Home Group

It has been oh-so long a time since I have been here.I would love to say that I will be here more often, but, well... promises are best unsaid. Hmm...?

I went to my Home Group last night. I popped my name into the basket to share about an experience I had a long long time ago about Tradition 11. 
Say what??
Tradition 11:
"Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio, and films."


I sat. I waited. I listened. I Learned!! I never got the opportunity to share my ESH on Tradition 11.

But. But... I got the amazing opportunity to hear some of the most amazing sharing I have heard at a meeting in years! Fuck, YEARS, yeah!!

I adjusted my anticipated share to include the utter Gratitude I was feeling. For my Home Group, for being a part of Recovery in Narcotics Anonymous, for NA as a whole AND to be alive & clean today because of NA.

I'm not going to regale you of that miniscule iota I wanted to share. Suffice to say that I was so overwhelmed by the sharing of all the members who spoke... well, my words would have meant nothing. Well, yeah, someone may have gotten something... but, I digress.

Remember. It is all about me? Right?! Even tho' I did not get the chance to say what I wanted to say, I was totally grounded in what I have been doing for the past JFTs to the point of utter... what? WOW?

Narcotics Anonymous has kept me alive for a very long time. My efforts in staying clean and living the 12 Steps of NA has shown me what I need to do. I have found a way out. It happens to be (& eff you, traditionalists!! hehe, which I consider myself to be one!!)... Narcotics Anonymous!

Even with the decisions I face today, the life I need to incorporate today and the fact that I am still alive & clean today... I am grateful.

I mean, fuck, I sure as heck would "not"  be who I be today if not for what NA has given me. Some may not agree, but still, I Am Alive! Thank You, NA!!!

Keep The Faith*


I Am Tired

That phrase? "Sick and tired of being sick and tired"??

Me. In a nutshell. I try to do my best in this world. Follow the rules. Speak the truth, to my best ability. Let the powers that be know what is going on in my life.

My ass is truly beginning to hurt. I have been fucked far too many times by those very same powers that be. And I try, oh-so hard, to be grateful for all that I am offered. But, when the offerings become more and more butt-fucking, well... I tend to become combative.

I am utterly ready and willing to toss in the towel. I have no more fight left in me. Indeed, the urge to growl and snarl and scream bloody murder is very much a part of my psyche today. It's just that I know that anything... everything!! I do or say will be ignored. Trashed. Thrown under the bus. At least, I still have my Presto card to take me to those a-fore mentioned powers and... what? Cry boo-hoo? Tell them what for?? Threaten to......

Yeah, no matter what I say or do, I am fucked. Right here and now, or maybe two months or two years down the road, I am fucked. And I am utterly tired of being fucked by unknown and invisible entities that claim to be... what the fuck are they claiming to be??

Ah, right. My sore ass. They are the dicks who want to fuck and destroy anyone who does not conform utterly and totally to their strict regime of "Do what WE say!" or else we will change the rules to force you to your knees.

Yeah, not only is my ass sore, but my knees are taking a fucking beating also. I Am Tired. Tired of conforming. Tired of being honest. Tired of bending over and saying...
yes.  please, sir, i want some more...
Idiots. which includes yours truly...

Keep The Faith*


Welcome to the European Union!

Welcome to anyone from the EU who might just be reading my Blogg! It is oh-so good to see you here!!

Now, it is time for my rant. Fuck all of you governmental and intrusive legal watch-dogs in the European Union for making my life on this Interweb an utter pain.

I had to put up a "warning" on my website (robbsplace.net) to advise, ostensibly, anyone from the EU that I don't use fucking cookies on my website. And then, because I couldn't check the Google-ite monstrosity that hosts this blogg and stated they put up a cookie warning, well... I had to find and create a script to advise you fine regular folk of Google's intrusion in your lives. As if you didn't know that already...

The bitch of all that is that I have no idea if my creations and / or wordings are legally correct. Mayhap, I will receive a visit from Interpol advising of my transgressions. Which would be cool, since I might get meself an all expense-paid trip to Lyon, France. Woo-fucking-hoo.

There we go. All done whining. Not much more for me to do but to sit back and see if my travails were worth the effort.

Yeah, well, it would be nice to go to bed and SLEEP!

