“Truth is so much more interesting than the fiction we’re used to.” Casey Neistat.

Very much like the end scene in Labyrinth… I often say to myself; “should you need us” as I imagine, while looking in the mirror, seeing all the faces of my past staring back at me like a hauntingly comforting collage.

To my friends back home, before I entered rehab, to those who may feel I’ve neglected due to my sudden and critical life changes, and those I have met and lost along the recovery route- I miss each and every one of you, but I don’t believe in leaving people behind. No matter how lost, false, scatty or utterly shambolic I/we were in the past, no matter if we shared sordid times, indulging in epic bouts of escapism ingestion, spun records to the ‘funky green aroma’, following Alice into wonderland, made a racket together in whama-jam land or innocently traded quotes from Big Trouble In Little China and other 80’s classics over a brew or ‘a few’- it doesn’t mean I have purposely cut myself off or intentionally distanced myself! For that would be both hypocritical and against the very grain of what now fuels my sobriety… My aim- to soberly exercise humility and try to be an all round good bloke with a clear conscience, ego restrained and strapped into the backseat under an ever cautious, watchful yet humble eye.

I’m trying to see the Good in all of the past, no matter how dark my soggy memories depict themselves on the moth eaten projector screen within my noggin’. To complete my 12 step work- exorcising my demons and character defects as best I can, looking for my part in all of it and banishing any traces of blame, regret or ill will towards others. To have the awakening notion of anything bad that ever happened to me, and led to a dim victim portrayal, equate my own part in it, if sometimes only a bit part- or entirely my own doing… (in other words -take ownership no matter what) like the times I was beaten up simply for being a fan of rock music, standing out from the crowd… well, for starters… I was there, I purposely chose to dress different, to express feeling different, and I put myself there, furthermore- I must have assumed a cowardly, prey-like position or instinctively fought back when all could have been ignored!? So I don’t blame anyone else, no matter how wronged I felt at the time. We all have our wars/demons we are battling, and to quote Mr Eckhart Tolle again: (to the soundtrack of Kesha… it just works, okay, go with it!)

“Where there is anger there is always pain underneath.” – Eckhart Tolle: ‘The Power of Now’

So… continued correspondence has suffered as a result of my sober priorities, this has only been a temporary measure to allow time to find myself, and is no reflection of disdain towards anyone what-so-ever; it’s an inside job as they say in AA , and it’s been far more challenging than I could have ever imagined. As my sponsor Mr Mcloughenspiel says: it’s the staying stopped rather than the stopping that is the greatest challenge of sobriety. No matter where you are geographically or in the timeline shenanigans of life itself… true friendship finds a way and I know I have lost touch with many, missing important events, but I am in the process of reaching out and will continue to prioritise friendship and loyalty- as it means so very much to me… this is my current predicament, it bothers me greatly, I must do better… not best, but better! and this I am all too aware of. The silence/separation does not sit well with me, nor will it continue.

So this ‘phase 3’ of my own personal recovery journey… what of it then? it’s time to stop ‘being in’ recovery and banging on about it, having started with a strong and persistent desire… to walk it not just talk it- I’ve now arrived at such milestone destinations: Ireland, family, job, relationship/engagement, domesticity- rent, bills, grey pubic hair, dog walks… being a grown up, time management and the lack thereof, being true to myself, accepting ‘what is’ but not being defined by ‘it’, always looking towards the horizon allowing my vortex to realise itself, not being consumed by the lack of ‘it’ or trudging through the muddy trenches of lower-self mode resonation, not trying to reach/obtain things I feel I need, all the while looking after myself, but not as self focused as I once was… (take a breath Samwise) Because there’s more to life than just me apparently!? Staying in recovery mode would be equivocal to staying in education after graduating, rather than gearing up and going for the job you were training/ learning for… so I guess I’ve graduated, but It wasn’t so easy to start with… it knocked the giblets and stuffing outa me, but with repetition I started to click with a new routine and make good of the necessary sacrifices that had to be made (like moving on from the dry and drug free supported housing where I was living).

“Persistence and endurance will make you omnipotent.” – Casey Neistat.

Knowing when to move on was a fearful acquisition, increasingly feeling too much ease in my recovery bubble, there was a choice to stay (that would have been dishonest) treading water- but resistant and itchy- I began to feel as though I was doing the blitzkrieg bop butterfly in a tranquil shallow swimming pool… I needed to step up, step off and embrace the tapestry of real life, armed with the tools I’d gained and then carry them into battle in a kind of subtle, subliminal utility belt, it was off to graft I go.

Shameless site selfie…yep… guilty but graftin’!

Returning to Ireland with my loved ones taught me so much and showed just how far I had come, spending quality time with my famalamz in the homeland truly meant the world to me and I couldn’t help but thinking at the time; “god, I don’t ‘arf feel related to you lot”… not often one ponders that revelation with a gleeful glow in ones sternum I can tell ya! There’s gold in them hills!

