2010, can I get a refund?

This is the time of year when we think back and say "Damn, that was pretty stupid," or maybe "I really rocked it this time."

Either way, we can all agree that we lived through it, and things were done, some for good, and some for awesome. Mistakes may have been made.

This time last year, I was fully ensnared in active drug addiction, buying, selling, using. I don't even remember New Year's eve. It was a day like any other. I woke up, bought a bunch of drugs, sold some, used some, and went to sleep.

When I say I don't remember it, I'm not saying that I went to a party and got so fucked up I blacked out. I'm saying I literally have no idea, what so ever, what the fuck I did for New Year's. I don't know where I was or who I was with.

All I can say for certain is that drugs and strippers were most definitely involved in a major capacity.

After the New Year started, things are a little clearer.

Early in January, I got arrested with a bunch of Roxys (hydrocodone), morphine, xanax, and marijuana in my possession.

There was that and a little bit of beer in my system at the time. They put me in a "turtle suit" which is this velcro tunic thing made out of quilted green padding, and locked me in "the bubble", a detox/psych wing of the county jail with a plexiglass wall. My cellmate had been there for twelve weeks, I fell asleep on the thin quilted blanket, still wet from the laundry, on the concrete floor.

My girlfriend bonded me out, and I lost my mind, my income, the whole point of my life, pretty much. An emotional wreck, still smoking weed, taking unprescribed xanax, and drinking, I oscillated between rage and tears at the slightest provocation, doing my best to stay as high as possible as much as possible.

I'd only spent six hours in jail, but I knew that it was six more hours than I ever wanted to spend there.

Since I had to lay low, I started writing again, and recording myself reading. I burst into tears the first time I recited "I Wanna Dance Like Gene Kelley" It was the first time in several years I recited one of my poems out loud, and the feelings it stirred were uncontrollable.

Following that, I spent a month or two working on recording methods to produce "Twisted Princesses" sixteen tracks of poetry about love, sex, and dysfunctional relationships, which is also available as a free ebook.

While messing around with reading and audio production, I took my poem about drug addiction and put it to an electronic beat "Chemical Rhinoplasty" there are more songs and readings available for free download on that reverbnation site, as well.

All that paled in comparison to my most ambitious project to date, releasing "Guacamole Baseball" as both a trade paperback and an eBook. In my recent insanity, I've actually made the ebook available for free to folks that sign up to receive email updates from my blog.

Then I went to court, and managed to get admitted to the county's "Drug Court" program. The one good thing that I can say came out of that experience is that they forced me to attend my first NA meetings, which is where I started thinking that maybe I didn't have to use drugs any more to feel okay about myself.

Of course, it didn't take, at first, I was arressted in January, and I didn't stop using drugs till May 14th. They kicked me out of drug court the first week in July, and I left my girlfriend to focus on maintaining my recovery and getting my life together.

It's been a hell of a ride.

Sometime in all of that I came up with some new characters. Sarah, the Mermaid of Mercy Street, and Buck Gabriel, being the most notable. The novels are still in progress. Recovery is an act of breaking down the ego and rediscovering your true self, aside from all the bullshit. Since my perspective has been shifting during this process, it has been difficult to write from any place of authority or true comfort.

I used to just fire up a blunt and let loose some bullshit. Now I second-guess myself and get distracted with easier tasks, like arguing with feminists.

A surprising development has been that my style is becoming far more minimalist than before, as is evident in my short story about alien visitors, "Brand X" and sporadic bouts of what I consider some of my best and most honest poetry.

But it has been done in fits and spurts, and little to actual completion.

So for 2011, I'm not holding back. I'm committing myself to making time each and every day to work on a novel or new poem, or both. I'm also re-entering the workforce, as I've been living off the state and the largess of the VA the past couple of months.

It's been very helpful, but it's time to take my life back. I am on felony probation with drug conditions until August, and after that, the world is my oyster.

So you, dear readers, thanks for sticking with me through this tumultuous process, and if you didn't, fuck you, but I love you anyways.

Please, if you're liking what I'm bringing, let me know. You can comment on the blog through disqus, and there are links to my twitter and facebook feeds in the upper right corner of every page here.

Even better, if you like something on the blog, share it with a friend, and let them glimpse a little bit of the madness.

That small encouragement is the nourishment that feeds the creative spirit, to know that somebody out there digs it and might want to see what else is waiting to well up inside.

In closing, life is better, much better, without drugs in them. For the first time in twenty years, I'm starting to actually get a little bit of an idea of who I am and what I stand for. It's frightening and fabulous, and if you're strong enough to try it, I recommend it to anyone else out there who has to rely on dope to cope.

And if you could spare some change, I've got a week to raise $10 to keep my .com domain functioning.

Love,
Jason