Keep The Faith*


To Sleep...

perchance to..... sleep??

Ah yes, another early morning awake. I went to bed relatively early (23:00), but had an odd-ball dream that woke me up. I went to the loo to do my business and back to bed, still tired. But, the ol' brain was in high gear, wondering incessantly about this, that and, naturally, the other thing about that very same dream that woke me... and my brain.

Shazbat! So, I turned on the computer. And, of course, spent a half hour wandering thru FB before coming here. Here was my first intention and yet...

Heck, no wonder I don't sleep or find it hard to stay asleep! I am just SO easily distracted!!
- - - ooooo, squirrel!! - - -

Keep The Faith*



That can mean so many different things. Remember my past, where I came from, where I've been, what I have done. Remember why I am here today, the travails I went thru to get here and my gratitude for being here.

Right now, I want to remember the meeting at my HG tonight. And my meeting last night. On both occasions, also remembering the Insanity I spoke of last time, I really didn't want to be at either meeting. I just wanted to stay at home and try to figure out just what the fuck is going on in my life that makes me want to isolate.

Yet, at both meetings... just by being there and talking to my friends, listening to them and hearing what they were doing in life or Recovery... I was happy. Happy to be amongst those I love and care for, and just to BE!

After last night's meeting, I got home and promptly forgot that good and happy feeling I had. Today I was smacked by the foibles that my diabetes tends to toss at me with no apparent reason. Low blood sugars when I haven't done anything physically (or emotionally!) to bring them on. I even got smacked with an insulin reaction just before tonight's HG, after taking far less insulin before supper than usual and... yeah.

It's a conspiracy, I tell ya! A Conspiracy!! Hehe, but no. Anyway, I just wanted to put down here in words that I can read later on just to remind me, to Remember, how good I felt. Heck, still feel!! And that, my friends, is a good remember when!!

Keep The Faith*




Do I have either one? Am I either one? Both?

I talk of the multiple hamster wheels in my head. Tonight, today... this MORNING!! I feel like my head is physically rolling around in muck and slime. Tumbling, falling, soaring...

Fucking insane. So fucking insane I feel...... what? Just what is it that I feel? Confusion? Question mark and question marks. So many freaking questions that I don't even know what the fuck they are! Questions about answers that are not known or even there.

Do you see it? Read that previous paragraph again, like I just did. Do you see it?? Read it and tell me wtf I said, or what I mean. Tell ME!! I doubt you can. I can't.

This is the idiotic mumbo-jumbo that is rattling my thoughts. Feelings? I don't know what that is anymore.

Life is good. I KNOW that! I can just look around... well, not around my apartment. Dishes languishing in my sink. Dirt & dust & crinkly grey whiskers on my floor. I did a big laundry load yesterday. Still more to do. I set up my aquarium, ready for me to go out and catch some fishies to put in it. I don't want to do more laundry. I don't want to do those dishes. I don't want to vacuum those crinkly white hairs & dust on the floor.

I don't want to do anything. I don't want to do this recovery shyte any more. I don't want to do that fucking service, that "giving back" any more. I don't want to do anything. Just stay locked up in my apartment and watch Netflix. Thank the gods that I have a shit load of gigs to use with my Internet service.

Naw, I don't even want to continue typing away here. I just had to get up from bed because my head was going to roll away from me and try to hide from the insanity. I mean... well, shit...

You decide. I can't. I'm too fucking crazy to even contemplate such a thing.

Keep The Faith*



A long ways back, my son warned me of the dangers of the "connected" world. Most specifically of the intrusion of CCTV. To those who might not know what that means, CCTV is "Closed Circuit TV". It is those small, relatively inobtrusive, video cameras that monitor such things as street corners, stop lights, shopping malls or elevators.

I was just a wee bit skeptical of his claims at first. But, after some of ruminating, I thought that he might be correct in his assumptions. And still, I had my doubts. 

Thanks to that wonderful thing called Netflix, I had my first awakening to what may be our greatest downfall as an independent species. I watched a TV series from the UK called "Caught On Camera". The program highlighted the wonderful advantages that CCTV can offer in bringing criminals to justice. Criminals such as people who urinate in public places, those who decide to light up a spliff on a park bench and even folks who get stumbling drunk on the streets. 