Discipline in routine to do whatever is necessary is key, i.e- getting up early (no later than 5:00 a.m) feeds the importance of purpose… I will always be a dreamer/hippie type ponce, but to graft and earn an honest crust hardens my incentive to stay stopped (sober) and use the gift of life I’ve rediscovered. However -I’m pretty rubbish at dealing with the sentiments of leaving and saying goodbye, So in leaving Transform housing I did my paintings, signs, did that chat with CEO of Transform and have maintained an effort to deliver a promise I made to my dear ole mum: to give back and try to make the hardest of struggles back there (in the death rattle before rehab) seem worthwhile, to go from seeing me at my worst and fearing I would die (her words not mine) to seeing life unfold and bloom- fuelled by a determination and raised vibration.

Not everything is all mr bright side though… I have a issues with social media and communication, I feel it such an intrusion to real life and opens up countless negativity traps and pressures to appear to be ones best, humorous, great looking, socially active self, young, vibrant, ‘subtly’ or ‘accidentally’ sexy, successful and essentially one of the cool kids in the ‘in crowd’, fucking hell man its like being back at school at times …this repulses me if I’m honest- conjuring memories of exclusion and the pain of trying to fit in when quite simply -I didn’t! Who needs that shit, life is challenging enough without all that judgorama (I’m a square peg in a round hole kinda dude and always will be)!

“if you’re doing what everyone else is doing, you’re doing it wrong”… thanks Casey!

Sadly it’s a social normality to my generation now, and I struggle to participate in it if I’m honest, due to my past inebriated experiences and the dire consequences I developed living in the upside down, I abused it like a drink or drug- desperate to portray a persona that was appealing to others and not dying on the inside…an avatar of pretentious fuckable wellness, mysterious, debonaire and… a pathetic try hard fucking nob head. Let’s face it peeps, 90% of facebook, Insta and the like is a bullshit parade- a synthetic portrayal of real life… a black mirror if you like!? (thanks Charlie).

Ever considered broccoli an item of jewellery? Well watch this… you can thank me later, It sums up exactly what I’m banging on about, and is quite possibly one of the best live T.V Iggy Pop performances…

Nowadays I’ve the same enthusiasm and mindset of a 16 year-old me, (not so much the wanking part) wiser with experience and life lessons learnt, from navigating relationship breakdowns to dealing with all manner of clusterfuck situations, what to avoid, how to respond, to not react and generally try and operate on a far better plain. To find my true colour, then bloody well stick to it (to be the real me)! To stay in tune with nature and the spirit of the wild, big picture stuff, not small minded sneaky gratification, but long game perspective- all while doing it one day at a time.

The Demonoid Phenomenon…

The Sex, porn, drugs, booze, dishonesty, vices of old (I call the demonoid phenomenon) have power only because I attached that power to them, as I slithered through lecherous life channels/frequencies of distortion. It could be junk food, vegetating/laziness, gambling, self vanity/self obsession, self loathing/self harming -no matter what the vices they all necessitate to quench a lurid desire, to fill a void in the here and now, in this moment, regardless of consequences… the exact opposite of self harmony!

Try this analogy… so you’re happily in a monogamous relationship with a person whom you are blissfully in love with, life happens… An opportunity presents itself to fantasise being intimate with another person, then this fantasy randomly presents itself in reality, then the thunderous, excitable urge of seduction, to quench that desire and gain instant gratification can strike like an excitable fucking lighting bolt inside… right, it takes self control, moral conduct/firm footed values and an ability to see the bigger picture in an instant. it’s crazy just how this fleeting moment of instantaneous gratification will effect the grand scale of things! Feelings, repercussions, emotional fallout, dread, regret and remorse suddenly eating you up inside, and those you love dearly left devastated and hurting, all because of that sinister urge to feast on the flesh…

Well, this illustrates the relapse, how I feel about a quick fix drink or drug, its the same thing… -a fix! the point is; in order to overcome such heavy urges or lower self motivations in life, no matter how alluringly destructive, yet deliciously satisfying in the moment they can seem- one has to envision the bigger picture, see to the horizon, not just to the end of ones ‘insatiable craving’ …or ‘phallic marriage exterminator’, for that devious desire will pass and you will stand taller, prouder, stronger and spiritually intact… rather than- ashamed, consumed by regret and guilt, spiritually sick and soullessly skew whiff… it takes discipline to enable this but it is key to staying on the right track. None of us are bad people at the core, we have multiple personalities within each of us, always a good and a bad, a selfish and a selfless combination, a higher or lower self… its just about who’s at the steering wheel that gets to navigate which roads we end up going down…

Let me allow Chris and the Crowes to elaborate for a moment…

I believe that there is a collective social consciousness that we are ALL a part of, however some, or perhaps most, are not tuned in to that frequency. Often we jump on other frequencies veering off track, or we create our own frequency that separate us and cut us off from the collective consciousness… I feel it in meetings, in my family (man, I feel so related to them now more than ever before) I feel it at a gig or festival… The bigger picture of all this? We are seemingly very much out of alignment today, take native American attributes/ways of life… it inspires, demonstrates and recognises this necessary natural harmony/truth (of how we belong to the earth not the earth belonging to us), the modern political climate however -does not, social unrest, racial/gender discriminations do not, hierarchical wealth differentiation does not… love Island does not!

