Heroes and Villians
I found an old blog I had started in 2016 when life slipped into quite a turmoil. I am copying them and posting them here, more for me to find and reference. This is the blog posts from 2016.
Posted on February 1, 2016 by Steven Mather
Well I am stepping into 2016. I am starting a blog. These are my mindless meanderings. The reality or lack there of, that exists only in my head as seen only through my eyes! Some of the things that make me go hmmmmm. Todays thoughts are about something that has weighed heavily on my mind recently.
My daughters were ripped apart by one of their boyfriends dog and a whole lot of bullshit was tossed around in the press. I wasn’t there myself, but I have heard the girls talk about the attack, I have heard the 911 tape and I raised my kids with dogs and cats and to respect animals and the sanctity of life. So this is what I have to say about it.
My girls loved Yogi. He is a 3 year old Rottweiler Husky Cross, that belonged to Kati’s boyfriend. They have known and played with, fed and walked Yogi since he was 7 weeks old. My daughter Kati took yogi to the park with her twin sister Jessi and Jessi’s 3 yr old son Jayden. They had taken Yogi to the park many times, and Jayden to the park many times but this was the first time all together.
When they got to the park, they tied Yogi to a tree while they played with Jayden on the playground for a few minutes. When they were done playing with Jayden, my daughter Kati went and untied Yogi from the tree. Whenever Yogi would act up she would pull on the leash and make him sit until he would behave and then they would start walking again. She was trying to do this at the park, but Yogi twisted and pulled out of his harness. When she kneeled down and called him over to put his leash on, he bit her arm breaking it and locking his jaws. That is when Jessi saw the blood on Katis arm starting to pool up and called 911. Kati was petting Yogi with her left hand while he growled and kept his teeth sunk into her arm. She tried to talj him into letting go, telling him it was ok, and to let go. 911 asks Jessi if she needs an ambulance. Jessi asks Kati if she needs one just as Kati tears her arm out of his mouth ripping her bicep off as Yogi starts to attack. Jessi yells yess to 911 and starts to describe the attack, saying that she has her 3 year old son and cant help. She started taking Jayden to safety, when Yogi leaves Kati and attacks after Jayden. As the dog attacks Kati gets up and runs to help. Jessi takes down Yogi while Kati grabs Jayden and starts running him to safety. Yogi chews up Jessi’s legs and arms and when Jessi is down he turns again after Jayden. Jessi gets up running and while Kati takes down Yogi, Jessi again grabs Jayden and starts to run. At this point a neighbour who has heard them screaming hopped his fence and tried to stop Yogi, who at this point is tearing Kati apart, biting her over and over again. Ken Brodie, kicks Yogi a few times and tries to pull Yogi off Kati, but gets his hand chewed up badly and had to run home to get it bandaged. Two other people arrived but were too distraught by the blood and the vicousness of the attack, they were unable to do much. They at least distracted Yogi for a few minutes which meant a few less bites Kati took.
Kati talked about how she had just given up and quit fighting realizing that she was about to die, but at least she knew she had saved her nephew. Even at the point she felt she was about to die, she was proud she had saved her nephew. The truth is she did. She should be proud. Her and her sister did save Jayden. He didnt get one bite. While she was lying there in disbelief that the dog she loved would do this to her, and thinking it was over, the police arrived. The first officer that arrived jumped over Kati and took on Yogis attack. She pulled her gun and fired at Yogi three times before he ran off.
Jessi had her legs ripped open and her arms bruised up. She was rushed along with Ken Brodie to Richmond General Hospital to get their wounds stitched up. Kati was rushed to Vancouver General as a code 3, critical emergency. She took over 100 bites to her body, with a broken arm and a detached bicep. She took so many bites that they had to get her to the hospital before she bled out. She actually did almost give her life. Had she have taken more bites, had people not tried to intervene, had the police and ambulance not arrived when they did, I would be writing about my daughter that died a hero.
She is still a hero. They are both hero’s that put themselves in harms way to make sure that a child didn’t get hurt. They didn’t hesitate, they didn’t think twice. They did what hero’s do, they ran into the emergency with no thought of their own safety.
When the news first published their stories, they had them right. They wrote about 2 young ladies that did something heroic in a moment of terror and horror. They made me incredibly proud, because this shows the core of their being, and dispite any flaws my daughters may have this made me very proud.
Here are links to some of the stories.
http://www.ctvnews.ca/canada/b-c-sisters-recovering-after-dog-attack-1.2720950
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/kati-mather-richmond-dog-attack-1.3386923
https://ca.news.yahoo.com/kati-mather-richmond-dog-attack-212902849.html
This is all I have for today, but it is far from the end of this story. Love and light to you all!
Wow!
Posted on February 5, 2016 by Steven Mather
They put Yogi down yesterday. It was a sad day for a lot of people, and the day for the start of a lot of healing for others hopefully. The haters made sure that my daughters knew they were hatin. They made sure they spewed negativity at them. Saying things like “I wish the dog would have killed you!” “Saw the photos of the your wounds, too bad he didn’t get your face too!” and other hurtful ignorant things. I went over to visit my girls last night and they were hurting. Kati was extremely upset, and emotional.
What everyone forgets is that she too loved Yogi. She doesnt know why he turned on her, all she knows is that he did. Most of the pictures used for the “save yogi” campaign were her photos. She had loved Yogi like he was her own dog, and having him attack like he did was brutal enough on her physically and mentally, I cant imagine having to put up with the haters too.
Kati said to me last night “What they all don’t understand, is that everything they are going through, so am I! I loved yogi more than they did. I feel all the same feelings as them, and I get to deal with being hated by them For something that Yogi did that was beyond my control. I didnt want this! I didnt ask to be ripped apart. I just wish he would have killed me so everyone could be happy!”
Wow! How messed up is that! My heart aches when I see the pain that radiates from her broken heart and soul! All I can do is love her and tell her that this too shall pass. She is covered with physical scars, she is suffering from emotional scars, and as if that isnt enough she has to deal with the negative energy of the haters, compounding everything she is already going through! Wow! I don’t wish that on anyone. It hurts my heart just to see it, I cant’t imagine living through it! Wow! So for today I am sending extra love and healing energy to the girls and all who need it. Love and light my friends!
Season’s Beatings!
Posted on March 10, 2016 by Steven Mather
I still remember the first fight I was ever in. I was in grade 5. We lived on the Indian Reserve in a trailer park in Kamloops BC. I have an older brother that use to like fighting, and I had seen him win lots, and he made it look easy.
It was a cold winters day, we were skating on the outdoor rink, just a bunch of kids having fun. One of the trailer park owners kids Chucky, came to the rink and wasn’t wearing skates. He had just come down to bug people, and he was successful. He started to pick on one of the smaller kids and made him cry. I skated over and told him to stop. He told me to f off and pushed me. I have never been good on skates and ended up on my ass. I angrily jumped up and told him to F off and he just socked me in the mouth and down I went. I got up and headed home determined to take off the skates, put on my shoes and come back and teach him a lesson. I went home put my shoes on and went back! When I got there I called him out and we went at it. He proceeded to beat my ass! I went home like a wounded puppy, tail between my legs, bruised and bloody. My brother went back and beat up Chucky, and then told everyone “Nobody beats up my brother but me!” Thanks bro… I think.
The first time I was ever jumped by a bunch of guys was also in Kamloops. It was grade 9 or 10. I was on my way home from a soccer practice. I was walking down the street when I saw a group of about 10 guys up ahead and my intuition said it was a situation to avoid, so I crossed the street walking in front of the drive in theater entrance and then turned left to cut across the dirt field beside the drive in. I heard a voice behind me say “hey”. I didn’t look back I just kept walking. I heard footsteps coming up behind me and a voice said “I’m calling you!” as an arm came over my shoulder grabbing me by the hair pulling my face down to catch his knee a few times. He then started punching me in the face while the rest of the gang caught up. That was my introduction to an asswipe named Lee Kilty! He then held my head down and yelled at the others to kick me. A few of them kicked me pretty good in the face, and a few of them, guys I had thought were friends from school, tried to not kick me too hard in the face. One of them said to leave me alone, and Lee went off on him saying kick him or we will kick you too, so he kicked me in the face too. Some guys at the drive in came running to the fence and yelled at them to leave me alone, and Lee let go of me ran up to the fence and started challenging them. One of the gang, a guy named Rocky, leaned over my bloody beat up face and whispered “If your gonna run do it now. Go go!” He didn’t have to tell me twice I was fricken gone.