Yes, yes, I am making just a little bit of fun about what CCTV could offer. The 3 examples I offered were amply shown throughout the series I watched, along with some very Very effective forms of security related protection this sort of 24 hour surveillance can offer. And yet... I wondered...

I just finished watching a movie on (grazie, Netflix!!) called "The Circle". Other than the enjoyment of seeing actors I have enjoyed over the years, this one film told me that not only was my son correct in his concerns, but that we are truly fucked with regards to any sort of privacy we might think we have in today's society.

The BBC show told me that Britain is watched and constantly monitored 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. So, if you head out for a night on the town and you decide to pick your nose, someone is watching and laughing at your action.

The movie told me that the technology most probably exists somewhere where anyone or any government agency can (& probably does!) watch almost every move we make in today's world. 

At first, the movie seemed to be a fun romp thru mindless time passing. As it progressed, I got this feeling that what was being portrayed was entirely possible. Even I, a simple and boring example of humanity, am equipped with all sorts of recording devices that can be hidden and/or used in a manner that YOU might never know of.

Voice recorders, video and image cameras, heck, I can capture anyone & everyone as easily as I could simply by looking at them. And I am nothing more than a tech fan. I don't know the half (quarter??) of what goes into the creation or processing of all that data. Imagine what a tech nerd, or a government arm with billions of $$$ at their disposal, can do. Or, as in the movie, a private multi-billion dollar company could do. Facebook, anyone???

Ever since my son shared his concerns over privacy invasion via video, I have been increasingly aware of the utter abundance of closed-circuit television cameras everywhere. I see them in my apartment building, in the variety of stores & malls I visit, on the streets and even in government offices (surprised??!!)

We are being watched! George Orwell may well have been overly optimistic in his 1949 vision of a society constantly and consistently under review by government authorities in his book called "1984". We are now far gone from that particular year, even decades!, but...

If you think by now that I am somewhat paranoid about where we are in today's society, I would strongly suggest you watch "The Circle" (starring, in no particular order, Emma Watson -Harry Potter-, Tom Hanks -well, yeah-, and Bill Paxton -look him up-). If that movie does not make you think, then maybe watch the Jason Bourne series of films. There you can see how the government can control all those itty-bitty video contraptions that litter our landscape.

I hope that I just made your day more enjoyable! If not, then, more suspicious...

Keep The Faith*


Another Year

... and I'm still here! Somewhat healthy, partially sane, but thrilled and grateful to no end to be clean and in recovery!!

On April 14 of 1992, I came to the spiritual awakening... no, more of a spiritual change... that I couldn't keep on doing what I was doing (using drugs) and hope to live or even survive life. I had a wee bit over three years of clean time a few months before that date, but ignored all that I was taught by my recovery Fellowship and relapsed.

But, ah, yes BUT! On this date in '92, it was my wife, Bernie's, 30th birthday. Or would have been, if she hadn't gone on to the infinite recovery called death. My spiritual change came because I realized that my own recovery depended on me  staying alive, for my kids (the gods bless  all 3!) and for the memory of the woman who showed me this gift called Narcotics Anonymous!
--- and poo on you Tradition thumpers who may wail at my despoiling of Tradition 11!! ---

Today, I celebrate life. Today I celebrate another milestone in my journey in this recovery process. Today, I am 26 years Clean! My eldest daughter, Jenna texted me a few days ago to congratulate me on my Clean-iversary! I found that to be the most exquisite description of such an event. A Clean-iversary!! beautiful...

So, later on this evening, I'll be heading off to a meeting and pick up another black, multiple year keytag to add to my collection. And, next week on April 20, I will celebrate my accomplishment (may the gods be gentle & willing) with my friends who are also a part of this journey of Recovery with me!

Keep The Faith*
(oh, and Happy 56th Birthday, Bernie! You are missed!!)


First Time

In almost 30 years being a part of this recovery process, not once have I had a speaking share recorded. I guess there's a first time for everything!

Spring Break Share - 31 March 2018


I Wonder

...if my "work" here on the Internet is nothing more than an vain attempt at making myself into something I simply may not be.