This detachment from natural alignment arguably leads us to self medicate or seek lower purpose and self gratification. Just look up people, life isn’t a screen swipe or a bunch of ‘likes’ its far simpler, and actually in each and every one of us to acknowledge or ignore… Perhaps not purposely, but as we digest what current society and media feeds us, we are programmed to consume and detach, always wanting more more more. What if the dude I just saw in a sleeping bag on the street has more spiritual wealth than the top dog atop a swank city block apartment reclining in luxury, who’s the better of the two? Happiness cannot be bought or sought through lower means of satisfaction and instant fixes, it can only be rediscovered, for it’s arguably in us all, buried beneath that thick lime scale like, age appropriate build up of conditioning. A dictated discourse we’ve all been subjected to since our brains and emotions started developing, post womb and sponge like, absorbing all and sundry around us. Conditioning is the key, it can be a blessing or a curse, but it’s all relative to who we are surrounded by, where we live and the social climate in which we are raised… there is no truth, there is only opinion and a pulse…

Or as Gustave Flaubert see’s it –

“There Is No Truth. There Is Only Perception.”

Thats my perception anyways,

Just remember…

These are good times… Damn good times!

Until next time, Stay Frosty y’all!

Peace Luv & hugs

Sammy X

P.s please check out my sponsor and good friend Mr Mcloughanspiel’s new vehicle (book and practice) for a lot of what I’ve discussed above, appropriately demonstrating in depth- the Higher/Lower self analysis!

“If you get the inside right, the outside will fall into place.” Eckhart Tolle.

The Way of Discipline – “THERE IS NO EASY WAY. There is only hard work, late nights, early mornings, practice, rehearsal, repetition, study, sweat, blood, toil, frustration, and discipline. DISCIPLINE.” Jocko Willink.

Discipline is the key to Freedom…

As soon as I started working on site in North London as a steel worker just a few months ago I knew my circumstances were about to drastically change, I felt the paradigm shift and began to prepare for the next phase of the journey. I began thinking of ways in which I could give back and conclude my time at Thorneycroft House with Transform Housing and Support. Then one of many random occurrences led to a flurry of creative activity. I was called into the Transform office (assuming I’d done something wrong or was going to be randomly drug tested/breathalyzed, which was standard proceedure and not at all a problem… kinda used to it now anyways) however, to my delight Lorna Lathey (manager) commissioned me to produce a painting as a leaving present for the CEO, Chief Executive of Transform, Paul Mitchell after 25 years of loyal service. Before this I had been asked to meet with Paul and a guest to give my story and explain how Transform had enabled me to get my life back on track. Apparently this resonated with Paul and he mentioned my story in his leaving speech, which in turn prompted Lorna to commission an appropriate piece of artwork. This really lifted my spirits and was yet another sign/approval nod from the guvnor (make of that what you will). So I got to it and also proceeded to make signs for both the Transform office and the House in which I had been living and now looking to move on from...Check out the story about Paul here…

As I withdrew from group meetings at the house I felt a natural distancing between myself an my fellow inmates, every Monday and Friday morning we all sat in a routine group catch up meeting, going around the room discussing where each of us were at in our recovery and any issues, niggles or kerfuffles that we wished to raise. Naturally there were times when we’d rather not participate in this but overall, I found it to be an integral part of being there and under the Transform housing umbrella. It became a part of weekly life and I looked forward engaging with my homies, not only did it bring us extremely close together, it enabled each of us to offer help and support to one-another regarding any life strife we were going through, discussing deep subjects in an honest and sometimes traumatic yet healthy way. With each of us a different stages of addiction recovery, living together under the same roof it was not always easy but… to sum up it brought about a true union of sorts and a camaraderie that I certainly benefitted from and will carry with me for the rest of my days, I am truly grateful and indebted to the staff and my fellow inmates, without which I would not be where I am today. My sobriety has gained such a deep rooted, concrete foundation and its all thanks to the loveliest people I am blessed to have spent over a year living with.

I strongly recommend to anyone in a similar position as I was (homeless, new in recovery, a wealth of financial debt/admin confusion and a detemination to rebuild my life in a disciplined yet supportive environment), to contact Transform Housing & Support and enquire about getting on board, it truly gave me my life back and pathed the way for today to be a better day!

www.transformhousing.org.uk

This one time, at band camp… the high sheriff of Surrey paid us stray cats a visit…

I really could write essays on Transform Housing & Support and how it helped me, but there were many other affiliations, services and groups that assisted and guided me along the way over the past year and a half- (ever read the liner notes on album covers… well here goes) abundant gratitude and huge hugs go out to the following leg ends; Emma and all at Redhill Richmond Fellowship, Sir Tim Mufaswa and all at i-access drug and alcohol services Guildford, Avril and Gary at i-access Redhill, Jo at Catalyst Counselling, Dr Laura Dando at Southlea Surgery Group Practice Aldershot -for getting the ball rolling and having the sympathetic, non-judgmental compassion- that first enabled myself to open up and be honest about how bad things were… without you doc, I would most likely be dead! Karen Sweet at Talk Plus who compassionately endured my ramblings and taught me that honesty is freedom. Colin Thiede Lowe, Lorna Mooney, Dave Myers recovery counsellor and my spiritual brother big John Phipps at CRI HOMER Drug & Alcohol services Alexandra House Aldershot- incidentally where this whole recovery journey started back in 2014, The lovely Rosy May at C.D.A Redhill for helping me out of the black, all at St Mathews Church Redhill food bank for feeding me when I had nowt, S.M.A.R.T meetings, AA, CA, NA fellowships of Reigate, Redhill, Farnham, Radha Buttar who fixed my teeth in Leatherhead, all my heroes at Windmill House specialist rehabilitation unit, St Peters Hospital Chertsey and the superstar A-team at Transform Housing & Support- Paul, Lorna, Sophie 1, Sophie 2, Nick, Marissa, Bev, Rea, Lucy and jack, each one of you is a true rockstar in my book! And to all the other fabulous people who’s compassion, understanding and time to both listen and help has not only saved me from myself, allowed a way out of the mess I was in, but has saved countless other lives, giving hope and that all so rare chance at finding peace, happiness and a renewed place in society once again.

