coping with emotions.

Addicts don't just use drugs because they like the effects of them, they use them to cope with emotional and mental disorders that have swallowed them so deeply that they know no other way to escape.  However the satisfaction from chemical substances is only a temporary relief.  In fact, with or without realizing it, drugs only dig a deeper hole.  The hardest part of recovery hasn't been to get off drugs, to get a job, to get into school - the hardest part has been to cope with emotions without the use of drugs and to regain interest in things and activities that once made me happy before drugs took control of my life.  Recently I have made decisions that I did not want to make, but knew that they were the right decisions to make.  It isn't easy to ignore the ignorant, insensitive and just plain stupid comments that I get from people.  Then again, I have to remind myself that they just don't get it.  I am making these decisions to better my life; to grow the hell up; and to achieve the goals I set for myself years back.  When I was 15 years old I never expected to be where I am now.  Honestly, 15 year old me would be disgusted with 25 year old me.  One thing I have learned is that I don't always have to be everywhere I want to be and do everything that I want to do in order to be happy.  When someone tells me that I'm missing out, chances are I'm not missing out - because a month from now it will be forgotten, life will have moved on, and there's always next time.  I have grown to understand that I need to weed out the people in my life that make me feel bad and bring me down, whether they do it intentionally or unintentionally.  If they aren't on team Hannah, they can get the fuck out.  Anybody who makes me question my decisions to better my life will no longer be a part of my life - it's that simple.  I feel sorry for the person who tries to make any recovering addict feel bad for deciding to skip out on a drug infested party weekend.  Does that person honestly think that I don't know what kind of fun I'm going to be missing? Hello, that life used to BE my life and chances are I have partied harder than that person ever could even if they tried with everything they have inside of them.  I am well aware of what fun is and how to have it, so thank you for your reminder but you can politely shove it up your ass.  I don't think I've become "lame", "boring" or whatever else opinions have been made of my recent self, but I do think I've become responsible, matured, and self sufficient.  The choices I made in my past landed me where I am today, and repeating the same mistakes more than once makes me a fool.  I have been a fool for a very long time, so now I am trying something different.  Of course I want to be in Philadelphia this weekend raging with friends and my favorite band, but the consequences of that could cause for a major set back in my life, once again.  I know that may seem extreme, but given the fragile and vulnerable state that I am in, that is the truth of the situation.  There will be hundreds of other opportunities in my future to have the same fun that I am "missing out on" this weekend, and maybe then I will be in a better position to engage in said activities.  I really should not have to explain myself, but I think it's important for people to understand why myself, and other addicts, make the "strange" choices that we make when we get clean.  To be honest, they aren't "strange", they just seem that way because they are so out of our norm.  It isn't because we no longer like to have fun, it's because we are so desperate to build our lives back up that we are not willing to take any chances that may get in the way of that.

By pushing through the bullshit and doing the right thing in just a little over 2 months I have bought myself a brand new car, got accepted into a 4 year nursing program and I have rebuilt relationships with my family.  In 2-3 years when I'm in the midst of buying my own house, building my career, starting a family, and still doing all my beloved extracurricular activities including music festivals, concerts, traveling and skiing  with the financial means to do so I will be sure to remind you of all that you're missing out on.

flirting with hell.

we live in the darkest world

we are numb to the light 

but all we feel is tingling warmth 

it's the most bittersweet pain

you'd have to see it to believe it

but i'd never wish this life upon you

it's a life in the fast lane 

dancin around on the poisonous land 

we sing and play to the devil's waltz

and i'm just sittin here flirtin with hell.

lesh.

my dog is ridin' gun.

i can honestly and safely say that this dog has gotten me through more hard times, and good times, than any human ever has and quite possibly ever will get me through. i got him in stowe, vermont a week after i moved there. i knew only a couple of people and i didn't have any real plan set in front of me before i moved out there. all i knew is that i needed to LEAVE rochester, so i did. after settling in, loneliness shined its light on me. so i went on the hunt for a k9 companion, and by the grace of god craigslist pulled through. that's right, my $2,000 breed of a dog found its forever home through a craigslist ad. the breeder had originally intended to keep him, but 8 weeks after he was born the breeder's wife became pregnant so they decided it wasn't the right time to raise a puppy. they asked for no money for him; they just wanted to make sure he was going to a good home.

lesh and i instantly became connected by the hip. he is the biggest mama's boy i have ever met. seriously, he won't take 3 steps in front of me without looking back to make sure i'm still there. he snuggles underneath the covers right next to me every night. we share peanut butter out of the same jar with the same spoon (true story). we are OG homies - nobody messes with him, and nobody messes with me. after 6 months of living in vermont, we packed our shit and moved to salt lake city, utah for the remainder of the ski season.