Amazing as it is, I have seen enough memes about humankind's incessant need to publish this and that and (yes, of course!) the other thing about absolutely nothing at all. I look at the images & words that are placed on YouTube and that stew-pid Facebook and realize I am just trying to be something else. Which ain't me.

Have you looked at my Facebook feed?
Have you looked at my YouTube page?

There is absolutely nothing there that shows who or what I am. Nada. Believe me, I looked. Then again, my "research" has brought absolutely nothing to mind as to what or who I truly am!

I am a father. I have three absolutely amazing children who have given me more pride and hope in life than I could ever desire.

I am an addict in recovery. That alone has taken me far beyond my self-imposed "Best Before Date" (which just happened to be the age of 30).

Just those two things should (in my imagination) just about put me in a spot of "Way to go, Robb!" Still, I question my accomplishments.

Just what did I do to have such great kids? That question rattles and addles my brain on a constant basis. Just what the fuck was my influence upon those three that made them as good and decent as they are today? And, oh yes, And, was there any influence upon them at all from the likes of me?

Recovery? Many times I think that it is more a matter of "clean time" than any sort of "recovery". I try to give back to my Fellowship, but it pales to utter insignificance when I see (& remember!) that I have not sponsored anyone for more than 8 years. So, wtf am I doing in this business?

The questions continue. Questions about me. Fuck what my kids tell me. Fuck what others in recovery tell me. I need to tell me! I need to learn my place here in life. I also need to just simply accept the fact that I am where I am because that is the way of life.

But, I am a cynical and snide person. Just look at my Google+ profile!
Ha! And once again, I try that shit-hole attempt at self promotion to try and make me be something that I just may not be!

Ooooo, that reminds me! I am at that quarterly point of advertising Robb's Place on FB! Gotta go...

Keep The Faith*


Amazing Recovery...

One of those things is what I hear at a meeting. At my Thursday night meeting, the "It's Possible" group on Caldwell (Come visit! It's a blast... and It's Possible!!) we read the JFT --Just For Today-- mediation for February 15. It was about "An Awakening of the Spirit."

I do not read the daily meditations at all. The only time I hear them is at a meeting I attend that uses them as a part of the opening readings. My Thursday night meeting has been opening with the JFT for the past while. Tonight, I am grateful for that!

The reading went as follows:

๐™๐™š๐™ฌ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™ช๐™จ ๐™˜๐™–๐™ข๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™›๐™ž๐™ง๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™‰๐™–๐™ง๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™˜๐™จ ๐˜ผ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฎ๐™ข๐™ค๐™ช๐™จ ๐™ข๐™š๐™š๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™–๐™˜๐™๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ ๐™š ๐™– ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™–๐™ก ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ซ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฎ ๐™ค๐™ง ๐™—๐™š๐™ก๐™ž๐™š๐™ซ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™– ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™ž๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™–๐™ก ๐™ซ๐™ค๐™ž๐™™ ๐™š๐™ญ๐™ž๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™™ ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™จ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ก๐™จ. ๐™’๐™š ๐™๐™–๐™™ ๐™ฃ๐™ค ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ ๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ฌ๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™š๐™ง๐™š ๐™–๐™—๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™š๐™ข๐™—๐™–๐™ง๐™  ๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™– ๐™Ÿ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง๐™ฃ๐™š๐™ฎ ๐™ฌ๐™๐™ž๐™˜๐™ ๐™ฌ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ก๐™™ ๐™–๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ ๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™จ๐™ก๐™š๐™š๐™ฅ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™ž๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™จ. 