There has unfortunately (or some would argue -inevitably) been bouts of terrible sadness along the way, losing some of my fellow recovery gang to the dis-ease of addiction is all the more tragic when the people in question wanted and longed for a way out and yet lost their grip and fell back in… big Mark, American Annie, Epsom greeter Stephanie and dear old Bill next door, to name but a few;

And to my comrades who are back out there in the chaos of relapse, I know the hell that grips you, help is always at hand brothers and sisters and I will be here for each and every one of you if I can help in any way.

“Under a sky, no one sees,

Waiting, watching it happening.

Don’t hurry, give it time,

Things are the way they have to be.

Slow down, give it time,

Still life, you know i’m listening.

The moment that you want is coming if you give it time”

Please contact me, I will not ignore you, the only way this whole recovery thing works is to give back what we once received. No-one can do this by themselves, but with help and support, advice and guidance anyone can climb out of the pit I was once in…

sammylee2003@hotmail.com

All the above avenues can and will offer help, please don’t feel trapped, alone or ashamed, your life is worth it and there will be people around you; family, friends, pets, a record collection, a guitar or a life waiting to be lived – who will thank you for seeking help! I speak from experience here.

And to my brothers and sisters who are getting well alongside me, from rehab to the here and now, we all know- it’s a journey we shall forever be on, sometimes rewarding sometimes -a white knuckle ride/fight and battle of the wills, but let’s be on that voyage together, as together we are stronger and together we got well!

One day at a time I am recovered, but I am always going to be an alcoholic/drug addict and this knowledge and awareness keeps me clean, sober and somewhat sane today. For the rest of my life I will do my upmost to help those in need, those battling that motherfucking monkey on their back, my life actually depends on it as I am sure does many out there in the midst of the madness.

So what’s the deal with the title then? well… I considered Discipline a dirty word once upon a time, it stinks of authority and so I would much rather rebel than comply, but with clarity and elbow grease I woke to the revelation that the harder you work, the bigger the reward! and I’m not talking about financial or material gain here, I mean, simply put; if you want something really badly, then the likelihood is that you will do anything to get it… you would work hard for it right? Well after those rock bottom fall outs that consumed the ground beneath my feet I desperately wanted out of that hell and the ONLY way is through discipline, nothing is easy that’s worthwhile, I worked for my sobriety, I would go to any lengths to score or get a drink so why wouldn’t I repeat that ethical reality striving for freedom from that hellish place where I was drinking and fixing just to maintain some kind of wellness… to look/appear ‘normal’ and functioning to all around me, hiding a painful bottomless pit within that I could not stop filling with poison.

My advice: Find incentive, find purpose, find passion, find distraction from that fucking monkey on your back and power on through the cravings with communication, honesty, openness and try to search out a little spirituality, whether that’s in nature, a book, a church, music or even a fucking pet gerbil… it can be sought however way you see fit!

Just please don’t be hurtin’ no gerbils…!

I did all the above, but instead of a gerbil I got a Nev and a custard addiction… seriously though- my music was my salvation and being creative was my distraction, whenever I started to crave, or a trigger scenario knocked me off my logical perch and I felt that slide down to relapse territory start, I would have to immediately go out for a run, it didn’t matter what time of day or night, it didn’t matter where I was, it didn’t matter what the weather… to me it was a quick burst of adrenaline to push back the craving/urges and then some kind of serenity would be restored… this works in different ways for everyone, but for me this works, and I still operate like this madman, but a sober one to boot! Another tip: avoid drama… drama is the enemy, people who court drama and thrive upon it are not going to assist in the serenity search, but in time it will be these very dramatarians who will benefit from your serene, disciplined qualities. Again this is said through the still focussing lens of experience.

‘The past can’t haunt me, if I don’t let it.’

A CHOOOOOOON that came out as I was going in… I fucking love Kesha… Surprise!!!! (what rock credibility?) her album Rainbow is a really honest, uplifting and apt soundtrack for me, I run to it to this day and surprise, surprise it’s kinda symbolic now, go find your anthem and then dance like your on the lip of a volcano to it.

To be continued.

Peace Luv & Hugz y’all…

Sammy x

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

I’m not looking back

But I want to look around me now

Time stands still

See more of the people

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Today is a milestone day, a day I have pondered every day for three hundred and sixty five days, one day at a time…

I am one year clean and sober.

But is it tempting fate, or gloating to celebrate such an ‘anniversary’?

Or, is it important to mark the event with some kind of acknowledgement…? I’m not so sure, I guess I would rather salute it with a humble nod and go about my business as just another day, grateful in the knowledge that life is no longer a juggling of demons and escape routes, rather than sing my own praises.

