You will see light in the darkness

you will make some sense of this

and when you’ve made your secret journey

you will find this love you miss…

(The Police: Ghost In The Machine; Secret Journey. 1981)

In an effort to summarise the silence of late I think it best to quote Mr Dave Mathews… and then blog my brains out in a recovery journal recap styley, are you sitting comfortably? good enough, okay, lets go to town…

Since my last post in this ‘ere blog of eternal stench and chutzpah my little life has changed in ways I could never have foreseen, imaged or planned! Utterly profound happenings in what I shall now refer to as ‘Phase 3′ of this ere’ nitwits ongoing voyage of recovery. Ever feel like stuff happens at such an accelerated speed that you struggle to keep up with yourself and your surroundings? Well I’ve been residing there for a wee while, however, things seem to be settling down at last which enables me to reflect and let my experiences spill out into the world… because I’m that important y’see!

My name is Sammy Lee, I am a recovered alcoholic/addict; 1 year, 4 months and 13 days clean and sober, 37 years of existence (not all accounted for) alive and functioning on planet earth to the best of my abilities as a fully fledged grown up, living and loving life… rather than running from it.

In the last few months I have moved on from secondary rehabilitation/dry & drug free supported housing, have started a new full time job as a steel worker, Have moved to London and met a very special lady who incidentally I am now engaged to and living with… oh and I have inherited an utterly awesome little furry dude called Nev as part of the bargain.

So… how the hell did all these shenanigans suddenly come about? Did I really get engaged only months after meeting a girl? How did I meet said girl and is she sober too? How does one go from living in a recovery bubble, fresh faced and emotionally raw to working on a building site in north London as a steel worker? …and what on earth is a Nev?

Everything bad that has happened to me as an adult has been caused somewhat inadvertently by drink or drugs (Nobody’s fault but mine) and everything good that has happened since my rehabilitation has been a direct result of sobriety… There really is no point in dragging out this simple life equation. For some the inevitable relapse looms large, just an itchy mental trigger finger away, where others who seek to live enlightened by a new sense of focus and humility take each day at a time and find reasons to believe, constantly fuelling the sobriety tanks all the while acknowledging sincere gratitude, honesty and compassion for others, including ones self!

It would seem as though, to me personally, living in a raised vibration of sorts, ever optimistic, grateful, humble and honest as one trudges the path amidst a world of testing virtues and vice- is to succeed and allow the best chances at staying clean and sober. But it goes way further than that… of course it does… the practice of these principles in everyday life bring about enlightenment in and around us, just listen to your heart (or gut depending on your poetic stance), do your best and life will probably be better… not best! but better!

So I did all that was recommended and required during my stint in rehab and the months thereafter, it helped to set in stone a new way of living and gave a more sturdy, realistic hope of the future not being a repetition of old behaviours oozing out when the shit hit the fan… the shit is always hitting the fan, so better learn new ways to deal with it, so I did… so much so that five months ago I was asked to go to a secondary school in Caterham and give an Alcoholics Anonymous based talk on the dangers of drugs and alcohol, my story, how it nearly killed me and the various avenues of help available to all, focusing on all the seeds that lead to addiction, to take part in a question/answer with the students and basically tell it as it really is, honest, warts n’ all…

I was fucking terrified…

So much so that the days, nights, hours and minutes leading up to this had me shitting myself and ironically bringing about the triggers of old that would have had me suppin’ from the devils chalice.

I found the experience to have a profound effect on me personally, as a teen I too had one of these ‘drug talks’ at All Hallows secondary in Farnham Surrey, I cast it off as something that would NEVER happen to me, so it wasn’t applicable to my naive self and I sat there instead sketching pictures of Iron Maiden’s mascot Eddie on my school journal trying not to catch Sarah O’Neil or Juliette Farrah’s eyes as it would bring out the ole beetroot complexion curse (wonder why I had no luck with the girls?). As I stood in front of the student gathering, seeing their inquisitive at best, but mostly uninterested faces I saw myself sitting out there amongst them and thought “how did I get here, how did it come to pass that I am here telling this story in a school to these fresh faced nicompoops? It made me really strip away all sense of ego and firstly tell the truth to these kids and then try to offer as best advice as I possibly could, engaging with them on the same level rather than talk ‘at them’ all the while worrying if they think I’m an old twiglet haired has-been, uncool weirdo, old fart trying to fit in get down with the kidz… (I clearly still struggle with self acceptance… conditioning’s a bitch -duly noted!)