When I got home my parents called the police and my brother and a few of the Osborne brothers, our neighbors and friends went looking for them. The police took all the info, the docs checked me out and stitched my lip, said I was battered and bruised but would be ok. My brother and our neighbors didn’t find the gang, but they did find one of the guys, slapped him around and told him to let the rest know that I was out of bounds for them, and if anyone touched me again they would get a beatdown, cuz “Nobody beats up my brother but me!” Thanks again bro…. I think.
A few days later the police arrived to say that they had Lee. They told my parents that I was the lucky one out of 3 kids beat up by them that day. One poor guy was on his way home from a ball game, and Lee used the kids bat to smack him in the side of the head. That poor kid was probably going to be deaf, and suffer brain damage. The other had been beaten to hospitalization as well. Oh lucky me!
For some reason the police never charged him for the assault on me. Some bullshit about him being from an abusive family, and charges already being laid blah blah blah. I don’t give two shits if your from an abusive family, it does not mean you get to go out and abuse others! You should know first hand how horrible it is, and you have the ability to end the cycle of abuse and start new beginnings! It is not a valid excuse! I have learned as I got older that this would effect me for life, both the beating, and not having anything done about it. It definitely taught me that acquaintance’s are not friends, and one needs to learn to protect themselves because there truly are evil people out there that want to hurt innocent people. Thanks for the lesson’s… I think.
The second time I got beatdown by a gang was years later at a rock club in Vancouver. It was a rockin place called Club Soda where through out it’s time I got to meet, gig and party with a lot of rockstars. I was there one night watching the band Smash LA, when a fight broke out on the dance floor. Some guy was getting ready to throw a chair at the band when the singer, Johnny Harley, came flying off the stage and started hammering the guy. A bunch of other guys jumped in, the rest of the band dived in and a brawl broke out. I turned to say something to my buddy Ian, but he was gone. Somebody had grabbed him from behind and sent him headfirst backwards down the back stairwell. I was looking around when all of a sudden something smashed me in the face and I was knocked out. ( I would later find out from a friend who said “wow, couldn’t believe you were getting up after he smashed that chair on your face” that that is what happened.) As I came to, I realized I was face down on the floor and a fight was raging all around me. I went to stand up and all I saw was a Dayton Boot tee off on my face knocking me out again. The next thing I remember was being in a back room with ambulance people flashing a light into my eyes asking me questions while they tried to stop my face from bleeding. The chair had put my teeth through my lips and cheek. The boot had closed my right eye and it was so swollen and fat, I could see the swelling with my left eye. They took me to the hospital, where I sat for hours with no attention because I had no medical. At some point some friends showed up to see how I was doing, and decided it would be better to take me home as no one was going to look at me anyway, but I couldn’t leave with out some one to look after me. A doc came over and told them I had a concussion and should not be allowed to sleep, and then he changed a couple of the bandages that the ambulance guys had done and they sent me home.
I had no idea what the future would hold, but I would find out later that a dear friend of mine would have a son with the brother of the guy that laid the boots to me, and Karma would take care of him anyway. He hung himself a few years later at Christmas. Nice Christmas present to leave your wife and kids! This was in an era where cocaine and alcohol ran rampant, steroids were being introduced and freebasing was just starting. I ended up watching a lot of friends and musicians lose everything, including their lives over the next few years.
The last time I got a good beating was many years and 3 kids later. I was living in Richmond, had my kids half time, rotating week by week. I had taken a job as a djay at a nearby strip club for a few years, and when I left the gig I was able to get a couple of friends in there to djay. I was stopping in to visit one of my buddies and say hello. I was hanging with him at the djay booth when we decided to step out. While we were outside I saw a couple of guys come out that I had known when djaying and called them over. They came over and one of them grabbed me by the throat, pushed me up against the wall and started punching me in the face talking about me owing someone money, that I had ripped these guys off and was going to pay. I gotta say, it took me by surprise! It also took my buddy by surprise. He went to step in and the other guy grabbed him and said stay out of it. I told the guy that was punching me in the face that he had the wrong guy. He said “wrong answer!” and punched me again. It is amazing how many things go through your mind when you are confronted with something traumatic and violent. I had known this guy through the bar, and knew he was a tuff guy with biker connections, and could tell that even though he was punching me in the face it wasn’t as hard as he could. He punched me a few more times yelling “When are you going to pay them back!” I kept saying “you have the wrong guy!” and he would punch me a few more times and yell “wrong answer!” Lot’s of things went through my mind, the first being “How stupid are you? Your standing there in front of me with your legs spread apart and your nuts wide open, if I knee you in the balls and then gouge your eyes out… !” Then “‘If ya do that this is gonna escalate big time, and it is not you he even wants! He is looking for an answer, give him what he wants to hear… ” And then I heard myself say “Ok Ok, I will pay, I will pay!” He released his clamp on my neck and asked “when?” I said as soon as I can, how much do I owe?” He said “2000 dollars and you better pay it soon or I am coming back! Nobody rips off my friends!” I said to him, your gonna feel pretty stupid when you find out I am actually the wrong guy! He said “Just fucken pay so I don’t have to do it again!” Then him and his buddy went back into the bar. My buddy looked at me and said “What the fuck just happened? Who did you rip off?” I looked at him smiled and said “He has the wrong guy!” My buddy asked why I said I would pay? I told him it was the magic words! That was all he was listening for and it worked, he let me go. My face was bruised, swollen and bloody, and my buddy said “I have to go back inside and djay, do you want me to call an ambulance?” I said “No, I have been beaten way worse by worse guys, I will survive!” We both walked into the club, he went to the djay booth and I headed over to the bar where my friends were working. They took one look at me and asked what had happened. I told them, and they went and told the guy that had punched me out, that I was the wrong guy. Yes my name was Steve, yes I had djayed at the club, but no I wasn’t the one that had ripped off the guys. I had been right, he felt pretty stupid! I went to the bathroom and cleaned up the blood, saw how bad my face was and decided I should just go home. This happened in early December. I was having a tough year financially and had come to the conclusion it would be a very slim Christmas for me and my kids. I was kinda running in the downer mood category, bumming that I couldn’t find enough gigs to make things more comfortable, but knowing we would get by. It was about a week before Christmas, I had wrapped up the few small presents that I could afford and put them under the tree. It was a lonely week, as the kids were at their moms that week. I would sit out by the tree and look at the presents and pray that I would have an awesome Christmas with my kids and the presents didn’t matter! It did, to me, and I have to say I felt like a failure father! It was in the late afternoon just before Christmas, when I heard a knock at my door. When I answered it I was surprised to see the guy that had punched me out. He said sorry over and over and I told him it was ok. He had the wrong guy but he was just trying to help his buddies that had been ripped off. It was all good! He asked me to come out to his car, and he proceeded to pull out a huge pile of presents, including a giant white teddy bear! He told me that he couldn’t take back what he had done, but that he could try to make Christmas good for my kids! I actually cried! I thanked him and shook his hand. It ended up being an awesome Christmas for the family. The kids got a pile iof presents, and they even got to give their mother a giant white teddy bear which made them extra excited. They were so happy, it still brings tears of joy to my eyes.
When I told my friend Gord Foster what had happened I said “Man, if all I gotta do is take a few punches in the head for my kids to have an awesome Christmas.. I will roll with the punches!” Gord looked at me and said “Seasons Beatings!” and we laughed and laughed, and every year we still laugh!
Love and light always!
In the depths of depression, I found love!
Posted on March 7, 2016 by Steven Mather
Lately people have been telling me that I am brave and courageous for writing my blog. I thank you for the kind words, but I am neither. I am just another person trying to live, love and learn. I am you!
What you see in me is a reflection of yourself. You are brave and courageous! I am no different than you! I am just writing down my truth. It helps me to organize the endless chatter going on in my head, and if it can help some one going through something similar, why would I not help? If I can help someone to better understand a situation, why would I not? That is one of our most valuable resources! Helping, sharing, loving, that is life! The real brave and courageous people are the ones continuing to struggle with depression, addiction and mental health issues! To those of you I freely give my love, compassion and understanding. ❤️💕❤️💕
As many of you know, my year started out pretty harsh, and surrounding circumstance caused me to fall back into that ever waiting darkness we call depression. After I had my meltdown, and I realized where I was, I decided to use my analytical self to become the watcher. I started to analyze the voices chattering in my head. I started to look around at my depression. I started to analyze the walls of the prison I was building for my brain. I would watch as pressure would mount, the walls close in and the room get smaller, the chattering getting louder and the fear more over whelming. I analyzed the vibrations I felt and the vibrations I created.
