No Matter What

If there's one thing that is the most important element of this whole operation, the glue that is holding this all together, it's staying positive.  That's what's gotten me through the past year and some change, and what will get me from here today to the finish line (am I still talking about the marathon, or about life?).  But sometimes I forget it, and I have to either be reminded, or remind myself.  But I think it's appropriate here to tell the story of just how this all got rolling, and became the centerpiece of my life.  Away we go....

In late 2006, I had developed a bad habit.  I had graduated from college the year before, and entered graduate school with the goal of obtaining my Ph.D within 6 years.  I was driven, I was determined, I was....burning out.  I was in a hopelessly unhealthy relationship, I had become nearly a hermit, and I had no balance in my life.  I spent days in a haze of walking and studying, theorizing and worrying.  I spent nights arguing and/or sleeping in chairs next to hospital beds.  I never allowed myself to find the middle-ground.  Through it all, I carried around a stash of pills to get me through.  I had white ones, blue ones, green ones, pink ones, circular ones, oval ones, uppers and downers.  Simply put, I had become hooked on painkillers and benzodiazepines (look 'em up, you'll recognize a few names).  After continuing the addiction to various degrees of severity, I was ordered into inpatient treatment in May of 2008.  By that time, I had stopped attending classes with any regularity and was barely doing the day-to-day tasks.  My grades fell drastically and I was dismissed from the graduate school via a letter delivered to me in rehab in July. 


I spent three months in rehab, meeting and then befriending people from all walks of life.  I med federal criminals, dealers, fathers, mothers, members and higher-ups of nearly every gang in and out of Chicago, and even a few people just like me.  Actually, they were all just like me, they were addicts.  They we addicts and alcoholics.  They had come to the end of their rope (at least that particular rope) and were thrown in with everyone else like them to try to pick up the pieces for 90 days.  


When I first got into the facility, I was unsure of how I would go about living there and what would happen afterward.  But within the first day, I heard a counselor--a recovering crack addict with 30 years of addiction and 10 years of recovery under his belt--give a speech about being open-minded, about giving this (rehab) a chance in order to give yourself a chance.  For whatever reason, I decided that day to stop being jaded, cynical, and drop the hubris that I had about handling my life.  I decided that I needed help, and that I'd get it in treatment.


The 90 days went by more quickly than I ever thought they would.  I left as the summer was winding down, in August of 2008.  My 6 year relationship was ending, my parents had come to pick me (a now 25-year-old man-child) up, and I was entering a halfway house to make my transition back into sober living.  While at the halfway house, I met some great people--people who had been all but given up on, and were trying to find the strength to make a life for themselves.  I found that even when things were going badly for them, they'd still be there to help anyone who was dealing with addiction and it's accompanying demons.  Every day, as we gathered to pray (in the non-specific, personal way) in the morning, I gained inspiration and wisdom.  Sometimes I wondered how I'd gotten to a place where I felt real, genuine peace.  I realized that through it all, though there were tough times, I stayed positive about what I was trying to do.  I smiled, I breathed, and I kept moving forward.  


So it was fitting that one day, at the job I had managed to get while at the halfway house, I found a rubber band that fit nicely around my wrist.  Many people in the recovery community wore rubber bands, to remind themselves to keep going, to snap when they got a craving, or whatever would help them.  I figured that since I often learn visually, I'd write something on the rubber band to remind myself of what I had to do to make it.  I took a sharpie from under the counter and wrote "PMA" all around it in fat, black letters.  PMA stands for Positive Mental Attitude.  It's a concept that's been around for a while, and I learned of it through my affinity for hardcore punk, and the band "Bad Brains", which had used the phrase many times in their songs.  I figured that of all the things that people had told me about my progress and my good qualities, they referred to my being positive and genuine.  So if I had to attribute my new way of life to anything, it would be to staying positive, no matter what.


Today, I still wear a PMA bracelet.  I have made two of them for others; one for the woman that I plan to spend my life with, and the other to Hakeem, a man I met in the halfway house who taught me the value of hard work and optimism.  Wherever you are, Hakeem, I hope that you're still sober and you still qualify (he'd know what it means).  I have gone through many rubber bands myself, due to stretching, breaking, and fading, but I always make sure to keep one on.  Now more than ever, I have made it a point to stay positive--to do and say things that reflect an attitude of openness, willingness, and honesty, and to give all that I can to whatever I choose to do.  So when I wake up, stretch, and step out the door to run, I do it until I finish, running through any shit that my body wants to give me.  I'd like to say that I have been doing the same with my life in general, but it is not so.  I've been reflecting too much on the repercussions of my past bad decisions, and of the difficulty of the career and life goals that I have set for myself, but I've been failing to give my all and stay positive about what I can do.  So today, while I sat in an office at an employment agency, hoping to get some sort of job to put my head above water, and allow my lady to stop having to worry about money, I got to worrying.  I thought: "what if I can't get over my scholastic and legal indiscretions, and I can't do my life's work?  What if I don't get a fair shake based on my past?"  I almost got overwhelmed yet again, but I quickly caught on to what my mind was doing, and thought: "well, what if I just sit around and worry instead of stop pretending to know the future and put all my effort and passion where it belongs?"  I decided that the latter question was more worth asking.  


I left the office determined, and positive.  There will always be hardships on the path I have chosen, but the only way I can be defeated is if I give up.  Knowing this, I can rest each day, knowing that I have put my all into what I am doing, and that I don't live in the future, I live now.  After all, I can only do what I can do in this moment, that is all I have right now.  I'm pretty sure that I can handle that.


If you've read this far, thanks for doing so, and stay positive.


P.S.  I ran 5k yesterday, although I don't normally run on Thursdays.  I also ran this morning, another 5k.  I beat my time by nearly 30 seconds, brining my time up to 27:29.  The total mileage for this week is 14 miles.  I hope to rack up some more next week, starting with 6 miles on Monday.  Here's hoping!