As I see it; that devil’s still very much right outside my door, if I slacken off and leave that door unknowingly ajar then I risk a year’s worth of struggle, effort and hardwon sobriety… So I think I shall settle for a few words to mark the occasion. The locks are stronger and the door is substantially thicker, but as I’ve come to realise; it’s a cunning fucker that awaits its prey to fall fowl to old behaviours, character defects, weaknesses and the ever imminent trigger scenario, finger hovering above the dreaded fuck it button.

I do not exactly feel ‘proud’ of this achievement, rather, I feel grateful, grounded and more guided, overwhelmed by humility and gratitude that I am here, now living life to the best of my abilities, sanity somewhat intact and no more skeletons in the warped wardrobe/closet of sin. No longer governed by fear and less likely to engage in negativity and opinions of others, to offer help where it is needed and to seek out the selfless path of altruism in any given scenario… not to seek a sainthood and fly a cringeworthy flag of martyrdom, but to seek continued sobriety and serenity… however… These are not very easy operatives.

There are people whom I feel I have not yet fully reconnected with, people who mean so very much to me, people whom I hurt considerably while stumbling in the upside down turbulence haze, people who endured my erratic, confusing and seemingly cruel behaviour… people I am beyond grateful to have blessed my life, with their unrelenting friendship and the storms I brought upon them, to which they weathered… I will address this in a deserving later post, but these people whom are dear to my heart I shall endeavour to reconnect with and be there for -amidst a healthier future. There is nothing more priceless than friendship and the underlying love at its core, for that I will be loyally and eternally grateful for!

Before June 13th 2017, my life was cosmically a shambles (to quote David St Hubbins… patron saint of quality footwear) I was killing myself to live:

It’s not easy to weather life’s inevitable pains and misfortunes against the grain of soul consuming addictions, but it’s a darn sight more manageable with a clear head and a programme there at any given time to offer guidance, compassion or community. That sense of belonging to an understanding congregation that was so lost on me before, to the outside world of ‘normal Norman’s’ this new found community is seemingly made up of lost boys and girls, misguided misfits, decrepit alcoholic/junkie troubadours and god bothering bible bashing do-gooder types and typeenoes! …and yes, while there are certainly the cliched fraternity nestled amongst the jilted and jaded disciples of despair -there are also the winners, those who inspire just by being in attendance and can turn a suicidal-Susan into a Susan-perb visionary just by recounting their story, their hope and strength in recovery, and ultimately inspire through resonating identification of how they too were once flirting with death as a preferred outcome, rather than a haphazard, accidental conclusion to a dead end street, lined with scepticism, self loathing and disapproval. It’s all there to be sought in the fellowships, and I have discovered this to be a fundamental ingredient to arriving at the ass end of a full year in sobriety.

To thine own self be true…

I am here with an AA year coin/chip in my pocket and a looooong bizarre year under my belt, simply because I still feel now how I did a year ago: determined, dedicated, and -the most vital ingredient for a successful recovery- I wanted it for myself, not for anyone else and not a half arsed attempt, knowing full well in the back of my once bamboozled brain box that I would be able to sneak a drink if shit got ‘that bad’ again… it was always an option, right!?!

But no…

Not this dude, not this time, no fucking way am I going back to that fucking hellish place of lies, betrayals and decrepitude! This time I wanted it and that motivation has served me well through some testing, turbulent times this past year, through the biggest life changes I think I can ever remember making, and not once relying on a sneaky glug of Dutch courage, sordid sniff of putrid powders or a toxic toke of whacky backy wind downs! In other words; facing shit rather than running away from it… and documenting the fight via shameless sweaty selfies with Pantera chugging in me lug olezzz. (R.I.P Vinnie Paul you tub phumpin’ power house)

Doing life on life’s terms free from addiction, managing my own thoughts, feelings and behaviours, knowing full well they are just that- my own, no one else to be held accountable or be blamed for my dastardly doings any more, if one fucks up, own it …no matter what the outcome, by living an honest, simple existence in life terms the potential for drama or ill will/feeling is diminished to such an extent that one wonders what all the fucking fuss and running away was all about in the first place.

I don’t pretend to be who I am not any more and surprisingly people seem to tolerate my eccentricities, peculiarities and warped fashion senses, maybe not the music taste particularly, but I am not going to tame any of that shit down just because society tells me David Lee Roth is cheesy and dresses like their mum did in the eighties…

No no, I own it even more because that was one of my main problem areas, not being able to feel comfortable in my own skin, I was who I was, a cheesy, uncool, hair metal loving, John Hughes movie quoting romantic, awkward, overly sensitive dweeb with a obscure/shite sense of humour but a cunning ability to enthuse, engage, make myself chuckle and a pretty saucy knack for rocking the fuck out and dancing to my own beats, I simply felt as though I wasn’t allowed or able to live life on my own terms, and that I was forever an embarrassment to others as well as to myself, trapped in a body I hated, liking things everybody around me hated and liking girls who seemed to only notice me if I did something embarrassing …like breathing!

That is how I felt and how I came to rely on chemistry to alter my vision and senses, becoming pop-eye after a can of spinach or the man of peel himself; Bananaman after… a banana! That’s how it started anyway! Then the claws got stuck in and I was no longer Eric who had a narna to transform himself when necessary, I became a lame, saggy pantaloon’d vermin magnet with a limp, blackening mushy banana drip fix, constantly drying up and never quite delivering the flextastic goods, only becoming noticeable when the next fix was needed… a mind and body so accustomed to poison fuel that it refused to function without it and that girls and boys darn well nearly turned out the lights for ole Sambone.