What I discovered is that the deeper I allowed myself to fall, the more I came alive! It opened my ability to be sensitive and understanding of situations that I previously could not! It opened me to a level of love and pain that was previously unattainable. What I did not understand was the universe was giving me what I had been praying and asking for.
Until that point I could not understand my daughters situation. I would get mad when discussing or thinking about the addiction and the drugs. I would close my mind because I was incapable of resonating at the frequency of love and understanding that is required to help and support a person with addiction depression or mental health issues. I could learn about them and talk about them, but I could not feel them or resonate with them. They were not part of my truth. Boy did the fricken change!
When I would find myself crying, I quit analyzing why I was crying. I buried myself in my tears, I welcomed them, i bathed myself in the emotion that immersed my soul at those moments. I felt the beauty of being able to feel those depths of love and despair. As far as we can fall, we have the ability to climb.
I was experiencing emotions and frequencies previously untouchable by me. I took joy in the ability to feel the vibrations of the depression. The people that fall the farthest resonate with an overabundance of universal love! Their chatter in their heads is so overwhelming that it masks their ability to hear and feel it in their own lives. A great example of this is Robin Williams. He resonated, vibrated and shared so much love he lit up a planet, but it was being delivered from an endless pit of depression. How is that possible if he was not buried and immersed in universal love?
A few years ago a friend committed suicide. She was a beautiful soul, she was a singer, a dancer, a performer and an actor. One of the greatest roles she ever played, was the smiling happy beautiful girl smiling and generating happiness everywhere she would go. Little did we know that she to was delivering from the pit of despair and depression. Everyone loved her, she made you smile immediately. Unfortunately the chatter in her head would not allow her to surround herself with that same love, and now We only get to enjoy her company in memory! We all love and miss you Kimmy!
Please if you are reading this and are battling depression, addiction or mental health problems, please ask for help. There is so much love in this universe and you only need to ask! I love you, we love you, the universe loves you!
If you are reading this and know someone going through troubled times, please share this with them, love them and believe in them.
May your day be filled with peace love and understanding! I am truly humbled and honored to be able to share my mindless chatter with you!
Life isn’t worth dying over!
Posted on March 6, 2016 by Steven Mather
As some of you may know myself and my family have been going through a rough time for the past while. I know that everyone has them, and ours are no more or no less than anyone else’s.
I have generally been a pretty positive and loving person for my whole life, other than a period during my divorce. My first experience dealing with depression happened when my ex and I split up and our family was broken. I had always thought of myself as the guy that could fix things, and when I discovered that I wasn’t a superman I was just another crazy guy in a cape I really wasn’t ready for it. I had spent my whole life believing I was one thing and when I discovered I wasn’t, my brain didn’t know how to take it. I got served divorce papers that as I read them they talked about this horrible abusive person, and I was getting mad at that person as I read more and more. When I got to the end, I realized that it was me…. I was being accused of being that horrible guy! My brain started to analyze everything, my past my present and my future. I started to doubt who I was, and investigate and research whether I actually was this horrible abusive person.
That was the beginning of my downward spiral. My brain had a really hard time putting the pieces together, and as more papers came it made me out to be worse and worse. I was being told that I wasn’t a worthy father, and didn’t deserve the right to have my children or any say over their lives. At the time my doubting self started to believe all the stuff being said, and my spiral down got worse. It was all new to me. I found myself bummed out, always in my head with too much info that I couldn’t comprehend. I found myself crying, and while crying I would be thinking to myself “I don’t feel like crying, what the hell! Suck it up Princess, your the “Mayhem”, pick yourself up, dust yourself off and get back in the game!” Except I couldn’t. I had no idea what was going on in my head or my life. Things got worse and worse for me as the days passed. I found myself arguing with the voices in my head, and constantly bursting into tears. I found I didn’t want to socialize with or talk to anyone. Things went bad at my job, and I started to get buried under mass pressure from upper management, and really found I had no place to go to get away from my life. What I found was I couldn’t make any decisions, because I was unsure what was right or wrong to do, so I tried to do nothing and make no decisions.
It was a Thursday evening and I decided to go downtown and just wander around, observing and thinking. I stopped in at a little club ion Granville street and decided to have a few drinks. I stayed for a while, and had a few too many. I decided to do some walking so I started over the Granville bridge. As I was crossing the bridge one of Mayhem’s bright ideas was “Hey, let the universe work things out for you. You should walk the railing, if it is suppose to end here, you will fall into the water, if it isn’t suppose to end you will make it across.” Not the smartest idea, but hey I was swimming in depression and had no idea! Amazingly I actually was able to walk the railing, and when I look at that railing now, I wonder how I didn’t fall. It is not a flat railing, and I had to work my way around light posts. When I got to the middle, one of the voices in my head, which I have since named Captain Stupid (he is the voice with the dumb ideas), suggested that I just end it all and jump! I stood on the rail holding on to a lamp post, and stared down into the water. Captain Stupid was gabbing away, and I noticed there was another voice in my head arguing with Captain Stupid. If there is two voices in my head arguing, who the hell is listening?
As I stood there staring down at the water a vision of my 3 kids appeared. The 2nd voice said to me, “Your writing the story of their father. You are about to write the ending. Is this the story you are going to leave for your kids to tell? The story of their father is gonna end with you leaving your kids with “my dad committed suicide? ”
Look around you, whether you jump or whether you get down off this railing, everything has already changed! If you are ready to die, then who can hurt you anymore? Tell everyone to F off, and get fighting for your children! They need their father. Go ahead and hate yourself, but you don’t have the right to hate their father.” Everything was different from that moment! That voice let me see a different perspective. I jumped down off the railing and walked home.
The next day I went to my doctor and told him what had happened, how I was feeling and that I would randomly break into tears, and that I couldn’t seem to fix myself. He called a psychiatrist while I was there and they started discussing me and my situation and the fact I had contemplated suicide. They came to the conclusion that I was clinically depressed and discussed putting me in the hospital. It was at this point that I informed them that I was still in the room. They decided to include me in the conversation, and I suggested that now that I knew what was going on, and that any thoughts of suicide were not going to be acted upon, as that was why I was there, that the doc could give me some happy pills and I would go home and learn about clinical depression, do some work and would come back in a couple of days and we would discuss things again. I went home and started surfing the internet for info on clinical depression. I learned that it is a brutal place for a person to be, but that there were things I could do. I started taking melatonin, 5htp, multivitamins, and changed my diet to a healthier format, with more veggies, fruit and juice. I started exercising, I started walking, lots. I would walk for hours on end, along the waters edge, acknowledging the water, the sky, the birds, and myself. I started doing affirmations.
When I went to the docs a few days later he said I was doing really well. That I was still depressed but he didn’t think I was in that desperate clinical state anymore. He set me up with a psychologist and a psychiatrist, and my healing began. The shitty thing was, my family was still broken up, I had lost my job, and I still didn’t have any rights to my kids.
It didn’t matter, it just meant I had to get to work for the sake of my children and their father. After meeting with various lawyers I realized that I didn’t have the finances for one, and that I didn’t like the way they wanted to make things confrontational. Nobody wins in a divorce. Everyone loses, some one might get all the stuff, but stuff is just stuff, it can be replaced. What matters is the family, the children and the energy that is passed and thrown around during the timeframe that it takes to get things worked out.
I decided I would have to be my own lawyer, (I know, a person that represents himself has a fool for a client!). I bought a copy of the divorce act and the family relations act and buried myself in learning them inside out. I started going to divorce court regularly, watching custody case after custody case. I would go and stand behind lawyers as they would discuss their clients and the divorce. What I learned was that if you want to know the real legal meaning of words, you needed to have access to a dictionary called “Blacks Law Dictionary.” It was way too expensive for me to get a copy but I found out there was one at the law library downtown. You cant take it out, but you can use it there. It is the only real meanings to words that have bearings on our lives, and the definitions of lots of words are not anything like the dictionaries that you get for English class. I also learned that a lot of lawyers (not all) are pretty scummy manipulative people. They try to keep both parties angry at each other, fighting, and not speaking to each other. The bigger the fight, the more the anger, the longer it will take to settle things, and of course more money they will make.