Around this time I started feeling a true sense of the domestic jitters, aggravated staleness, an ever encompassing urge to move forward with bigger, braver strides and fully rejoin the rat race away from the recovery safety net of key workers, meetings and supported dry housing! it had served me well and got me to that point but as my sponsor Mr Mcloughenspeil said at the time “when you get rescued from drowning at sea by a life guard helicopter, you stay on it for the duration to get back to shore, then perhaps some recuperation time to gain strength and recover and then its on with the show” there would be no benefit staying longer than necessary in secondary rehab as it serves a double whammy of good and bad, structured recovery, but an increasing institutionalised naivety over a long duration. This obviously differs for everyone and is time specific to each individual journey, but for me it was that tipping point that started to stir in me and I started to get really scared and anxious about taking that next step.

The previous few months I had been reading a book loaned to me by my good friend and soul brother -the debonaire demon of Dublin, Celtic Jedi master Mr Mclouchenspeil called ‘Ask and it is given’ by Ester and Jerry Hicks. After struggling with the concept, I persevered and began to put it into practice, rather than seeking out things I longed for in life, or felt I needed to enable true fulfilment, completion and happiness, I began to put them in ‘my vortex’ and then go about my business, envisioning I already had obtained these ‘things or circumstances’, act in that rhythm and call of the search. Now, here it gets weird… shit started actually happening that shifted the tectonic plates of my very existence, no exaggeration… I was quakin’ all over the shop (the complete opposite to clucking, having now done both- one is considerably better than the other!). Then one sunny morning in April, after a bout of extreme cycling one’s scrawny yet muscular ass off to attend an appointment in town, sweating profusely and wearing ‘unflattering attire’, I randomly crossed paths with a particularly alluring red haired maiden, I plucked up some sober courage and after some awkwardness on my part (and generally looking a right tit) -we got to talking about Lemmy from Motorhead of all things, and how she had hung with him at the Rainbow in L.A a while back… (you’ll need to watch this rather appropriate clip now as an anti vomiting/eyeball rolling yuk device)

Right then, right there I fell, met my soul mate and landed- crash – bang – wallop into my future! Long hilarious, complex and gushy story short, six months later I am now engaged and happily living with this girl… (we got tattooed engagement rings, of course!) She’s a right little hottie (bears a striking resemblance to the boss’s wife Patti Scialfa circa Tunnel of Love era) and a right clever clogs, doesn’t drink, is as weird as me… and likes the same music as me which kinda speaks volumes, I took her to see my beloved spirit animal/life guru Iggy Pop a few months ago… she still wanted to be with me after that… nuff said! She has this wonderful ability that offers calm to the storm of my existence, get my complexities, past and unconventional characteristics… (I’m a loud, energetic, awkward sod who’s not easy to live with) and tolerate my David Lee Roth-ism’s!

The flux capacitor must have been substantially fluxing at this point because time accelerated and I found myself to be working a full on onslaught-on-the-senses job, leaving Transform Housing & Support In Reigate, moving to London and returning to Ireland to visit my dear ole Nan, introducing the new lady to the Don Corleone of our family (Hannah Mary Goddard… me Nanna) and top up on good vibes from the homeland (like a soul tan). I brought my mother and the lady with me and it was truly the best of times, my heart resides over there, nestled in amongst the Cork & Kerry mountains and the Atlantic Ocean… where the pace of life is gentle, the people are friendlier, the air fresher and the scenery breathtaking.

I don’t like to appear smug or gloat in any way as that’s such a naff/bullshit thing to do, I also find it hard to express lovey dovey stuff publicly, but when it has a blog worthy, recovery based importance I feel it necessary to include, as a sign of what can happen and be achieved, but I’ll leave it to a genius of our times to sum up how I feel…

“I try to write about small things. Paper, animals, a house…love is kind of big. I have written a love song, though. In this film, I sing it to a lamp.” David Byrne.

To be continued…

Peace, Love & Hugs,

Sammy x

P.s… this is a Nev