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I note there are three interesting things about the dreams I remember. One interesting thing about dreams is the setting; they always seem to have some sort of familiarity. Another interesting thing about dreams is that if I wake-up, look at the clock, and decide I have some extra time, I seem to go into a level of consciousness, as I start to ponder, that perhaps isn't as deep as my average sleep; the dream during this period of time seems easier to remember. The third thing I just forgot; perhaps I was thinking that it is usually the last dream of my sleep time that I tend to remember.
In my dream this morning, the setting was an Army base. I was carrying a baby. Everyone was busy packing equipment and preparing to deploy for a war. I was outside crossing over open concrete drainage ditches with the baby under my arm. I'm not sure where I was headed. I wound-up at McDonald's, and I was filled with anger. I yelled at the cashier, and then I screamed at the manager. I do not even know what happened to the baby. I was so consumed with anger, I was blind to everything else.
Yesterday morning I read in my church manual Addiction Recovery Program: A Guide to Addiction Recovery and Healing the following words "many people become so dependent on a behavior or a substance that they no longer see how to abstain from it. They lose perspective and a sense of other priorities in their lives. Nothing matters more than satisfying their desperate need. When they try to abstain, they experience powerful physical, psychological, and emotional cravings. As they habitually make wrong choices, they find their ability to choose the right diminished or restricted." The manual also states, "We who once lived with daily depression, anxiety, fear, and debilitating anger now experience joy and peace." My prayer is that we may all find and experience that joy and peace. --john
Tags: Anger Addiction
I thought I'd stop working a couple of minutes and share a paragraph from my end of course project on healthcare economics, a 10-page report comparing the United States and Republic of Korea healthcare systems. It might become obvious I've been doing a little reflecting on the past 30 years.  --john
The Miriam-Webster dictionary defines recovery as one, “the act, process, or an instance of recovering; especially: an economic upturn (as after a depression),” and two, the process of combating a disorder (as alcoholism) or a real or perceived problem” (2009). As a recovering alcoholic, thirty years tomorrow, and having witnessed one economic crisis in the ROK and going through another one in the US, I perceive the similarities in these two definitions as amazing. In alcoholism, one experiences a life crisis before recovery can begin. Once recovery begins, all phases of the individual’s life will gradually improve, especially their health. After a nation’s economic crisis, one can often see improvement in all phases of the country’s welfare, especially healthcare. However, if the alcoholic commits the mistakes of the past, progression is discontinued and everything worsens. “One day at a time” is a popular Alcoholics Anonymous slogan. Countries can continue to progress with healthcare reform by not repeating the mistakes of the past and continually progressing one day at a time. The recovery process is an ongoing progression for both an alcoholic and a nation. recovery. (2009). In Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary. Retrieved May 22, 2009, from http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/recovery
No, this is not a solicitation blog. This is a blog blog, or perhaps a blah blog. You decide. My wife and I have season tickets for the ReAL MLS team. I have had a problem of yelling at soccer games for quite some time. My yelling is especially bad when I perceive there has been an injustice such as a referee abusing his authority. After one recent game, my wife and I wrote a joint email to the three couples that were sitting on either side and in front of us. &nb sp; Great game last night! We hope John’s yelling didn’t detract from your enjoyment of the game. Here were the three enlightening responses. 1. Oh, someone yelling during the game only makes it better. I was glad I wasn’t the only one on my feet. 2. It was a great game and no, John’s yelling definitely wasn’t detrimental to the experience, actually it made it that much better. 3. Regarding John’s excitement last night, how could we be upset toward someone’s passion for soccer?! More folks should get into it as he does. We still think the best part was watching you beat John with the thundersticks! Yes, they handed-out thundersticks that night. And, yes, my wife was hitting me over my mouth and about my head with the sticks while I was yelling. Yes, the game was on ESPN. And, yes, our daughter saw her mother using the thundersticks on the “big screem.” I suppose there are worse ways to let-out my emotions, but me thinks I will always perceive abuse from referees at MLS soccer games.  I need to find a better way to express myself, especially a way that doesn’t bother my wife! I am open to any suggestions. I guess this is a solicitaion blog after all. I was thinking about making a couple of signs, but I’ve been yelling for years. --john
Tags: Abuse Yelling Soccer
I just came back from the grocery store; it's my turn to prepare tomorrow's family dinner. While I was walking home, there were ten pigeons cooing on top of a light pole and multitudes of people buzzing around in there own little bubbles of transportation both on the ground and in the air. While strolling along, I was reading an article about the addictive system when I came to the following paragraph, "Generally speaking, there is a lack of true intimacy in the life of an addict. This is a lack of ability to share deeply felt spiritual and emotional experiences with another person. This intimacy has nothing to do with sex. A key element in the recovery process will be for the addict to learn to develop appropriately intimate (ie., emotionally, not sexually, intimate) relationships with others." As I was pondering this, a chocolate Labrador ran-up to me and started sniffing me and the groceries. I thought about my first dog and how intimate she had been with me. My mother use to tell me the story about when I was approximately one year old, the dog developed welts along her back bone. She took the dog to a vet, but there were no fleas or anything of that sort. Then one night as she passed by the room I was in, she heard the dog faintly whimpering. She looked-in and found me teething along her backbone. The dog simply stayed still suffering in pain allowing me to ease my own pain. We had an emotional attachment, and she could sence all my feelings, including my sufferings. She always cheered me up, urged me to stay active, and watched over me. I could share anything with her, and never ber criticized. She gave her life protecting me from an attacking German Shepherd when I was about six or seven years old. I still miss her. She was a great example of love and sacrifice. You would think if a 15-pound Boston Terrier was capable of such greatness, that we humans should be capable of much more. As my friend Dennis oftens says, "Nuff said." 