Imagine banana man dying from a banana overdose… he knew his fruity limits and never did that annoyingly typical, and sometimes fateful alcoholic act of “just one more” because that ‘just one more’ drink, line, smoke, pin never stops when your in the addictions grasp and that tit known as tolerance deceives you in the end, ever strengthening the effects until one is so weak and used up that the only buzz one can cop is that inevitable death rattle outa here and then all you got is a really shit looking corpse that some poor long suffering affiliates having to dispose of with some kind of ceremonious charade, pretending it was such a loss to everyone… when really it was more than likely a huge relief.

So onwards it is, with no airs or graces, living life on my own newly disciplined terms and no longer in it for myself, because there really is strength in numbers and as a community, funnily enough something I strongly feel we; as a society -have lost in recent times of brexit’d trumpism’s, false digital avatars, social media platforms/’friendships’ and all that shiz… no one needs to repeatedly bear witness to what you had for dinner or those really realistic painted on fucking eyebrows!

Whatever fellowship or tribe you feel aligned to, your street, your church, your family, your goonies gang or band, swingers group or birdwatching enthusiasts -the problems shared and laid bare are so much easier to overcome and stay focused in and through as part of a community. We can’t argue with history, but we can surely balk and question modernity and so called ‘progress’, look back and see how simpler times arguably meant stronger values. Can you imagine soldiers taking selfies in the trenches of world war 1 & 2!!!? Great googlely moogely!!! But then again- can you imagine a dweeb blogging about recovery from addictions while others ran for their lives to the sound of air raid sirens… we are all guilty of getting swept up in the falsification of these digitally divisive times and their supposedly progressive avenues.

Fuck man, I’m getting old, and the future sure ain’t what it used to be… I didn’t sober up to be bitched at because I was apparently online when you messaged me and I failed to reply immediately… forgive thee for I was busy living a life I had neglected for so so long… but therein lies my contradiction – I still get angry and I can still be a selfish tit… just don’t message me that, tell it me to my face or speak it in my ear hole, but do speak up as I am frightfully deaf in the post apocalyptic ballet!

So where the feck was I? Oh yeah, so today I got my sobriety and I’m not ashamed of it, nor do I take it for granted, always aware of protecting it and avoiding the pitfalls of my past that lead me to stray from the abstinent route I now know to be my only route! I have my family and close friends (both newfound and long suffering) my awesome Jedi like sponsor, I have my beloved cheesy music, David lee Roth and my creative endeavours that give me that buzz I recall from pre-problem times… and I’m a happy dude! So as long as I keep aligned, guided and disciplined to my program and never exceed my capabilities, I hope I’m gonna be around boring whomever is reading my ramblings for many a year to come.

Life is fucking awesome, and when it’s not… (which it regularly isn’t) it’s still a darn sight better than when there was two of everything, and I had to squint and cover one eye just to see… today I am grateful for everything (even the bemoaning on social media) and I’m truly so very lucky to have this chance and I would be a complete fucking numpty to go and (as my sponsor Would say) bollocks this up, so I’m kinda not gonna go do that… for ever… one day at a time.

If you want something bad enough and put in the effort/work needed to achieve or obtain it, the odds are very much in your favour… it’s the law of attraction, ask and it is given, keep sluggin’ it out until results start landing like bolts of lightning, then slug even harder because absolutely nothing is a given unless you give it traction, through body and mind alignment, through blood, sweat and tears… this past year I have cried, bled and sweat profusely… one slug at a time, one day at a time.

And things are starting to come into bloom again after a long hard slog, the future is looking really rather ruddy good…

Peace, luv & hugz y’all,

Sammy x

I cannot go through this again, nor should you.

Faffing over what to write is creative redundancy for me… so fuck it > here goes an honest attempt at just blogging my brains out with no plan…

My intention here with all this is to create honest posts detailing parts of my story that I know will resonate with others, and if it helps anyone, then that is all I seek to accomplish!

There is no celebration in decay, it’s nothing to be remotely proud of, but there IS celebration in recovery and the intelligence harvested from the experiences. To free ones self from the cage of addiction is to fuel up on honesty, humility and compassion for others, lack of self to an extent, but an ever cautious eye on the ball, for if we are to let go of new found clarity- we can be seduced back to old thinking and behaviours… which for me will not end well. A lesson, not so much learned, more face planted by a survival necessity and a last chance saloon serving only bitch slaps of “told you so’s” and a complete loss of self.

I didn’t know who I was anymore… and so held up my hands in total submission and screamed through blood and tears “I cannot go through this again”

As Rumi quoted; “The wound is the place where the light enters you”

From that final moment of defeat a dim but definite light bulb went on inside me… but the light took a long time to shine… I would be committed to getting sober and clean once and for all from that moment, and would set about making plans in which to do so… but the addiction was still running the show, and so began the battle, I fought this fucker right up to an epiphany moment that shakes me to my core and I feel ugly even to remember. Seeing the look in my younger brothers eyes as I cowered pathetically on my hands and knees before him begging for redemption and seeing the pain My addictions were causing my family, the people I loved. I relapsed countless times before this, but was not fully ready, able or wanting to change and do what is needed until I was already awaiting a room in a rehabilitation centre… and that rock bottom awoke the innocent, inner child in me, the ambitious, sensitive, yet outgoing dude I had buried within my older self and a skew whiff life on my own terms.

