I am watching an Intervention special on heroin use in teens in New England. In Brockton, Massachusetts, in 3.5 years almost 150 teenagers died of opiate overdoses. That's almost one child per week. The numbers are astounding. A local paper wrote an expose on the epidemic and leading state health officials say if the local communities, educators and parents do not make a concerted effort to reach the middle and high school students, the region will likely lose a generation of children. Listening to the stories of these young people makes me realize just how lucky I am.
It's partly horrifying, shocking, yet unsurprising. Drug usage amongst teenagers has been slowly been on the rise for years. Today's teenagers are not the first to experiment with drugs. The youth of the 60s were equally adventurous with drugs but today's youth face stronger and purer drugs and extraordinary lack of parental oversight.
Usually, Intervention makes me feel better about myself. When I think of my problems in the midst of hearing the tragedy of an addict's life, I realize my life's not so bad. It helps me to put things in perspective. I rent a one-bedroom apartment in a nice neighborhood in downtown Brooklyn. (For now, anyways. I am 3 weeks late on my rent and terrified that I will get evicted.) I have food to eat and clothes, etc. Life is not so bad, right?
5.18.2009
fears of failure
I have so much "going for me" and nothing to show for it. Nothing ever really succeeds with me. I constantly live with the fears of failure because I know it hovers in my shadows.
5.19.2008
An Unemployed Sinner
Well, I am currently uemployed at the moment. Again. And a bit pissed off about it this time! For the past year and a half, I have been working for a really shitty employer, a British firm offering compliance services. In the time I was employed with this company, I was the Receptionist, Office Manager, Travel Coordinator, Finance & HR Assistant, and Executive Assistant to Chief Executive Officer and the Chief Marketing Officer. I gave a 110% and lived paycheck to paycheck. It was a shitty job that I took in a moment of weakness and paid with my sanity each and every day.
This is certainly the job that everyone tells you that the termination is a blessing in disguise...and they are completely right. Yet my mounting bills, unpaid rent, and financial\mental stability is telling me otherwise. I have been holding the stress and anxiety at bay with the help of some distracting friends, but I could erupt at any moment, and it won't be pretty. I am not looking forward to this moment and I pray to God, that it does not come to that. Speaking of which...
It is in these moments, unemployed and anxious, that I wonder how different my life would be had I continued to be a regular, faithful church goer. My mother unfailing asks me to go to church in almost all of our conversations. And because I love her and want to tell her what she wants to hear, I give her false hope as if I will go. Sometimes in those moments, I really believe I will commit to the action and go through with it. I will get dressed and walk to the nearest church with evening services and go through the door. So far, in the past decade, I have promised every time, but have never actually followed through with my vows. Of course, I feel guilty about my repeated broken but I don't regret my need to I give her false hope. I am not ready for her know how little hope I have in my heart, and I think one of these days, I will stick to my promise.
With regards to my character, on the other hand, I feel it would be completely hyprocritical of me to go to church to ask for help because I am need. If I go, I want it to be of my own volition and desire for redemption.
Now you can see the quandry to to this issue: Do I go to church to make my mother happy, or do I wait until I feel the compulsion?
In either case: My mother just says that God would appreciate the effort. Maybe she's right. Probably.
This is certainly the job that everyone tells you that the termination is a blessing in disguise...and they are completely right. Yet my mounting bills, unpaid rent, and financial\mental stability is telling me otherwise. I have been holding the stress and anxiety at bay with the help of some distracting friends, but I could erupt at any moment, and it won't be pretty. I am not looking forward to this moment and I pray to God, that it does not come to that. Speaking of which...
It is in these moments, unemployed and anxious, that I wonder how different my life would be had I continued to be a regular, faithful church goer. My mother unfailing asks me to go to church in almost all of our conversations. And because I love her and want to tell her what she wants to hear, I give her false hope as if I will go. Sometimes in those moments, I really believe I will commit to the action and go through with it. I will get dressed and walk to the nearest church with evening services and go through the door. So far, in the past decade, I have promised every time, but have never actually followed through with my vows. Of course, I feel guilty about my repeated broken but I don't regret my need to I give her false hope. I am not ready for her know how little hope I have in my heart, and I think one of these days, I will stick to my promise.
With regards to my character, on the other hand, I feel it would be completely hyprocritical of me to go to church to ask for help because I am need. If I go, I want it to be of my own volition and desire for redemption.
Now you can see the quandry to to this issue: Do I go to church to make my mother happy, or do I wait until I feel the compulsion?
In either case: My mother just says that God would appreciate the effort. Maybe she's right. Probably.
I don't know where to begin
I am not sure how to begin writing my memoir. While, it has been something I have thought about doing for years, I have never been sure where to start. Should I start with the present and work my way back? Or do I begin with the past and move to the present, in a typical fashion?
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