back to Love’s now awakening lands

Her warming presence melted the icy hardness that I used to know Inspiring within me the courage, to myself and my world, to say That, to all of my past memories’ barren trees of lifeless knowledge, I now refuse to go
I will now accept only the lessons learned along Love’s Infinite Way

Yes, she met me while I was with the dark companion But it was to her pleasure to take me home to share her loving lights And give me the shelter of Love’s never setting summer sun
She changed my cold mournings into happier, heavenly nights!

By freely offering of herself and all of her sacred charms She moves me through life’s clamorous valleys unto its silent peaks I can now retire from a life of fruitless wanderings
To live in the Source of Peace of which mankind forever seeks

Her life is resplendent with Wisdom, Strength, and Beauty

For these are the robes with which she clothes her being

The gift of Love now disrobes before my inviting eyes
To reveal her ecstatic vision, which is now all-seeing

My search for Truth and Love Sublime has finally ended For, I now fill my empty cup from her joyous running streams I have reunited with my eternally fulfilling lover
And, her healing waters dissolve all of my painful dreams

I only seek to remain within her all-embracing arms
While through all life she extends her ever unfolding surprise My first waking breath each morning brings the certainty That, from my bed, joined as one, we again shall arise

My broken heart and shattered life is finally mending
And, wedded to her life, I now call her my faithful bride Life no longer has a fearful road ahead to travel
For, One with God, on Love’s lighted path, I now gratefully stride

Please, save yourself.


Bruce

Presently, I am 67 years old, and I am learning how to live the life of a retired person. I am married to Sharon White, a retired hospice nurse, and writer. Whose Death Is It Anyway-A Hospice Nurse Remembers Sharon is a wonderful friend and life partner of nearly 30 years. We have three grandsons through two of Sharon's children. I am not a published writer or poet. My writings are part of my new life in retirement. I have recently created a blog, and I began filling it up with my writings on matters of recovery and spirituality. I saw that my blog contained enough material for a book, so that is now my new intention, to publish a book, if only so that my grandsons can get to know who their grandfather really was, once I am gone. The title for my first book will be: Penetrating The Conspiracy Of Silence, or, How I Lived Beyond My Expiration Date I have since written 7 more books, all of which are now posted on this site. I have no plans to publish any of them, as their material is not of general interest, and would not generate enough income to justify costs. I have taken a deep look at life, and written extensively about it from a unique and rarely communicated perspective. Some of my writing is from 2016 on to the present moment. Other writing covers the time prior to 1987 when I was a boy, then an addict and alcoholic, with my subsequent recovery experience, and search for "Truth". Others are about my more recent experiences around the subjects of death, dying, and transformation, and friends and family having the most challenging of life's experiences. There are also writings derived from my personal involvement with and insight into toxic masculinity, toxic religion, toxic capitalism, and all of their intersections with our leadere. These topics will not be a draw for all people, as such personal and/or cultural toxicities tends to get ignored, overlooked, or "normalized" by those with little time for insight, introspection, or interest in other people's points of view on these troubling issues. There also will be a couple of writings/musings about "GOD", but I try to limit that kind of verbal gymnastics, because it is like chasing a sunbeam with a flashlight. Yes, my books are non-fiction, and are not good reading for anybody seeking to escape and be entertained. Some of the writings are spiritual, philosophical and intellectual in nature, and some descend the depths into the darkest recesses of the human mind. I have included a full cross section of all of my thoughts and feelings. It is a classic "over-share", and I have no shame in doing so. A Master Teacher once spoke to me, and said "no teacher shall effect your salvation, you must work it out for yourself". "Follow new paths of consciousness by letting go of all of the mental concepts and controls of your past". This writing represents my personal work towards that ultimate end.