the entire 30+ hour drive out there lesh sat in the front seat with his chin (or chins i should say) rested on the dash board; best. copilot. EVER. june of 2012 we once again moved, but this time we moved back home to rochester. worst. decision. EVER. my life quickly turned to coal. physically, mentally and emotionally i was not fit to be the mom lesh needed. i could start to sense his feeling of abandonment. it broke my heart. watching him suffer, so helplessly and innocently, is probably one of the biggest factors that motivated me to change and turn my life around. i promised him a good, happy doggy life, and i was gonna be damned if i couldn't provide that for him. so a year after we moved back to rochester, i made the decision to leave him with my mom for a month while i went to rehab.

when i came home i had never seen him so happy to see me, but rehab didn't work. everything quickly spiraled out of control again, and nothing had changed, it just got worse. i knew i had to do something different this time, i had to not only change my environment, but i had to change my mind set. i had to get out of my comfort zone. i uprooted us once again and made a life for us in michigan. best. decision. EVER. i got clean. i got my soul back. i got myself back. lesh and i got close again. he has his mommy back. on my bad days when i feel worthless, he gives me assurance that no matter what, i DO have a purpose. i am a mommy. he may not be human, but never in my life before have i ever felt so much love and responsibility for another living creature.

a dog really is a man's (woman's) best friend. lesh has never judged me, he has never abandoned me, he has never stopped loving me. in fact, all he does is love me, and all he asks for in return is the same love. that isn't so much to ask for. i don't care if he eats batteries, runs into walls, walks with his eyes closed, sleeps sitting up, busts screen windows out, hangs out on 2nd story roofs, has the fire department called on him, runs in his sleep, sleeps with his ass on my head, farts so loud he scares himself... hands down he is the weirdest little man to roam the earth, but he has so much heart that any human would be lucky to have half the personality that he does. i love you you little egg roll. you deserve nothing but squeaky toys, walks in the park, and endless fire hydrants for the rest of your days!

mikey peaka and lesh @ lake ontario

sleeping sitting up

front patio in salt lake city

lesh and i in vermont

at our house in stowe

fuck the rain. wet things suck.

getting back on your feet.

it's all fun and games, until you stop getting high. then you actually have to DEAL with reality. bullshit, right? i'm still waiting to see this light that "they" speak of. i knew it wasn't going to be easy, and i knew it wasn't going to be quick, but holy christ on a cracker... my life is being shipped to me via snail mail. i have a job, i'm doing the right thing, so why don't i have a car yet? why is it taking SO LONG for this process to happen? i applied to nursing school as a READMISSION student, so why is it taking SO LONG to hear back from them? i've already been accepted once, my transcripts haven't changed, so what's the hold up? seems like a pretty easy decision to me; "LET HER IN!!" i need things to start going my way. i need reassurance that all this "right-doing" is worth it and that all my hard work is going to pay off. because if it's not, then what's the point? i'm sure this sounds selfish of me, but recovery is all about being selfish, so this is me being selfish. i can only do so many right things without being rewarded before i'm going to throw my hands in the air and come to a halt. i need to see at least one life present wrapped in sparkly paper with a giant bow on it before i continue on with this life altering journey. that's human nature though, i think? don't most people do the right thing so good things come their way and in the process they feel good about themselves because they are doing right to others? it's called karma. karma has bit me in the ass for a long time and rightfully so, but now i'm doing what i "should be" doing and i'm demanding my ass back. i don't want to hear any bullshit about good things come to those who wait. waiting only puts people in the back of the line. i am budging the line; survival of the damn fittest. i don't take tickets and i don't wait in lines.

rest in peace, dougie. i love you.

this is the eulogy i read at my stepfather's funeral held on august 1, 2013. i cried the entire way through it, but i think i was still comprehensible. he LOVED the counting crows, so this one's for him...