While reading the family relations act and the divorce act I learned something profound. Every where in the acts it would talk about everything having to be in the best interest of the child or children. Something I was not seeing put into practice in the courts. I discovered it was because of the lawyers. If one does or says something not in the best interest of the children, nobody does or says anything about it, so it wont be stopped. Someone has to stand up for the kids or they will lose. It was at that point that I figured something out. I would not represent myself, I did not know what was right for me, but I did know what was right for the children. I had been studying and learning that. I decided that I would represent and fight for my children’s rights. These rights are fully documented and written in the court room rule books. I learned that I had magic words I could use whenever the judge and my exes lawyer would talk and try to make decisions. When the judge would turn to me after stating his piece and ask if I understood?, I would reply “No. Can you please explain how that is in the best interest of my children?” If they couldn’t it would get changed to something that was in the best interest of my kids. I learned to start saying “my children have the right to…” and keep my focus on them. If it is good and right for them, how can it be wrong for me?
I also discovered that every judgement made in court in the last few years was accessible on the internet. I went crazy! I downloaded every judgement that my judge had made in every divorce custody case in the last two years. I then went through them piece by piece, finding anything that was similar to ours. I highlighted everything that I agreed with. I went through hundreds of documents and thousands of pages. When I was done I typed out everything I had highlighted in wordperfect. (Microsoft word wasn’t out yet). After I had everything typed out I began to rearrange everything into a document. It took me weeks to accomplish this, but by the time I was done I had a document that I felt was in the best interest of my kids, was fare to my ex and myself and gave my ex some options for custody arrangements all in the children’s best interest. The best thing was that it was all in my judges own word, from decisions that he had already made.
In the end it worked out just fine. The kids got a fair judgement in their best interest, and I worked my way out of that pit of depression with the words “I am never going there again!” Famous last words right?
Well return to now… I have identical twin daughters that have been struggling with addiction off and on for the past few years. Someone at a party introduced them to “Oxys”. It ends up they were fake oxy and real fentanyl. Fentanyl is a synthetic opiate that is 80x stronger than heroin. Take everything you know about heroin, heroin addiction and heroin addicts… Now times that by 80! Really!!! We are in the midst of a huge opiate epidemic and people are dying at an incredible rate from it. I have been trying to help my girls, get help for my girls, and get them to get help for themselves. One has overdosed 4 times, once having to be brought back to life and the other has overdosed as well. They have lost friends to the drug, and they have held their friends and their own sister trying to keep them alive until help arrives. One has been through detox 3 times and the other one twice. I have watched them try to get clean, go through detox and have no where to go after detoxing. They got put on a list for rehab and told to phone 3 to 4x a week to remain on the list and in 6 to 8 weeks they would probably get in. Really! You expect a drug addict on something 80x stronger than heroin to be successful? Really? I just can’t see it.
I stayed on my girls, trying everything I could think of or learn, to try to help them. It was brutal on the heart and soul. It still is, they are still struggling. They went to detox at thanksgiving, and were on lists waiting for phone calls to go to detox. 3 months later they were still waiting for calls when the dog attack happened. See my first couple of blog posts for that debacle. I almost lost one of the girls to the attack! It was brutal and she almost bled out. So here I am, having almost lost my daughters numerous times, they still are not in rehab. They are still struggling addicts, but at least they are still struggling and not dead. At some point after the dog attack, and a couple of years of dealing and fighting with the addicts, dealing with the aftermath of the attack, the mass publicity that went along with it, then the publicity of the girls being drug addicts and the wave of haters, the fighting with the system while screaming for help, and just being a caring loving father seeing his girls so brutally injured, judged, hated and struggling, all of a sudden I found myself back in that pit of depression.
I found myself in the middle of a breakdown. Funnily enough, I posted the breakdown on Facebook! Boy was I broken! Some of you may have seen the video. It was only up for an hour. A friend of mine sent me a message telling me I should take it down, that I was broken and needed to fix myself for my kids! I took his advice after watching the video, and seeing it had been shared over 800x in an hour. I realized I was wallowing in that pit of depression. Thank you Darrell for the advice.
Depression is a horrible place to be. You doubt yourself, you doubt your whole being, your brain just wont shut up and it isn’t saying good things! That is when Captain Stupid says all sorts of brutal things to hurt you. It physically and mentally destroys you from the depths of your soul outwards. You don’t feel like asking for help, you don’t feel like getting out of bed, you don’t feel like talking to anyone, you start getting sick it is a brutal dark place to be, and I know there are people out there way way worse off than me.
To those people fighting depression I say “I love you! Please please please go ask for help! Don’t just rely on the happy pills that the docs are so quick to prescribe. Walk, walk, walk, get out into nature where your body can resonate with real life energy rather than the vibrations of a concrete jungle. Eat healthy foods. Drink healthy drinks take healthy supplements. Talk to someone! Get help. If you get thoughts of suicide do not act on them. From the moment you have that thought of suicide, all things are truly different in your life. If you are already willing to die, then how can the pressures and things that got you to that point hurt you anymore? That is the time for a new beginning, not a sad ending! I love and respect you!”
Mindless meanderings of a melancholy mind!
Posted on April 20, 2016 by Steven Mather
I am: The energy of love manifested. All that I should be at this time The same as all that lives More than the sum of all my parts A part of the whole that is the universal oneness of all Whatever I intend Fear if I let fear live within me All that is and all that will ever be A living experience for my soul and the universal consciousness of which I am I am a vibration in the universal song of oneness A living vessel on the ocean of universal love Flawed perfection At peace
I am the energy of Love manifested, from the universal oneness that is all, brought forth through the love manifested within my parents, my parents parents and so on.
I am all that I should be at this time. How could I be anything but. The culmination of all I have experienced, felt, loved and learned has brought me to my present state.
I am the same as all that lives. I am but a vibration in the ocean of the universal consciousness as is all that exists.
I am more than the sum of all my parts, for when my parts are long gone my consciousness, energy of life will return to the universal oneness.
I am whatever I intend. My intent is my focus, that which I focus on will grow into my manifestation. My intent is to share love in all that I do, and all I experience even if my mind percieves negativity.
I am fear if I let fear live within me. Fear can not exist unless I allow it, as it is a product of my thinking mind. If I do not allow fear in my thought patterns there is more room for universal love. Fear is a product of forgetting who I am, and believing I am not.
I am all that is and all that will ever be. I am universal consciousness, the vibration of love resonating throughout all that is.
I am a living experience for my soul and the the universal consciousness that I am. My physical being is but a small part of who I am, sent here to love learn and experience all that our physical reality offers. The more I love, learn and experience the more I contribute to the experience and growth of all that is.
I am a vibration in the universal song that is oneness. I can choose to vibrate in harmony, syncing in to the flow of the eternal song, or I can choose to vibrate out of tune, experiencing all the lessons to be learned from resonating in disharmony creating dissonance within myself and my current life experience.
I am a living vessel on the ocean of universal love. I can choose to go with the flow, riding the tides feeling and experiencing what the ocean has to offer, or I can choose to paddle against the tides and struggle to create my own path in the ocean, which will be erased as fast as I pull the paddle from the water.
I am Flawed Perfection. I am perfect as I am, a vibration of the universal oneness, resonating love at the core of my essence, yet am flawed as a physical living entity, that can produce the intent of viewing that which is not, while believing it is. I create my flaws, they are only in my mind, and when my body has long turned to dust the imagined flaws will be gone and only love will remain.
I am at peace. I have chosen not to let fear exist in me. I have chosen to give up my beliefs, and live in my knowledge, that which I have experienced, resonating in the frequency of love, at peace with all that is!
I am!
To you I offer Love and Light, may you vibrate in harmony with all that is!
Addiction is Hell!
Posted on April 15, 2016 by Steven Mather
Everyday I wake up and wonder “Is today the day? Is today the day I will receive the phone call that one of my daughters has overdosed and did not make it?” Addiction is hell! For the addict, for the family, for anyone that loves that person. I find it unusual that I am finally getting comfortable with my position. For a very long time it scared the hell out of me, it gave me anxiety, had me living in fear, and helped to land me in a pit of depression.
For a long time I focussed it on me, “What did I do wrong?” What can I do to fix it?” No parent wants to see their child or any family member or friend deal with the harshness of addiction. I constantly questioned my parenting, my love, my strength and my knowledge. I buried myself in trying. Trying everything I could think of, learning about addiction, learning about specific drugs, learning about dealing with addiction and addicts, learning to love and feel compassion, learning to feel and deal with immense emotional and psychological trauma, as well as learning a hell of a lot about myself, my family, my friends and social networking.
So far it has been a long hard educational journey. I have had my mind blown many times in this part of my journey. I have experienced pain, depression, hate, anger, hopelessness, a breakdown, help, love, strength, encouragement, education, information, friendship love and more love. I have had my eyes opened to how blessed I am to be surrounded by the people I have in my circle, both virtual and digital. I learned that I am not alone in my struggles, and that my kids are not alone in theirs.
