when i first came to recovery, i learned that we stop growing emotionally at the age when we first began to using. it's not ironic that one of the first books i picked up when new to recovery was a set of daily inspirations and meditation titled "chicken soup for the teenage soul."
this was one of the first passages i read when embraced recovery. tonight i came home from work and fixed a pot of chicken soup. what's written below is from the above referenced book and perhaps will touch you soul.
namaste'
sammy
___________
Don't be fooled by me. Don't be fooled by the face I wear. For I wear a mask, I wear a thousand masks, masks that I am afraid to take off, and none of them are me. Pretending is an art that is second nature with me, but don't be fooled, for God's sake don't be fooled. I give you the impression that I'm secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within me as well as without, that confidence is my name and coolness my game, that the water's calm and I'm in command, and that I need no one. But don't believe me, please.
My surface may seem smooth, but my surface is my mask, my ever-warying ever-concealing mask. Beneath lies no smugness, no complacence. Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in fear, in aloneness. But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear being exposed. That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant, sophisticated facade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is precisely my salvation. My only salvation, and I know it. That is if it is followed by acceptance, if it is followed by love. It's the only thing that liberates me, from myself, from my own self-built prison walls, from barriers that I so painstakingly erect.
It's the only thing that will assure me of what I can't assure myself, that I'm really worth something. But I don't tell you this. I don't dare. I'm afraid to. I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me. I'm afraid that deep down I'm nothing, that I'm just no good, and that you will see this and reject me. So I play the game, my desperate pretending game, with a facade of assurance without, and a trembling child within.
And so begins the parade of masks, and my life becomes a front. I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that is really nothing. And nothing of what is everything, of what is crying within me. So when I'm going through my routine do not be fooled by what I'm saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying, what I'd like to be able to say, what for survival I need to say, but what I can't say. I dislike hiding. Honestly. I dislike the superficial game I'm playing, the superficial, phony game. I'd really like to be genuine and spontaneous, and me, but you've got to help me.
You've got to hold out your hand even when that's the last thing I seem to want, or need. Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead. Only you can call me into aliveness. Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings, very feeble wings, but wings. With your sensitivity and empathy, and your power to understanding, you can breathe life into me. I want you to know that.
I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be a co-creator of the person that is me if you choose to. Please choose to. You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble. You alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic and uncertainty, from my lonely prison. So do no pass me by. It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach me, the blinder I strike back. I fight against the very thing that I cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls, and in this lies my hope ... my only hope.
Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands, but with gentle hands, for a child is very sensitive. Who am I you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. For I am every man and I am every woman you meet.
sammy wow that is to strange that is the book my 12 year old son just started reading today,god does work in mysterious ways.take care...........vinny.
Hey Dear Sammy-
Your words about the age you remain when you start using really struck a chord with me. When I was 16 or 17, I was into pot and alcohol. I got clean a few years later, and it was just like I hadn't grown one iota emotionally.
I'm so glad you posted that and validated what I had suspected!
You are my American Idol!
Your words about the age you remain when you start using really struck a chord with me. When I was 16 or 17, I was into pot and alcohol. I got clean a few years later, and it was just like I hadn't grown one iota emotionally.
I'm so glad you posted that and validated what I had suspected!
You are my American Idol!
thanks you so much for that post, i really needed to hear that today.
{{{hugs}}}
carol
{{{hugs}}}
carol
sammy,
how funny, i read that one too!!! every year i buy my kids a book for christmas and i had bought that one for paige and i write to them on the cover. it was a great inspiring book, one of the better of the seriies. that one and the college one. this year i bought them the hugs series. "hugs for teenagers and for my son "hugs for kids" they are sorta like the chicken soup books but they have poems and some fiction and some bible inspiration as well. wow thanks for reminding me about that one. definately the kid in me related to the teenage soul book. even more so then the shicken soup for the mothers soul lol
terrianne
how funny, i read that one too!!! every year i buy my kids a book for christmas and i had bought that one for paige and i write to them on the cover. it was a great inspiring book, one of the better of the seriies. that one and the college one. this year i bought them the hugs series. "hugs for teenagers and for my son "hugs for kids" they are sorta like the chicken soup books but they have poems and some fiction and some bible inspiration as well. wow thanks for reminding me about that one. definately the kid in me related to the teenage soul book. even more so then the shicken soup for the mothers soul lol
terrianne
Not only does this still apply to me to some extent, but what a wonderful reminder for anyone raising teenagers. I needed to read this today.... and tomorrow.....and he next day after that.....
Thanks Sammy.
Thanks Sammy.