"Dougie was the comedian in my life for the past 19 years since he first started dating my mother.  I remember the first time I met him, he came over to my mom's apartment in Grove Drive in Canandaigua and one of the first things he "said" to me was an impression of daffy duck.  That man loved doing cartoon imitations, and he did them so well.  Right off the bat he took sincere interest in me and quickly became a second father to me.  Family came first to Dougie, he always made sure my mom and I were taken care of, and he was close with my Grandma Hodgson too.  He got along well with my father, and that made me feel comfortable around him.  I'll never forget my childhood at Bristol Harbor.  He would always let me sit on his lap and drive down the private road, I remember feeling super cool for those 3-5 minutes that it took to get down to our condo.  He loved the lake and we spent a great deal of time on it as a family; water skiing, tubing, swimming, or just going for a cruise.  I will never forget the small things that he did for my mother and I.  Looking back on everything, the small things added up to a much bigger picture.  If it weren't for Dougie, I would not have been able to do a lot of which I have been blessed to do.  He provided a beautiful home on Fort Hill for my mom and I.  He may not have been the most patient person in the world, but he was patient when it came to my mom's happiness.  It only took her about 6 or 7 years to find a house to live in that met her standards.  But he gave my mom and I a place to call home.  I get knots in my stomach every time they mention selling our house, because it's the only place that I have always been able to go that has stayed stationary in my life.  I have moved around a lot, from the time I was in high school, so to me going home is always something I look forward to.  Dougie's success through hard work and motivation to provide for his family allowed my mother to stay home with me when I was little, so I didn't have to have a babysitter.  I think that is a big reason I am so close with my mom, because we have spent so much time together throughout my life, and I owe a lot of that time together to Dougie.  When my mom decided to go back to work as I got older, Dougie still made sure she had time to take care of her garden and her home, which is her passion.  He helped put me through college, and his passing has motivated me more than ever to go back to school and finish my degree, because I know that's what he would want for me.  Nothing but the best. He took me golfing with him, of course I didn't golf, I just enjoyed driving the cart and eating the food at the club house afterwards.  He took my mom, my Grandparents, my step cousins Cameron and Amanda and myself on camping trips.  The one I remember most, like it was yesterday, is the trip we took to Lake Placid > VT > NH > Maine.  In Lake Placid we jumped off the gorges into water holes - he was fearless - he jumped right off with no hesitation, and even did backflips.  But most importantly, he gave me the last real memory I have of my Grandpa Jack.  It means a lot to me that he included my Grandparents and built a relationship with them.  Throughout my ski racing career, he was almost always at all my nearby races, and the races he couldn't make he always called to check in to see how my results were.  He honestly cared, he was a true gentlemen.  I myself can relate a lot to him, and for that reason I will never judge him, but think of him as my guardian angel guiding me in the right direction.  At the end of the day, he had a heart of gold and was a giant teddy bear that you couldn't help but love.  Any man that ends up as half the man he was is truly blessed.  I will never forget my memories with Dougie and what he has done for my mom and I.  He was a hard worker and tried his best all the time to make sure we were happy.  He put us before himself.  That's the Dougie I will always remember, cherish, and love. This tragedy has taught me a lesson about family and about life.  Family is irreplaceable, you only get one so you better treat them right because they are the people that will always be there for you.  And as for his lesson on life - you never know if tomorrow will come, so you should live each day as if it's your last. If there's something you want to do in your life, don't wait to do it, just do it, and once you've become committed to something - finish it.  Basically what I'm trying to say is don't live life just half way, live it all the way. Don't let your glass be half full or half empty, fill it to the top until it's overflowing.  That's the type of life Dougie always strived to live, and I wish he could have continued to live such a life, but God works in mysterious ways.  I'll never understand why God takes away so many good people far before their time is up, but I do understand that Dougie lived a better life in the 54 years he was alive than most people live throughout the entirety of their natural lifespan.  And for that reason, I will somehow, someway be at peace with his passing.  I love you Dougie, I always have and I always will.  When the Yee makes it up to heaven (which honestly shouldn't be too much longer - he's 119 in human years and he can barely move, breathe, see, hear or control his bowels anymore), make sure you give him yicken, yeak and york yops!;) "

good days. bad days.