I am finally at peace with knowing that that phone call may actually come. I am at peace with knowing that as a parent I have done all I can (at this time, in my current mindset with my current tools) that I can do. I continue to love and encourage them to walk the pathway to getting clean, but that is a pathway they must choose and walk on their own. I got them to a safe place. I made sure they got on methadone so they use fentenyl way less than they were. I got them to see addiction specialists, doctors, and the people that can help them. Now i just have to love and encourage them, and hope that one of the relapses doesn’t end up fatal.
As a parent it is hard for me to see them, because I see the pain, the changes, the darkness and it hurts my soul. I see them struggle, listen to their tears, hold them when they hurt, and it breaks my heart. It is a harsh pathway, with really only two outcomes. You either start on a path to recovery or you end up dead. Dead is a final game play in this reality. You don’t get a replay, and you don’t get to fix any thing. You will have no chance to experience a life of love and happiness. Every day I hope that today will be the day that they get the call to get into rehab.
Our system is not really setup for high rates of success, and it definitely is not setup to make it easy for the addict to succeed. The drugs are stronger, the fight is tougher, the f@ckin dealers even deliver right to your door. I get why it is not easy to win the battle! I am glad I won my battle years ago before these drugs were available.
It is such a strange time we live in, an overabundance of information flowing at incomprehensible rates, accessible 24 hours a day, and yet we still know so little about addiction and dealing with and healing addicts. Our system is antiquated and underfunded. If one has lots of money you are open to more options, but if you are in the middle or low income area you are pretty much guaranteed a long brutal fight for help.
For those of you that read this and are dealing with a similar situation, know that you are not alone. The only thing I can say is never give up on them. Never stop loving them. Keep encouraging them to fight the addiction. Encourage them to seek the path to healing. Give them hope, give them love, give them strength, they need all they can get to battle the beast of addiction. Today so far has been a good day! Today we have avoided the phone call.
Today has been an Awesome Day!
Posted on May 31, 2016 by Steven Mather
Today has been an awesome day. I spoke with both my girls today. They are both in detox and doing well. It was awesome to speak with them and hear hope in their voices. It was nice to hear their voices without that High as fuck sound in it. They were telling me about their plans they are making, and sounding excited about getting clean, I am going to completely immerse myself in enjoying the moment. We have been here before, they went through detox last October, and then the road to success started throwing up many a road block. We may end up here again but for now there is only now, and now is good.
I know that to some of you, I may seem strong in the face of adversity, but I hold strong to the love of my friends and family, the support from you all to draw my strength from and to remind me that I have the strength and Love to get through all that comes my way. The things I write about may seem horrifying and overwhelming to some people, and sometimes they seem that way to me. Believe me, over the past year or two I have shed many tears. I have also blasted much anger, shared much love, and reached out to friends and the universe to strengthen me in my journey. But the journey that I have let hurt me is not my journey, it is the journey of my daughters. Because I am their parent, I try to bury myself in fixing the problem, except it is not mine to fix, therefore I can not fix it, but sometimes I forget this. That is part of being human.
I let myself get caught up in the human emotion of fear. When I get overwhelmed I forget that I am a spirit having a human experience and think I am a human trying to have a spiritual experience. My meditations teach me to remember all that I am, all that we are. We all as people have our (perceived) flaws, we all live in our own (perceived) realities, with our own (perceived) beliefs and knowledge. That is part of the fun of being a human. Our soul or light knows no flaws, does not recognize our physical reality or our minds beliefs. When we search for enlightenment we are just searching for the real us. The spiritual part, the consciousness, the essence of life, the light, the part that is connected to all that is and all that ever will be.
Believe me, I have my moments… I have been buried in despair, depression, anger, hatred, and many other self harming emotions. My Captain Stoopid has many times said things to me to discourage me in my journey. He has many times suggested suicide as an option to get out of things that have overwhelmed me, but I have learned to tell Captain Stoopid to just fuck off. I am the one writing my story and my ending, and It doesn’t end with me killing anyone, especially me.
Captain Stoopid has told me that I can not succeed, that the girls can not be successful, that my life sucks, that I am not strong enough to handle everything. IT IS ALL BULLSHIT! It is the ramblings of the crazy part of my brain, and I don’t have to listen to it… What am I trying to succeed at? LIVING! I am doing it, and Life is good. Death offers me no option to fix or change anything in this life, and I refuse to go out with out a damn fight! The girls CAN BE SUCCESSFUL! It is up to them and not up to me. It is only my position to Love them, not judge them and Success is a point of view, what makes mine the right one? NOTHING! My life doesn’t suck! I have a family, friends, job that I enjoy, my health, lots of love, and sometimes an overly exciting life. I am strong enough to handle anything that comes my way in this lifetime. I just have to remember that I am a part of the universal oneness that is all, and as such am armed to the teeth to deal with anything.
Yesterday I made a post on facebook, and in hindsight realized I should have posted it here:
We all have personal struggles! A person’s pain from their struggle is never a selfish thing. No matter how small we may see it, to them it may look massive and overwhelming. It is so real when we hold it in our heads that it can create depression, anxiety, addiction and thoughts of suicide. These can all lead to disease, cancer and or death. I post my blog so that others in dark places can see they are not alone, and find strength in knowing that they are not alone.
I can tell by the latest response that My struggles seem big to a lot of people, but a year ago I watched my friends suffer through their young son dying from a dipg brain tumor. They were all so strong and dignified in how they handled it. The little boy Peter was an angel. Dipg is a death sentence in our current system! They stood strong and fought. They embodied the definition of love and strength and when I think of my struggles I find strength from Peter and how he handled his. I think of the strength his parents and brother showed through the fight and still show now that Peter is gone. Such dignity and grace, love and strength. It puts my struggles in perspective and gives me strength to face mine standing strong. Thank you for all that you taught me Peter, Eli, Bill and Terra.
This is Peter and he was/is as awesome as this picture of him. He lives on in the hearts of all that were lucky enough to know him! I am one of those blessed to learn from him.
Friendship is not just about sharing the good times it is about holding out your hand and helping when others need help or holding out your hand and asking for help when you need it! You have all helped me already. Knowing someone cares is the biggest thing to help anyone. Thank you for caring, for reaching out and showing support.
I know that not everyone has a supportive family or friends, and If you are reading this and are someone that is in a dark place and needing a friend, or know someone that is in a dark place that is needing a friend, please refer me to them or them to me. I may not be able to do much, but I can always offer love, compassion and understanding. I can let them know that they are not alone, that I care and that together we can help each other stand strong and face our struggles.
At this point in my story of the girls it is all up to the girls and time. They get out on Friday, and we will see where the story goes
In the story of me, well I am in charge of how that goes, and right now, it is going pretty damn good!
Much love and light to you all.
At least my life isn’t boring
Posted on May 28, 2016 by Steven Mather
I do not write this to get sympathy, make people feel sorry for me, or to strike anyone emotionally. I write to clear things from my mind, document some struggles and hope that others that might be going through tough times may know they are not alone, and that maybe my words can in some way help or inspire someone else.
I know that I am a very blessed person with an awesome group of friends and a wicked support network and I give thanks to them all for being so damn awesome! I do still have my struggles, and as a father of a couple of struggling drug addicts sometimes the struggles can be mentally and emotionally draining.
The last couple of days were definitely a bit hectic for me. Wednesday morning 9am I dropped my daughters off at the methadone doctors. They were not open yet, but I had to work in Vancouver from 10am until 1pm and then head out to Surrey to work another gig from 3pm until 10:30pm. The deal I had made with the girls was that I would drop them off at the doctors, they would wait, and get their prescriptions, and then make calls to find a detox that would admit them that day so they could clean up and that they could not stay at my place anymore until they did. They had agreed. I dropped them off, told them I loved them, asked them to please do as they had said they would, and then I headed off to work.
At about 12:30 that afternoon I received a phone call from one of my daughters phones. When I answered I was speaking with a man who said “Hi is this Mr. Mather?” I replied “yes”. He went on to say that he was with mall security and that they had my daughter and she was in the middle of overdosing. He said they had called emergency and they were on the way, but was wondering what she might have used. He had the phone on speaker phone, and I could hear everything going on in the background, including them calling my daughters name, and asking her to stay with them and open her eyes. Stay with us emergency is on the way. My heart was racing, my mind was racing and I was wondering if I was possibly listening to one of my daughters dying. I asked if they only had one, as she was a twin, they were together and the other one was probably overdosing as well. They said they only had one of my daughters, and sent more security to search the mall to find the other one. Now I was thinking, “Is the other one overdosing somewhere by herself? Is this THAT fuckin phone call?” I could hear emergency show up, they were trying to get my daughter to communicate and I could hear her voice suddenly. My heart jumped “She is alive”!
