Mr. 1000

Day 1000…WoW! I never thought I could put together 1000 straight Days of not drinking, drugging or gambling. Hell, I never thought I could put together 1000 Hours. But I realized it’s One Day At A Time.


I could always admit I was an alcoholic drug addict and I could never imagine feeling grateful about it. At almost three years clean and sober, my views have completely changed. I now count myself as one of those crazy people who believes they are truly lucky to be an alcoholic drug addict. The main reason I consider myself to be lucky to have accepted and overcome my addiction is that it has completely transformed my life. I’m a different person from who I was three years ago. I’ve gone from hopeless to hopeful.


I’ve finally become the person I was always meant to be, and I’ve done it by admitting that alcohol and drugs no longer belongs in my life. If I didn’t take that first step, I wouldn’t have the career, relationships, and happiness I am so grateful to have. It’s because of my addiction that I am where I am today. I never knew just saying the simple words “I am an alcoholic and drug addict” could be the catalyst to all of my joy. #OneDayAtaTime


My Anxieties have Anxieties

ANXIETY was when I cared too much about everything. There’s just so much going on in my mind, sometimes I can’t keep up with what’s going on in my mind. It’s like when you’re in a dream and you’re screaming but can’t make any noise. Instead of having your mind talk to you, talk to someone else that understands. That’s OK.


ANXIETY is terrible, you could be having an attack and no one would even know, because it’s an inward thing. It feels like you’re malfunctioning and you can’t process your own thoughts. You get a knot in your stomach and you can’t take a full breath, but outwardly you can literally just sit there and look completely normal, as long as no one tries to speak to you. That’s OK.


ANXIETY I realized today that I have stopped living life. I am literally just trying to get to the next day, just living in the thought of tomorrow. I am not living, I am waiting. And the trouble is, I don’t know what I am exactly waiting for. I am kind of scared for what it might be. Of course that’s the anxiety only talking. That’s OK.



Mental Health Awareness

Your struggle is part of your story. “Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.” Emotional pain is not something that should be hidden away and never spoken about. There is truth in your pain, there is growth in your pain, but only if it’s first brought out into the open. Although many of us are embarrassed of exposing our problem.


We hide all our scars with an “I’m fine.” Deep down inside we are crying for help. Our brains are constantly spinning, manic and anxiety ridden. I’m diagnosed with bi-polar and depression but seen by others as a happy man. You might think you do but you don’t know my story, my struggles, and the demons that I combat.


It’s my life, my struggles and I can’t help it sometimes. I’m just grateful that God kept me alive for me to tell it. I owe my today to my yesterdays. We live with regrets and probably will die with them too. There are two types of people in this world: the ones that are doing it and those busy saying they can’t do it.


The Struggle Is Real

I suffer from Mental Illness:

I stand in the shower head against the tile wondering is my life worth living. The water turns from hot to ice cold down the drain spinning. Why Me? Why Me? Why Me? I want to be “normal”. I want thoughts of better days but that’s impossible when my mind is a dead end maze. I’m good one minute, psycho the next. Ohh Hello BI-POLAR you came out to play. Is this just a brief stop or you deciding to stay. Come along the ride with DEPRESSION and pick up ANXIETY while you are at it. A MANIC trio on a road of disaster. Charles take these HAPPY pills it will swallow the pain and agony but in reality I’m swallowed whole grasping for air. I see a little light…HOPE.


I am not ashamed to say it. It’s the Stigma that shames us all. Just thankful to shed some light upon my darkest hours. We scroll up and down our social medias overlooking the underlying issues of one in danger or seeking help.


There’s only One that Sees and Hears the Pain We Hide From Others. A tear is made of 1% water and 99% feelings. Sometimes sad memories sneak out my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I hide behind my smile and laughter that it breaks my heart and I’m falling apart. Behind my brown eyes are so many hidden tears and behind my body is a soul trying to fight.

~~ The Struggle is Real but The Fight is Stronger ~~

– Charles Louis King

The Outsider

I’ve always been an outsider; a displaced person. Trying to fit in that inner circle. I felt wanted, popular, protected and loved. But it was only false hopes, beliefs, values and morals. I was a chameleon fed drugs, alcohol and any other addictions that made me “happy”.


I’m an addict got a habitual habit and I don’t avoid voids. Good at substitution replacing shit. I’m just trying to find my place with shit. I don’t have patience with people that can’t speak they mind. What the fuck they got a mouth for? Me, I’m so full of rage so used to being caged. I probably shouldn’t be outdoors. Everybody so scared of the TRUTH. Look in my eyes you stare at the TRUTH.


You still have a lot of time to make yourself be what you want. There’s still lots of good in the world. Although I’m clean and sober, I’m still surrounded around all the negativity, the bullshit, the liars, the cheaters, the conniving, the judgementals, the gossipers and the chronic relapsers. I’m taught to live life on life’s terms and live Just For Today. To witness and hear all those types of people in a day is stressful in itself. But I don’t pick up a drink NO MATTER WHAT.



Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil.

Nobody knows the REAL me. Nobody knows how many times I’ve sat by myself and cried, how many times I’ve lost HOPE, how many times I’ve been let down. Nobody knows how many times I’ve had to hold back tears, how many times I’ve felt like I’m about to snap but don’t. Nobody knows the thoughts that have gone through my head and how horrible they really are.
You know my Name.
Not my Story.
You see me Laugh and Smile.
Not my Pain.
You notice my Fears.
Not my Nightmares.
You can read my Lips.
Not my Mind.
Unlike others, I can’t drink my problems away. I can’t celebrate triumphs by using drugs. I can’t talk to those that don’t understand. Plugged into my Recovery Program I know a Depressant doesn’t help Depression. Even the one’s closest to me can’t understand me. It’s hard some days but I don’t drink or pick up. I speak to outside professional help for my medicine. Brain disease, Drinking disease, or Thinking disease I don’t like feeling this way but I must overcome.