๐™‡๐™ž๐™ ๐™š ๐™– ๐™ก๐™ค๐™ช๐™™ ๐™–๐™ก๐™–๐™ง๐™ข ๐™˜๐™ก๐™ค๐™˜๐™ , ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™๐™ž๐™ง๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™Ž๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฅ ๐™—๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™จ ๐™ช๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™จ๐™š๐™ข๐™ž-๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™˜๐™ž๐™ค๐™ช๐™จ๐™ฃ๐™š๐™จ๐™จ-๐™–๐™ก๐™ฉ๐™๐™ค๐™ช๐™œ๐™ ๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ฉ, ๐™ฌ๐™š ๐™ข๐™–๐™ฎ ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฉ ๐™—๐™š ๐™จ๐™ช๐™ง๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™๐™š๐™ฉ๐™๐™š๐™ง ๐™ฌ๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™˜๐™ก๐™ž๐™ข๐™— ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™—๐™š๐™™ ๐™ค๐™ง ๐™ข๐™–๐™ฎ๐™—๐™š ๐™จ๐™ก๐™š๐™š๐™ฅ ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง ๐™Ÿ๐™ช๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™›๐™ž๐™ซ๐™š ๐™ข๐™ค๐™ง๐™š ๐™ข๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ช๐™ฉ๐™š๐™จ. ๐™๐™๐™š ๐™œ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ก๐™š ๐™๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™จ๐™๐™–๐™ ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™จ๐™๐™ค๐™ช๐™ก๐™™๐™š๐™ง๐™จ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ฌ๐™š ๐™–๐™ฅ๐™ฅ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™Ž๐™š๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™๐™๐™ž๐™ง๐™™ ๐™Ž๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฅ๐™จ ๐™˜๐™–๐™ช๐™จ๐™š๐™จ ๐™ช๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ช๐™ฅ, ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™š๐™ฉ๐™˜๐™, ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฎ๐™–๐™ฌ๐™ฃ. ๐™’๐™š ๐™ฃ๐™š๐™š๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™ฅ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™จ๐™ก๐™š๐™š๐™ฅ ๐™›๐™ง๐™ค๐™ข ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™š๐™ฎ๐™š๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฌ๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™Ž๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฅ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™จ๐™๐™–๐™ง๐™š ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™๐™ž๐™›๐™ฉ๐™. ๐˜ฝ๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ฌ๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™ค๐™ง๐™  ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™Ž๐™ž๐™ญ๐™ฉ๐™, ๐™Ž๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™, ๐™€๐™ž๐™œ๐™๐™ฉ๐™, ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™‰๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™Ž๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฅ๐™จ, ๐™ฌ๐™š ๐™—๐™š๐™œ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™˜๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™– ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฅ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ง๐™ฉ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™– ๐™จ๐™ข๐™ž๐™ก๐™š ๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฅ๐™จ. ๐™Š๐™ช๐™ง ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™ž๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™จ ๐™จ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™จ๐™๐™ค๐™ฌ๐™š๐™ง ๐™–๐™จ ๐™ฌ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™€๐™ก๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™Ž๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฅ๐™จ. ๐˜ผ๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™ฌ๐™š ๐™ฅ๐™ง๐™–๐™˜๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™˜๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™๐™ฌ๐™š๐™ก๐™›๐™ฉ๐™, ๐™ก๐™š๐™–๐™ซ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™๐™ค๐™ช๐™จ๐™š ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™จ๐™š๐™–๐™ง๐™˜๐™ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™ค๐™ฉ๐™๐™š๐™ง๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™–๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ ๐™š๐™ฃ. 

๐™’๐™š ๐™™๐™ค๐™ฃ'๐™ฉ ๐™๐™–๐™ซ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ง๐™š๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™ก๐™ž๐™ซ๐™š๐™จ ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™– ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™ž๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™–๐™ก ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข๐™–. ๐™’๐™š ๐™ข๐™–๐™ฎ ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฉ ๐™ก๐™ž๐™ ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™œ๐™š๐™ฉ ๐™ช๐™ฅ ๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ข๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฃ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™—๐™ช๐™ฉ, ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™—๐™š๐™™, ๐™ฌ๐™š'๐™ง๐™š ๐™–๐™ก๐™ข๐™ค๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™–๐™ก๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ฎ๐™จ ๐™œ๐™ก๐™–๐™™ ๐™ฌ๐™š ๐™™๐™ž๐™™.

๐™…๐™ช๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง ๐™๐™ค๐™™๐™–๐™ฎ: ๐™๐™ค ๐™–๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ ๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™ข๐™ฎ ๐™จ๐™ก๐™š๐™š๐™ฅ๐™ฎ ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™ž๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฉ, ๐™„ ๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™ก๐™ก ๐™ช๐™จ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™๐™ฌ๐™š๐™ก๐™ซ๐™š ๐™Ž๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ฅs.

What amazed me was the way this reading made understanding the 12 Steps of NA so utterly simple.