i don't have to control my thoughts. i just have to stop letting my thoughts control me. today was particularly MEH. one day i feel like superwoman, the next i feel like the biggest fuck up i know. regardless if either of those standings are true, they are still my feelings. when i'm having good days, i'm mostly proud of myself for how far i've come since i left new york. but when i'm having bad days, holy shit do the wheels in my head start turning. i fucked up my education, and now i need to work extra hard to get back what i've lost. i've lost a lot of friends, but fuck 'em, they don't deserve the real me if they can't stand strong with the weak me. i've made horrible financial decisions; my credit line = epic mother mary of fail. i had a nice car; now i have my 2 feet, and my 2 short legs. on my good days i'm grateful that i have a job, but on my bad days i'm just all "holy shit, my paycheck freakin blowssss!".  i still have a very hard time admitting to the things i've done during active addiction. they are very shameful. so, i'm not quite ready to advertise them on the internet, but i will say that they haunt me relentlessly, especially on my bad days. i hate my bad days. i even get down on myself for being down on myself. i know i should be gratified but it's hard for me to forget how badly i disrupted my life. before this MESS that i created, i had so much going for me. i had an almost 4.0GPA, i was an amazing athlete, i had a very good head on my shoulders. it's hard to live a certain way and then downgrade and be completely content. and then on top of that, sit around and think of how your life would be different if you should'a, would'a, could'a. those 3 words are all a bunch of bitches i'd like to kick to the curb. so the million dollar question is.... "HOW THE HELL DID I GET HERE?!" it certainly didn't happen over night. i did not wake up one more morning and say to myself "hey, you know what? i think i'm gonna cause some class A down and dirty pandemonium on my life, fuckin right doggy." no, that didn't happen. it was more like a mild dust storm that picked up into a violent windstorm that turned into a level 3 tornado that tore a couple rooftops off and the next thing you know i'm pushing dorthy into a level 5 all the while trying to stay alive (twister reference in case you didn't catch that). i guess i just can't seem to find a happy medium. instead of being extraordinarily high on life or extraordinarily down on life, i'd really like to find a balance somewhere in between. that way i never expect too much, or too little. i'd just go through my days rollin' with the punches. maybe the answer is that i need to start going to more meetings, start surrounding myself with more people like me. i do live with a very good friend of mine who has been there for me more than i could have ever wished for, but i still spend a lot of time alone. i know that it isn't healthy, and i know i need to get out there and go do super sober things with super sober people. apparently super sober dogs don't count as super sober company, although if given the option i'd probably beg to differ that notion. so here i am 7 hours from home, sober, healthy, not alone, but alone. i moved to michigan in early july to get clean, and it's been really good for me. i got clean. i got my ass a job to roll in the benjamins. i have relationships with my family members again, some better than others. i've learned who my real friends are. you'd think i'd be satisfied, right? but that's the problem. addicts are never satisfied. we always want MORE. i have no family here - i want my damn family. i don't know any sober support here (partially due to my laziness and not reaching out, but without a car it makes things more difficult... yeah yeah i know, excuses excuses), i don't want to surround myself with just 1 friend - i want ALL of my friends with me at ALL times. i guess i have an issue with codependency as well. whatever, comes with the territory. i know i'm certainly not rowin down the river alone in that boat. but anyways, today sucked. lots of negativity went through my head. and now my task for the evening is to shake that vibe and change my state. a little umphrey's mcgee bumpin through my speakers right now is helping, and guess who gets to go get down to the UM this sunday?! THIS LITTLE MAMA! and just like that, my state has changed. cause i went from negative to positive and it's all good - and if ya don't know, now ya knowww...!

irony.

AC2B (click me)
studio version (click me to listen)

taken hours after it was done

well holy shit. maybe i'm psychic, or maybe the world does crumble together when you least expect it. i got these lyrics tattooed on my back well before my addiction became full circle. originally, i decided on these words to be permanently inked on my back because a) it's one of my all time favorite songs by b) one of my all time favorite bands, the disco biscuits. there were no other reasons than just those. but now i look at them, and i'm just like fuckin christ - i should have known then of what my life would become. do you remember when you were little and you would play the telephone game? well, if you do remember, you probably also remember that the last message relayed was never anywhere near what the original message was. that same outcome happens when people talk about what they "know". so many people talk about my life, and the life of others, as if they are in fact the actual person they are speaking of. to put it nicely, fuck off - you don't know my story, or the story of others, you only know your story. everyone is entitled to a copy written version of their autobiography. and faster than i've ever swam, i am doing one hell of a butterfly stroke to the promised land. i've been searching so hard for it that sometimes i forget what i'm searching for, and i need to take a step back and just live in today, even if tomorrow is where i want to go. things have not been what they seem to be, i was a prisoner in my own skin, and now i am free from my worst enemy: myself.  for the first time, my boss saw my tattoo the other day as i was wearing a bareback shirt, and she asked me what the lyrics meant to me. now, i'm obviously not about to get into the nitty-gritty details of my past with my boss, but i did leave an impression with her that they were more than just words scribbled on my back. they are a melody to the beat of my life. i figured that was enough for her to know. i let her run with her imagination. she probably thinks that i am felon, spent a great deal of time in prison, got released from behind bars, ate a lot of acid, and now i am convinced that i am swimming in a sea towards never-never land.

i'm not sure if jon (barber) gutwillig's meaning to the lyrics are anything close to how i have interpreted them and put them into relation to my personal life, but that's the beauty of words - their connection is unique to each individual. i don't even really want to know what the real background is behind the lyrics, because i'm afraid it will ruin my interpretation of them. being that these words are forever established on the entirety of my back, i'd prefer to be satisfied with my own understanding of them.

i'd also like to apologize for posting a studio version of this song, it was the only decent sound quality and full version i could find on youtube. for those with biscuit virgin ears, go listen to some live downloads.