After a life altering collapse of a long relationship I started intentionally and profoundly self medicating, numbing emotional pain that I’d been carrying since my brain started logging life. I had been using drugs and alcohol since I was 18 but never thought myself in trouble, let alone an addict, but here at 31 years old, after a cocaine induced minor heart attack, I realised – I’m an addict! Then came the textbook chemical progression and subsequent dependency. Cocaine and pills enabled me to be me without the annoying distraction of low self esteem and all the trimmings that go along with that ole chestnut. Psychedelics helped me to elevate to places and states that challenged even the simplest of beliefs and fuel my imagination (or simply give it a playground in which to run riot for seemingly life-long trips), marijuana helped me relax, Jam, write, even assisted sexual shenanigans, and alcohol was abundant in everything, always there to wash what ever else down and keep me functioning free from fear and fatigue. Of course this diet was a yo-yo affair and quickly had the opposite effect I was seeking, only making me more anxiety ridden, depressed and physically sick. This pushed my intake and the more I consumed, the lesser I felt the effect, and so began that age old vicious cycle, where the drugs and booze end up using you until you belong to them… because they no longer work, right!? You don’t cop a buzz no more, you use to level out and maintain. I was unable to function without it all. The teeth were in and the mark had been made…

Life had to go on though, and as I trudged through it like a false, cocky, arrogant, angry, decrepit feeble tosser… I stacked up resentments, enemies and above all else- I really hurt people I truly cared about, and so began the whimpering apology machine, sluggish gears grinding away losing bits of myself every pain staking, wobbling step I took…

Then I found heroin and everything went away… the day the world went away.

Like a long lost warm, cosy embrace from a lover wrapping her arms around you, seductively sinking her delicious sickly teeth in, feeling both familiarity and nothing at all… escape. My life was such a fucking disgrace by this point this enabled me to turn out the lights, where usually I’d drink and use to black out in (dis)order to reach this state of escape, the false plane of ignorant, blissful, unawareness, now I had found the ultimate trip switch.

As said previously, I will try to document the stages of my addiction and the ways in which I sought and attained help/recovery, but for now this is a brief overview of when,where, how and why I; Sammy Lee, am an alcoholic – addict.

As a result of an arguably compassionate intervention by two ex girlfriends, I admitted myself to CRI HOMER addiction recovery centre at Alexandra House in Aldershot (now called Inclusion drug and alcohol services) and was able to stop using through an abstinence based care plan. (Colin Thied Lowe & Big John Phipps x) Having now gone to that place where you know your now more than flirting with death but the urge to get numb is all that matters, if death comes then so be it, I was scared but not scared of dying. I now struggle to understand this mentality, but alas; the mind of an addict is not exactly a hive for common sense, and I was not really living anyway…

https://www.inclusion.org/services/inclusion-aldershot/

To cut through my trying to sound clever and tell a typically ego invigorating story, I basically switched substances and embraced alcohol as much as I physically could, it worked, I missed the drugs, but was happy in the bottle and felt no real severe repercussions health wise. I felt as though I’d dodged that bullet of dying with a needle in my arm… I hadn’t used intravenously up to this point, and now I was substituting- just shifting poison tracks, but these were more socially acceptable, and better still- I had stopped using, so I was proud, and in a false bubble of having bettered myself… this was my biggest mistake…

Alcohol for me was the worst addiction… it’s a cunning fucker that creeps into you via socially acceptable means and years of ‘fun booze fuelled shenanigans to be reminiscently relived again and again… and if given the correct conditions -will take you to the depths of your soul. Make no mistake… alcohol IS a drug! addiction IS a disease (dis- ease) and those of us prone to it, given the chance, will encounter a problem of some kind, awareness is so minimal a thing to have and yet life saving if and when needed.

For myself, the rest is a concluding blur of bouncing around trying to meekly survive, in my state I excelled at making things beyond difficult and just kept fuelling the desire to escape, booze was my buddy and I refused to function without it, but as the drinking increased I began using again, after… you guessed it relationship drama, (to put it mildly) rejection and then having been understandably fired from my last job, for being ignorantly ‘on my own clock’, fucked up and unable to function what-so-ever. I was thereafter kamikaze falling with nothing left in the tank. Life had truly become unmanageable and I was rotting inside… yet my mask was relatively able and ready to act out and be merry Sammy to all who met me, between drunk, shitfaced and blackout was my window for social interaction… it was all a consistent topping up in any way to keep the withdrawals away and function somewhat, either to steal, score or scrounge the next fix.

Inevitably, another overdose brought me to hospital… again, but this time was told I most likely would not be back and that my body was dying, which was why I was bleeding out so bad. Interesting to know with addiction, you decompose before you die, as opposed to nature’s preferred way.