I asked them to give the phone to my daughter and tell her it is dad. They put the phone close to her and she started to tell me it was ok, she was ok in her slurred I am high as fuck voice. I asked her where her sister was. She said she didn’t know. I asked where they had used, and she told us which bathroom they had been in. Security went and checked but her sister wasn’t there. One of the people there asked her where they were suppose to meet up and she told them, they sent security there to check and wait. The ambulance showed up and then suddenly the phone went dead. My mind was numb. What could I do? I had no time to get someone to cover my gig, and I couldn’t just not show up for work? WTF?. They hadn’t found my other daughter and I was having a tough time keeping my logistics together.
I hopped into my vehicle and went to start it up. Nothing but click… click… click. I have to say I was a little frustrated, and thought to myself, “Really? right now?” So I opened the hood, checked what I could, couldn’t get it going and proceeded to feel helpless and hopeless. My friends came to my rescue, and offered to give me a ride. The problem was I couldn’t run to the hospital, as I was running late already to make it to work. The cortisol was overloading my brain. I went into my breathing exercises and tried to silence my mind. I asked my friends if I could get a ride to my job in Surrey as there was not much I could do even if I was to go to the hospital. On the way I received a phone call. It was mall security calling me to tell me they had found my other daughter, she had overdosed as well but she was on her way to the hospital. Ahhhhhhhh…. Ok… things would be ok.
I got to work a little early, and spent a few minutes outside gathering myself, breathing and thanking the universe that today wasn’t THAT day. It was about 2 hours later I received a call from one of my daughters. I answered, and I heard that slurry high as fuck voice and it says “Mall Security is following us all over, there are like 5 of them.” I asked what they were doing at the mall, they were suppose to be at the hospital. She said that the hospital had treated them and that they were fine and on their way to the skytrain so they could go to Richmond. I said “Security just sent you to emergency a couple hours ago, they are following you to make sure you don’t get high again!” Then I told them to leave the mall, get on the train and call the damn detox places. I got the “yah dad, that’s what we are doing, we are doin it, we are, yah that’s what we are going to do…. yah.” I really hate that high as fuck voice. She said “I will call you when we get in” and she hung up. I was working, and really couldn’t do anything. I gotta say I felt helpless, and had a whole lot of WTF? going through my mind.
I finished my gig at 10:30 and then tried texting and calling people to find out what was going on. I didn’t get any answers. I caught a bus to the skytrain, so I could catch the skytrain into town, and then a bus to my car, so I could see if I could get it going. I called my buddy whom I had left my keys with to let him know I was heading in to try to get the vehicle going. I then finally got a hold of my Ex, to see if she had any news on the girls. She said that they had come to Richmond, that they had received some money and actually paid off a bunch of their debts, but then picked up, used and hadn’t called detox. I have to say, I had another WTF? moment! Really!
One of my daughters showed up at my Ex’s and asked if she could stay there for the night as she had no where else to go, and that she would go to detox tomorrow. The other one had gone to stay with a friend and was going to go to detox tomorrow as well. My buddy with my keys called me, and said he had called Busters Towing and they had tried to get my vehicle going, but that the starter was shot. GREAT! I was just arriving into downtown Vancouver, and told my buddy I would bus over grab the key, sleep in the car and deal with it tomorrow. I live about 1 1/2 hour drive out of town so I wasn’t going home. I contacted my boss and asked if he could get my gig for later that day covered, as I had to repair my vehicle and deal with a few family issues. He is an awesome dude and got my gigs covered. My buddy with the keys came and picked me up at the seabus station, took me to a drug store where we picked up some toiletries and then let me crash out in a spare room. I have awesome friends, and I am so lucky that they always have my back. I was pretty done by this point, so I thanked him took a hot bath and then went to bed.
I woke up at 7am. I opened my eyes, sat up, realized that it wasn’t a bad dream but was all real, pulled the blankets over my head and went back to sleep. I got up about 8:30, had a shower and started my day. I got ahold of a friend of mine that works at an auto supply store and asked about getting my starter. He is an awesome dude, and got me a great deal on one. I got a call from another buddy asking how things were going, and he offered to drive me around and help me with my vehicle. Again…. I have awesome friends. I took him up on his offer, and he said he would be there in an hour or so. I tried getting ahold of family to find out what had happened with my daughters, but no one was answering their phone. I decided to go get some breakfast. I have some friends that have an art gallery with an awesome little coffee shop that has wicked carrot cake, and always some intelligent conversation. They are awesome people and if you are in downtown vancouver I recommend saying hi to Jennifer and Chris at Harrison Galleries. I also recommend the carrot cake…. MMMmmmmm carrot cake!
From there I headed out into the rainy day and made my way to meet up with my buddy and get busy working on my car. He picked me up and we were on our way. We drove to my vehicle, I watched the youtube video on changing the starter and figured “doesn’t look that hard”. Hahahah. Of course all my tools were at home, so I got my buddy to run me to buy another set of ratchets and wrenches and headed on back. Okay, Disconnect the battery, jack up the vehicle, remove the skid plate. OK, thats’s done. Next. Disconnect the drive shaft but mark it first so you can put it back the same way. Okay…. Marked. I hooked up the ratchet, put on my gloves, and proceeded to use every ounce of strength I have along with a whole lot of WD-40. I could not get the bolt to budge. So I tried a different bolt…. with the same results. I was wrenching so hard My muscles started to spasm and seize up.
At that moment I realized I was not going to be able to make this happen. My phone rang, and it was a dear friend that I had not spoke with in a quite a while. Her hubby is an awesome mechanic and they have their own shop. “NZ Auto Works” This is a shameless plug for an awesome honest mechanic. They are at 1841 Hastings St. East, in the event you also have vehicle luck like me and need a good, honest, old school mechanic. If you stop in say hi to Ronda and Craig and tell them Mayhem sent ya…Talk about the universe knocking. I asked the possibility of them helping me out. We had the car towed to the shop where they fixed it up and they made me feel welcome and awesome. Again, I have incredibly awesome loving friends and I am truly blessed for it.
Later on in the evening I received a call from one of my daughters. She was phoning to tell me they were ok, and that she had called and been accepted to a detox, but that she got the last spot available. There were no more available spots in detox in Vancouver. She told me that the other twin didn’t get in and had nowhere to go, and would probably commit suicide if I didn’t pick her up. There was no more detox’s available! WTF? NO DETOX LEFT IN VANCOUVER??? Hey Christy Clark WTF? I was frazzled, the last couple of days had taken a bit of a toll on me, and I was pretty much cooked. This would be the first time under a threat of suicide that I have told her that I probably could not make that happen and that they would have to figure something else out. She whispered in that stupid high as fuck voice…”I am just saying, that if you don’t pick her up, your daughter will probably kill herself.” I told her again, that they would have to find other options, but that I would think about things and call back. I thought about things for a few moments, called her back and suggested that maybe she should let her sister have the detox spot and then she could go later as she wasn’t going to kill herself, but that I could not come in and pick her up. This was a landmark moment for me, as I was not going to give in and if I was wrong, I could possibly lose my daughter, and would carry that with me the rest of my life. I said a prayer with as much love, focused intent and energy as I could, meditated and went to bed.
When I woke up this morning I tried calling, but could get ahold of no one. So I wondered if my daughters were alive or if one had actually made it to detox. I couldn’t do anything about it and again had to go to work. Another day in the life of Mayhem. I made myself some breakfast, had a coffee, took all my supplements, and sat for a moment of peace before starting the day. I received a call while I was sitting there, it was one of my daughters. She hadn’t gone to detox, they were together. They were both fine and they had both been accepted at a couple of detox’s for tonight. Well, hopefully it was going to be true this time, but the voice was clear and not the high as fuck voice on the other end of the phone. At the time I am finishing typing this, they are both finally in detox. It is only 8 days but it is a start. They have been here before, and may be here again, but every day they are alive is a good day!
And today…. Today is an awesome day!
If you know someone that may find strength in my words, please share this blog!
Much Love and Light
Good News… Wtf?
Posted on May 25, 2016 by Steven Mather
What kind of a fucked up time are we living in, when a friend can call me with “good news” about his 16 year old daughter, when the good news is “She is only doing heroin!”? The sad thing is, it actually is good news because at least she isn’t addicted to fentenyl. That is so messed up.