From Step 1 where we learn to just wake up from our addiction, Steps 2 & 3 where we get up and stretch, to Steps 4 & 5 when we wipe the sleep from our eyes, Steps 6, 7, 8 and 9 as we discover a spring in our steps plus a little smile, then we sing as we work Steps 10 & 11, and then get ourselves out into that wonderful world to maybe help someone else to awaken from the insanity of addiction and introduce them to the wonder of Recovery in Step 12!
Amazing Recovery!

Keep The Faith*


Without A Country


Perhaps it is time for me to find a small piece of Crown land, annex it and claim it as my own independent country. Disallow the vaunted and admired Canada entrance or recognition. Impose a levy upon all who would want to venture into my domain. Bar any incursion into my dominion, with force as required.

Now, why would I even consider such a drastic move? Let me tell you a story.

Eight years ago, I was asked by my father to drive him and my aunt to Minnesota to visit family there. I was willing, but I needed to obtain a Canadian passport to make the crossing into the USofA.

No problem. I got all the required documentation together -- applications, birth certificate, driver's licence, photo and a wondrous piece of paper issued by the ruling Canadian government of the time called "Registration of Birth Abroad". It was created because I was born in that same USofA in 1957 and it proclaimed me as a citizen of Canada.

But, Passport Canada (a Canadian government agency) did not recognize the paper I had as being valid. It was a copy. Never mind that this thing had taken me to the States many times and even helped to land me a contract with the Canada Revenue Agency. Sorry, bub...

OK. I heard about an enhanced driver's licence issued by the Ontario government that would allow a person to cross the border sans passport. I went to a Service Ontario office to apply. The clerk behind the desk didn't know wtf this Registration of Birth Abroad was and began to ask co-workers about it. One said, " I've seen that before. It's good." and I got my EDL.

Fast forward to the present. I tried to get myself placed as a signing authority on a bank account for a group I am a member of. None of my pieces of ID were satisfactory. I had lost my EDL because the ON government said my eyesight wasn't good enough to continue driving. I didn't have a Social Insurance card showing my SI number, it having fallen apart after 40 years and me not willing to spend the $10 or so to get a piece of paper... well, yeah. The ID I had used satisfactorily for over 50 years was now worth fire kindling.

Skip a couple of months, and I again tried to become a signature on another account for a group that I was elected treasurer of. Guess what? SSDD.

Hm. I decided to budget my pennies (which we no longer have in Canuckistan) and get an official Ontario Photo Card. I went to the same Service Ontario office where I got my EDL. Hello? The Registration of Birth Abroad isn't on their list of "official" documents. Plus, I had the original document in my hands, not the copy which previously stymied Passport Canada.

I mean, really. Just a few short years ago, this office gave me an enhanced driver's licence based on lesser docs. But, now... sorry, No Soup For YOU!!

Sigh. Anyway, I found that I had an opportunity to go to a convention in Minnesota that just happened to be on my clean date. -[don't ask]- But, I need a passport. Instead of going through the hoops & hurdles of paperwork and photo, I went to the Passport Canada today just to see if the improved Registration of blahblah was sufficient, based on recent roadblocks.

Nope. That document is not listed as a valid form of identification. I didn't want to point out my last visit there and that I had the thing they said they needed and that they were being absolute fucking dickheads about... well, yeah.

My next step is to fashion two letters of concern. One to the Ontario government (ie. Kathleen Wynne), the Minister of Identification Fuckery, and my local Member of Provincial Parliament. That is, one letter to three separate Provincial offices.

The second letter would be the same but directed to three branches of the federal government. One to the PM, one to the Minister in charge of Passport Fuckery and the last to my local Member of Parliament. And each and every one of those six people are all fucking Liberals! I am screwed.

At this rate, I doubt the USofA would even grant me entrance. Thus, I might just have to take a page from les maudit Quรฉbรฉcois playbook and actually declare independence. Look out, world, here comes the Royal Republic of Greybeard!! (population:1)

Keep The Faith*



Unfinished. Not done. Not yet over. 

I have come to realize that I can be, and am, judgmental. Holier than thou. The great know-it-all. All it took was one person to point that out to me. Someone who I have the greatest respect and admiration for. A person who has recently faced personal tragedy in his life. And I had the absolute audacity to think that I could offer insight to what or how he is feeling.