Tired of being sick and tired, life had become impossible, boring would be fun, no, life was utter madness and I was now so unwell I couldn’t function anymore, desperate to prevent seizures and actually get the poison in me I would try and recycle alcohol by puking into a bowl with a sieve and filter out the alcohol, drink and repeat until it stayed down… coughing and shitting blood, not eating, stealing anything to fix up, couldn’t remember where I left my conscience but survival was killing myself to live now, withdrawals were always a few lines or drinks away so I had to keep that fucker away, having had numerous seizures and hellish hallucinations along with all the usual shakes, sweats, sickness, insomnia and psychological torment… during this time I had been using needles and it was at this point I truly didn’t care anymore, this world was better without me draining its resources and all that self deprecating bollocks one tells themselves when simply in need of help… the best way to sum up where my head was at during one of many rock bottom’s is actually from a rather pathetic suicide note I scribbled (I had attempted suicide numerous times with varying outcomes, routinely self harming fuelled by pitiful self loathe and an inability to cope with the madness… It was all bollocks, if I had wanted out I’d have done it proper… more likely a cry for help, memory is foggy here though!)

“It will be easier to die right now, tonight, than to keep living like this, than to wake up and deal with the shit I’ve created/caused yet again, I’d prefer it… its a better outcome for everyone… I’m not scared, I’m exhausted and trapped”

I don’t see my handwriting as me, when I read the scribbles that person wrote in those moments of depravity, I only see that everything is a cry for help in a fog of fear, confusion and an overwhelming inability to cope.

The dilemma of addiction is the inability to be honest… I had cried wolf in the past so many times, and by now most of my long term friends had understandably given up on me, or at least distanced themselves. Everything I did and said was a lie, but whatever it was that made me admit defeat and hoist my feeble white flag, remains clouded because I was no longer there.

This is where a belief in a higher power hauntingly and questionably bleeds into my story, (I’ll delve into that honey pot next blog) for it was through random events and the compassion of people I had either used and treated so disgustingly, or whom did not even know me, and yet I was pulled from this pit of decay by them and began my climb up this ladder of recovery… which is ongoing and ever testing, but worthwhile beyond any words can express.

My mother Patricia is the one person on this planet I look at now and see the very best a person can be, she too is a survivor for less selfish reasons, and she didn’t deserve to see her son end up the way I was… today my mother has her son back and I will never again gamble with her happiness as I was once doing so destructively, for this remarkable woman gave me life and for that I am now, at long last -grateful for. She is my inspiration and my reason to believe, and this fuels my recovery, but doesn’t define it, for that is my decision -to stay well and maintain the disciplinary effort to keep doing so, one day at a time.

The ladder out of my personal addiction hell was implemented by i-access drug and alcohol services, Guildford, through referral from a very compassionate and understanding G.P; Dr Laura Dando at Southlea Practice Aldershot/Farnham. This put me in an abstinence preparation program leading to admission for full detox and substance addiction treatment at Windmill House rehabilitation facility. Following rehab I entered into the Transform housing and support program, which is a recovery facility for people after rehabilitation, (kinda like a secondary, more easy going rehab) living in a staff run dry house with 7 others, all recovering addicts of varying degrees, and all such lovely dudes and dudey’s. I am now, as of today: 7 months and 17 days clean and sober, still at Transform Reigate, my life is back and my mum is proud of her son again, Rome weren’t built in a day… but the foundations are being laid in a Maslow fashion this time, learning to live a straight life with a crooked mind.

http://www.surreydrugandalcohol.com/

To accomplish recovery you need to want to do it for yourself and not for anyone else… contrary to popular opinion one does not need to hit rock bottom to seek it… I seemed to be rolling down a spiral staircase of rock bottom’s that lost me everything but it needn’t be that drastic, you will know if the curtains are pertinently drawn and the soul submerged. The vital ingredients are honesty, humility and compassion to maintain it, thereafter all’s ya gotta do is get to a meeting and keep coming back folks.

http://www.surreydrugandalcohol.com/windmill-house

For anyone suffering or concerned about another- please contact one of the many links posted here and take that first step, it’s the hardest but the most rewarding step you will take to throwing those curtains wide open motherfuckers and embracing a light at the end of that dark tunnel that no one need be suffering and lost within.

https://www.transformhousing.org.uk/

Peace, luv and hugz

Sammy x

Musical side note:

As with most things in life, music has been a soundtrack through some of the darker times, for better or worse. As a result there are songs or albums I can’t listen to now because they have the power of taking me back to those dark places.

BUT…

The music of Nine Inch Nails has been a source of constant inspiration, incite and emotional release for me at ALL times (among many others obvzzzz) but the association of Trent Reznor’s music to this blog is undeniably appropriate and ultimately inspiring to anyone suffering addiction. NIN’s albums arguably document Reznors own experiences of addiction and the dark places one goes, both in it and looking back. Although the downward spiral’s song ‘Hurt’ is the more ‘known’ NIN song about addiction, however, the album ‘With Teeth’ is a biographical depiction of Trent’s then new found sobriety, and the regret and inevitably uncomfortable raw emotions brought about by his own recovery. It’s violent, sonically abrasive, self deprecating and yet soothingly beautiful in equal measures! Leaving no stone unturned! It helped me immeasurably over the past year and now has a place in my fragile soul. I will go as far as saying I think Trent Reznor is a musical genius and if you’ve not been lucky enough to of heard of him… Everything’s. Going . To. Be. Okay!

Go check it… x