I have noticed that the news and the government is starting to recognize it as an epidemic. Too little to late, but I guess better late to the party than not showing up at all. W-18 is on its way to the party too. For those of you that don’t know, fentenyl is 80x stronger than heroin or clinical morphine. W-18 is 100x stronger than fentenyl. Now math isn’t my strong suit, but by my calculations that would make W-18 8000x stronger than heroin!!! People are dying all over the country from fentenyl, and W-18 is making its appearance. Hey Christy Clark, better start stocking up on body bags cause there is a landslide coming.
Everyday I give thanks that my girls are still alive. Its not a happy place, because They are still addicts, still on the methadone program, with their methadone getting raised constantly because they still get cravings and still end up using fentenyl. It is only a matter of time….. And the only thing with lots of time….. Is time. Time is patient, time will wait, after all he has all the time in the world.
Me, I am just numb to it all. I have gone through every emotion including having a complete meltdown. I have gone through anger, fear, hate, love, compassion, depression, frustration, anxiety and now emptiness.
I recently spent a weekend with my girls. They had asked me for help, as everyone else has given up on them. They have lied, cried, begged, yelled, looked me straight in the eyes while high as fuck, swearing they didn’t use, they have brought and used the drugs in my house, the whole time telling me they would never do that. They have truly become fully blown addicts. They have every excuse to not get help. They have become selfish, rude, disrespectful people. They have become slobs that don’t clean up after themselves, they will help themselves to things that aren’t theirs and they are so messed up they can’t comprehend why people get upset!
I got the joy of watching them nod off for hours, and got to watch one of them that has developed an OCD disorder literally tear the skin off her face while she is high. It doesn’t matter what you say or do, she can’t help herself, so she just picks and tears until her face is bleeding and scabbed up. It is horrifying as a father. I have gotten to hear lots of awesome rumours about the horrible things they let themselves be subject too, and honestly, as a parent, I do not wish that on anyone. It tears apart your heart and soul! It breaks my heart that I can not help them, but the reality is that I can do nothing for them, but love them.
There isn’t really anything I can say to help my buddy either. I am sorry he too will have to go through this, but at least we are not alone. It is a sad fucked up time we live in, when the children feel that their lives are so bad, that those are the drugs they need to use to deal with it.
We can pray for them, and encourage them to seek the professional help that it will take to help them beat the addiction. We can try to look at any little positive thing we can, and we can take care of ourselves so that we don’t melt down ourselves. We can offer them love and support in trying to beat their addiction, and other than that we can wait….. Just like time…..
There is only ever right now, and right now they are 8 days clean!
Posted on June 4, 2016 by Steven Mather
My girls got out of detox today. 8 days clean and sober. I am so proud of them, and wish them only success this time around.
I know I should be happy…. But…For some reason I seem to be anxious and having anxiety. I know it is not about me, they are quick to remind me of that, even though I had to fit in driving from Mission to Vancouver, picking them each up at different detoxes, running them to transit to pick up the stuff they lost last week and then get them to their doctors in New West and then me get to work in Surrey on time while my roommate drives them home to our place in Mission.
I know I should be happy, but I am finding no matter how much I want to be, my mind says “Don’t get too excited we have been here before!” I even feel guilty about those thoughts, but I still have them. Maybe it is just because I am tired, run down and running on too much coffee, but this isn’t about me!
The first time we attempted this it was in Oct 2015, I booked the month off so I could run them to meetings, counsellors and doctors. I borrowed $3000 to cover rent, bills, food, medication and expenses. In the end Things didn’t work out, they left and relapsed, I could only find a couple of gigs as I had canceled the whole month, and just ended up in debt. The second time was January 2016 after the dog attack. I did the same thing, booked the month off borrowed $3500 as I had to pay about $100 a day just for bandages and wound dressings, none of which was covered by medical. This time didn’t work out either. They relapsed and again I could only find a couple of gigs and just ended up another $3500 in debt. At least we were able to get them on a methadone program and they were using fentenyl way less. I just ended up with a heart that was breaking and a $7500 debt. But this isn’t about me!
This time I have booked work everyday this month except for two days. I am working 8 to 12 hours a day 7 days a week. At least I wont be going in debt for this one. All I can offer this time is my love and support, a place to stay while they transition and hopefully transform their lives, and maybe a ride here and there if it fits my ridiculous work schedule. I find working keeps my mind busy, and as I work in the arts, I enjoy my job. It is strange for me to realize that at this time in my life my work is my happy place. But this isn’t about me!
The girls each looked so vibrant and happy when I picked them up today. It was nice to hug them and talk to them with out having to hear a high as fuck voice. God I have missed my loving beautiful daughters, the drugs turn them into people that I have a hard time being around. I know that even when they are high they are still my daughters, but It breaks my heart and hurts my soul to be around them. I can’t even comprehend being in their position, just being in mine has been a pretty tough fight, but this isn’t about me.
Today They sounded so positive and strong. Each of them have clear plans of battle. They have done a great job taking charge this time and have each lined up their own counseling, doctors appointments, meetings and support. It is very encouraging. I hope and pray that this is the time…. That they will heal successfully and stand strong against their addiction. I know they have all they need to do it!
There is only ever today, and today they are 8 days clean, and I am so proud of them.
Here is to today, to meeting our challenges head on, standing strong in the face of adversity and being successful!
Much love and light!
The Streets of Hell
Posted on August 19, 2016 by Steven Mather
tent city
At one point not so long ago the girls were 27 days clean, and proud of it. They were going to get that 30 day chip for being clean, but at 27 days things went south. That addict is an elusive sneaky person, and as soon as they got some money, which was on day 27, things went south. They didn’t let me know they got any money, and they told me they were going to visit a friend that had just flown back to town after moving away a while ago. Then they were going to go dancing with this friend, so they were going to stay at her place.
Well somewhere along the way that turned into get drugs and get high. Some things happened that night that were traumatic for them and are currently under investigation. Over the next few days I watched them fall further and further away from being clean, deeper and deeper into addiction and realized we were losing again. I tried everything I could think of, called everyone I could think of but because they are 21 I cannot make help happen. I would beg the girls to go see our doctors for help. They would, but who knows what the girls were telling them. They got some prescriptions and then sent home. I would tell them to ask to see drug councilors, trauma councilors, psychologists, addiction doctors. I learned it was easier for them to just do the drugs. The more drugs they do the stronger the addiction gets and with the drugs already 100x stronger than heroin, how the fuck do you fight that and win? I wish I knew. Instead I have 2 struggling addicts committing suicide slowly, and some days trying faster than others.
Things were moving too fast lately and I did not feel like writing, I was too busy with the struggles in our lives. Things had really gone down hill quickly. The girls were back living with me, and we were trying once again to find the road to getting clean, or so I thought. Upon realizing that I was just being an enabler, even though I was trying everything I could to help them, I understood that I could not remain an enabler and that they needed to find somewhere safe to go. They each found a recovery house to go to. Both houses were in Surrey, not far from each other. Recovery houses have a lot of their own problems. There are some that are serious and legit about helping the struggling addicts, and some are not so serious and some are not so legit in trying to help the addicts. There does not seem to be a set standard and the government doesn’t seem to be setting one for them.
One of my girls was happy with the one she was in, the other not so happy with the one she was in. There seems to be a real lack of one on one counseling and medical help in most of them. You would think that counseling would be one of the main things to have for them. Not just group sessions, but one on one counseling. Unfortunately that makes things a mental health issue, and mental health in this province is definitely under funded as is the addiction problems. The happiness of them being in recovery for me was short lived, and the fact that they had met a bunch of young people that lived on the street in Surrey, and it was easy to find drugs in that area, it was not long before they were living on the streets too.
When I found out that they were actually living on the streets, my heart broke yet again. I started driving around for hours on end hoping to find them. The first day I went looking, I was blown away by the amount of people that live in that area. There are so many destitute people down there. It was horrifying to think that this is where they were ending up. I did not find them that first day, and I drove around for hours looking.
After work the second day, I headed back to look again. Driving in circles around the harshest areas, hoping to find them, yet at the same time, hoping to not find them there. I was making a pass of one of the small encampments on a patch of grass on the side of the road, when one of my daughters saw me, and jumped up waving and giving me a big smile. I was so excited to see her, and then I saw her sister with her and my heart jumped even more. I pulled over and got out of the vehicle, and they came over and hugged me, and I hugged them. I didn’t know whether to be happy I found them or horrified that they were living there in that camp, with a bunch of other addicts. We all shed a few tears, and a lot of love.