All based on a simple comment that there was (my words) some unfinished business that needed doing. Now, I am also of the realization that I, too, have unfinished business. Business that can actually be achieved, if not resolved.

It involves a few people, a few less than from years back due to the wonders of death. Still, all of the people who are gathered up in this conspiracy of denial and blame shifting are known to me. I have all their names. I know all of their past actions, their in-actions and their self-preserving subterfuge.

A simple and effective means of possible closure is to just put names out there and associate each and every one with an event or events. I could also list the numerable consequences, but the far & away easiest is to just say Suicide.

So. Name names. Put an act to each and every name. Who. What. Be as descriptive as those very acts were described to me. I would need to ensure that each is held accountable for their parts in the whole sordid mess, be the means of their destruction. Or, if anything, be the source of their discomfiture and invitation to litigation.

All of that, just because I am presumptuous. A self-centered, intellectual, smart ass. And all I needed to be reminded of my fallibility was to be told of my judging way. For that, I am grateful. I am also grateful for being reminded of my own unfinished business. Something that has been avoided for too long now. Something that needs remedying. And it shall be done. Not with malice, but with intent.

Keep The Faith*


It's Possible

I went to my Thursday meeting tonight. My usual service... opening the facility, getting the literature out, setting up the coffee and readying the tables & chairs. Same old, same old for the past few months.

However, last week 4 (Four!) other members showed up! And tonight's meeting had 6 (SIX!). And that doesn't include yours truly. After several weeks of maybe one other person making an appearance -- which made for some amazing Recovery talk! -- I think I was feeling, what? Resentful?? about showing up and hoping for a turnout greater than two.

Well, last week, I was feeling quite giddy at the meeting. Like a kid in a candy store with dad's platinum credit card! I repeated myself ad nauseum about my Gratitude for those who showed up. I Was Truly Grateful!!

When I got home last week, I felt this tug, a twinge, in my gut. I wasn't hungry. I wasn't angry. I wasn't lonely. I was tired, so I thought to look at that as the cause for my... hehe... dis-ease.

It turned out, after rummaging thru my ever-stocked larder of emotions, I was actually feeling disappointed that so many people had made an appearance.

A couple of months ago, I had a thought that if members don't show up and it comes around to the end of June (which would be the group's 2 year anniversary), I was thinking of doing the unthinkable and shutting the meeting down.

Yup, that "twinge" in my gut was the kernel of a resentment. Today's JFT mediation reading was about daily inventory. I realized that was precisely what I did one week ago. An inventory. And it took me a whole week, plus getting the meeting ready, plus having seven members in attendance (me too!) and feeling giddy all over again to realize that I am still Living my recovery instead of just Working it!

My, my. It's Possible!!

Keep The Faith*



Just that... Ha. Guess what?! Ayup, Peripheral neuropathy (PN) pains and an over-active hamster wheel. So I came here to whine. When I sat down, it was a kind of dรฉjร  vu. I thought, "Hm. I've been here before." I decided to not repeat myself and went on to read many many entries I've made here in this blog of mine.

I went as far back as the end of February, but stopped well short of my ARGH entries. Didn't need that kinda stimulation! As it is, I actually enjoyed reading all that crazy wonderful stuff I wrote. Yep, I repeated myself ad nauseum about my brain going a mile a minute and the screaming insanity of my PN.

I actually could have done a good rant on my essential tremors, since they have been exploding in my face recently. And my hands. And my arms. Yadda yadda.

Right! Shut up Robb. Even tho' my physical bs is doing wondrous push-ups and thriving, I got just a wee bit o' peace by reading and wasting an acceptable 2+ hours here. I got to my HG last night. Heard some great words... and some terribly painful ones. Went out for fellowship afterwards. Got a ride home in -36degC (windchill) weather.

So I gots the cramps & pains in my shins and feet. So my brain wanted to go over and over and over and over and... yeah, shit that happened decades and longer ago. So what?

Life, even with the frigid temps and wind out there, is kinda sorta good!  I am alive! I had an amazing surprise 60th birthday party a week ago! I still have my family and more friends than I deserve! ๐Ÿ˜‰ Yay ME!!!

Keep The Faith*