Tags: Intimacy Addiction Preoccupation Ritualization Compulsive Behavior Pai
I was reflecting on both Poohbear71’s brother Kevin and Passitongreeting’s quote, "If you are facing the right direction, all you have to do is keep on walking," when I remembered an incident from my childhood. My school administered an IQ test, and my mother was called-in to discuss the results. It appears I had “missed†one question, and the one question I missed, no one else had missed. You had to put in order 4 pictures, a man walking, a man walking with a cane, a man on crutches, and a man in a wheelchair. We were supposed to arrange them in order of disability/handicap, but I arranged them in order of speed. My father always went faster in his wheelchair than with his cane, crutches, or wooden leg, and he seemed to be happier (less pain) in the wheelchair. We do tend to complicate this journey. I talked with Dad earlier today, he still has a goal to get out of his wheelchair and use his prosthesis to walk again. God bless him! Dr. Robert O. Becker where are you? Dad still fondly remembers you! I believe you have always been pointed in the right direction!! Thanks for caring!!!
Tags: Journey Direction Wheelchair "Dr Robert O Becker"
Not sure I've completely figured-out why Memorial Day weekend, 4th of July, and Veteran's Day are so hard for me (Step One - honesty.) You fight (not always understanding why,) you celebrate your victory (eveyone loves a party,) and you live with the scars (always looking for healing.)
All I know is that I miss those that aren't here. --John.
Tags: Memorial Day
I'm so glad I've been working the steps these past few months! I was pacing the floor last night, finished the bottle of olives, and emptied-out the peanut can. Good thing I haven't left myself much food in the house but some fruits and some frozen vegetables. I finally shifted my pattern/dance and dropped down on my knees and prayed. I don't usually pray at times like this because I've believed that I should approach God only when I can have a sincere discussion and offer praise and focus all my attention during my prayer and be ready to receive inspiration and act on that inspiration. Wow, was I in error. He calmed me down and put me to rest. This is my last week in the area where I was born, raised, built a house with God's help, and raised seven children. It's hard to leave. I start my 2000-mile journey one week from now. The worse is today though. I have this medical appointment/follow-up that I'm suppose to have once a year but I only do about every 5 years. I've had the appointment for 6 months. The problem is physical but relates to my PTSD. He's the only MD in the area that even understands the procudure I had, and he's retiring this year; I think I was # 41 or 43 that had it done, then i think they abandoned the procedure. At least I helped further medical science. I've got Jesus to hold my hand today!  He's sitting right next to me! I can't even find the paperwork I'm suppose to take. Oh well. I was just remembering, when the procedure was done at 121 hosp in Seoul, I was profiled to drink a six-pack of beer daily. Now I know that's not much, but if 6 was good, 12 must be better, etc. I remember the look on the CO's face when I handed him the profile and my case of beer. He dispensed one every 3-4 hours while i was on duty. Hey this writing stuff actually does help. I apologize to any and all who read this.  Weel, it;s time to get on with my ordeal. God bless all of you in your ordeals this and every day!
Tags: Leaving Home Goodbye
I know I haven't written in a while. I've been busy working the steps though! This morning, I remembered a patient I saw in the ER many years ago. He had an accident that lacerated his arm pretty bad. What he did next is what was interesting. He had been a corpsman in the military, and he sewed-up the wound with needle and thread. His anesthesia had been Jack Daniels, both on the outside and on the inside. It had been a couple of hours when he showed-up at ER. I had to take-out the old, put-in the new, and protect against further infection. I guess I was thinking that I've acted in a similar method. In the past I've taken immediate action to prevent profuse bleeding emotionally, now I have to take-out the old self-placed stitches, yeh it hurts, and allow my HP to put-in the new ones and protect me from further infection. Just a thought...
Tags: Self-medication Pain
I had a tough time sleeping last night; I was pretty restless. I remember one dream/nightmare, though it didn't feel like a nightmare while I was having it. While having it I was just doing what I was doing without the emotion I felt I should be having; it's kind of hard to explain. Well, here it is anyway. I was a soldier. Most the other soldiers were having a good time playing in the water in this cave, splashing around and everything. Other soldiers were standing outside on guard duty. The water looked cool and inviting and I new that those spashing around in it were having a great time. However, I was kind of numb toward it all. I walked outside and looked-up and saw a squad of enemy soldiers moving-in on the ridge. I didn't have a weapon and I hurried to alert those on guard duty. The enemy had automatic weapons and opened fire mowing-down the guards that had their backs to the enemy. I was in the water as one of the hit guards dropped his rifle. I grabbed the rifle before it completely submerged beneath the water. I took-out two of the enemy with two very focussed shots (I had been taught to use a rifle at the age of 11 in military school in Vermont and had earned many of the NRA certifications prior to the age of 12, the legal age of using a rifle here in New York; I find it amazing that I still know how to use an M16 after all these decades, but in the dream I went through all the steps.) There were many more of the enemy conceled. The dream eneded. As I ponder the dream, I think the enemy soldiers are my addictions. No matter what we do in life, we must remain constantly on guard. I obviously need a weapon, use all the steps in using the weapon, and take-out the enemy one by one. I'm currently loosing my composure as I type this. I'm feeling a lot of hate right now. Sorry. Out here.
Tags: Dream Watchful Addiction
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