They introduced me to a bunch of the people in their camp. It was full of teenagers and young people. Some addicted to heroin and fentanyl and others addicted to crack and meth, but all were addicted to something. I asked the girls to pack up and come home, but they said that they could not put me through the pain it would cause me again, and they had to use, and it was easier to get it where they were. I drove over to get some food for them and the other people in the camp, spent some time with them, and then sadly I left them there and went home. My mind was officially blown. How had we come to this?
Over the next few days I would visit them and bring food and coffee for them and the other people in the camp. I had spoken with their mother about it, and she wanted to come and visit and help as well. Over the course of time, we got to know some of the other kids that were addicted there, and some of their stories, which are just heart wrenching. Every time we would show up we would ask them to come home or to find a place to get help, but again it was easier to do the drugs than get the help and do the fight to get clean. Every single person in their camp told us that we needed to get them out of there. That living there would destroy them, and we should get them out while they still had a chance. I know that there are some people that were very happy my girls were there, because they saved a few lives while there. Kati has her CPR first aid, and they both carry naloxone kits in case of overdoses. They ended up using both many times.
One night they weren’t together and I guess something went wrong. I woke up in the morning to one of my daughters calling me from the hospital. She had overdosed, and was crying. She didn’t want to do it anymore, she wanted to come home and get better. She didn’t know where her sister was and could not remember anything about the night before. I told her I was on my way and headed out the door. She called me back and said she was on her way back to the camp to look for her sister, and that I could pick her up there. I learned that they had not been together that night, and that the sister was asleep in the tent the whole time and was not aware of the overdose. I also learned that one of the other young addicts had called 911 for her because he had seen her collapse. One of the guys on the street, while she was already wasted on heroin, had given her GHB, and she had actually overdosed on the GHB. I was able to talk them into coming home after that episode, but we were still stuck in the problem of the addiction and the need for the drugs. I made a bunch of phone calls, but again the system is so backed up and not ready for the epidemic that help is hard to find. Unfortunately with the way things are, until you can get the help, they tell you to keep using until they have the time to deal with you. That means that they have to keep picking up off the street and using those same drugs, which I can honestly say is brutal for them and all involved.
I continued to make phone calls, getting them also to make phone calls. I learned that one of my daughters has manic episodes and gets suicidal. We would have emotional episodes, and ups and downs. We got them back in to the original doctor that had put them on the methadone program, which was not very successful for them. Fentanyl is so powerful that the methadone does not work for some very well. We had also learned that suboxone was having better success with it. They were able to finally get on suboxone, so that they could try to deal with the cravings of the addiction, while we tried to find some help. It was there that they brought me in to speak to me, and I was told that one of them was again manic and concerned about her suicidal thoughts. They told me they couldn’t do anything for us other than prescribe the suboxone, and that we should see our family doctor.
We made an appointment with the family clinic as soon as we could. We were unable to get our family doctor as he was not there, but we did get to see a doctor. Because one of them had been placed in my care from the Manic/Suicidal behavior I was allowed to be in on the visit. Normally because they are 21 I am not allowed to attend. I told the doctor about the addictions, the suicidal thoughts, the manic behavior, the trauma over the years, and what had been going on recently. It is there that I found out one of my daughters is bipolar, borderline personality disorder, and Ocd. When I suggested seeing a psychologist and a psychiatrist I was blown off. I told the doctor about a medication that the addictions doctor had suggested, so the doctor phoned a psychiatrist and discussed the situation, not with my daughter or myself, just with the doctor. At the end of the session, we had no appointment with a psychiatrist or psychologist, but we did have that pill that the addictions doctor had recommended. I also had them back in my charge with the doctor saying that if she gets manic or suicidal again to just call 911. Our system is broken, as is my heart.
I brought them home and started making phone calls again. We need to find the proper help. It was in this time period that the daughter of one of my dear friends overdosed and passed away. It really affected my girls, as they new her and had just seen her a short time before.
Our system is so fucked up, that when my girls learned of her death they said they would at least go to the 7 day detox again. They called, but all the detoxes are full. 1 to 6 week wait. Yeah our government is really addressing the problem. The detox is the revolving door of the government trying to look good. Its only a 7 day cleanup, with no where for the addict to go when it is over, so they go back to the environment that feeds the addiction, then they go back to detox and repeat over and over. The numbers look good for the government though! Look at all the addicts we help! Our detoxes are full. The numbers look great on paper! Meanwhile our streets are full of kids addicted to these brutally strong drugs that require MONTHS OF TREATMENT to have even a slight chance of success, and nowhere to get the help.
There are about 4 men’s places to every one women’s, and if you are an underage female it gets even worse! It is horrifying out there. How do I know? Because I have spent hours on the phone trying to find help, and my ex and I have spent hours visiting my daughters and many of the other unfortunate kids living on the streets in Surrey, bringing them food, pillows, and other necessities. It breaks the heart and soul to be there witnessing it! There are so many young kids down there being preyed on by the drug dealers and scumbags that will take advantage of them. I was down there to see my daughters and a brown guy in a big white escalade stopped and yelled to me out his window “Do you want a sample?” I wasn’t sure I heard right so I said “what?” He yelled out again… “Do you want a sample?” I was horrified and said no and he drove off. They are that unbelievably blatant in mid day. Yep that new task force is fixing everything!
A good friend of their mothers and mine, made a phone call to one of his high school friends that had become a counselor and ran a successful detox for men. I was able to speak with him at length, and let him know of our situation, and made sure he was aware of a lot of the trauma that the girls had suffered, and that they were suffering currently. He gave me some numbers to call, ideas to try, and a little hope. The next day, he gave me another number to a Lady that would prove to be an incredible blessing. After days of trying to get help and hours and hours on the phone, we finally had a place that would take them in and try to help them. It is another recovery house, but one of the more serious ones. They are there now, and so far have been successful. It is only another beginning, and there is a long way to go, but at least we have hope for today, and as long as they are alive I can have hope.
One of my daughters gave me this poem that she wrote while in recovery and I asked if I could share it here and she said yes.
Just another day, Another night
Another moment that just doesn’t feel right
Another guy, Sigh after sigh
Another reason to ask why.
Using everyday, everyway I can
I gotta pay everyday Just to feel okay
Gotta be a normal person
Gotta stay clean
The problem is
I am doing it for everyone else but me
I wanna be sober But I can’t stop using
My life’s already almost over
But withdrawls are too abusing
Cuts and bruises
I just cant help myself
I love drugs
I love getting high
Always tell me to change my mind
Losing friends and losing family
To this horrible addiction
This shit is fucking real
It ain’t fucking fiction
Being on the streets, No where to go
No bed and no sheets
No room to grow
Everday’s a challenge
Recovery and relapse
No one said it would be easy
No one drew any maps
Every single day I fight
The demon that’s inside
Tryna do what’s right
But the only thing that feels good
Is getting high if I could
But I can’t right now
Thinking of my dad
Thinking of all the things I coulda had
By now
A car, a house
Maybe even a child
But these are all just dreams
For the next little while
Cigarette after cigarette
I’m so fucking stressed
Ever day I wake up
And I just wanna get fucked up
Dragon after dragon
Takes the pain away
I know it sounds fucked up
but heroin makes me feel okay
Anxiety and panic attacks
Are pretty normal now
Everyone tells me to get clean
But nobody tells me how
Detox and treatment
Clean time for a while
But then I always go back to her
Thinking she’s my smile
By “her” and “She”
I mean the dope fiend in me
Down, down, down,
I just love the fucking feeling
And when I think about the high
I just feel like cheering
But then I think of all the pain and disappointment
That comes with it
Sometimes I really care
Sometimes I just wanna get lit
At least I know
I don’t gotta do this alone
Cuz I got my twin sister
And when I’m with her I’m home
Doesn’t’ seem to matter
Where we are, or how far
If we are together
We can do anything
No matter the weather we just need to fight
And we will be alright
Cuz O’Ding and dying is not how our story ends
Time to turn over a new leaf
Time to transcend
In went two caterpillars
Out came two butterflies
In went to liars
Out came all the lies
From now on
Its only truth and honesty
From now on its only
Peace and love
And we will be free.
KCM 2016
ONE LAST TIME….
Posted on August 19, 2016 by Steven Mather
ONE LAST TIME!
Quite possibly the most common – Last Words – ever thought!
She’s Dead! just a teenager, her whole life ahead of her. Beautiful, Talented, Funny, and now she is gone.
“One Last Time!” I have heard those words from my own daughters. We have been very lucky. One of my best friends, not so. I watched him do everything he could. He called everybody he could think of and more. He went to meetings to learn about addiction and things he could try. He went to the government, to doctors, counselors, friends, family everyone that he could talk too that might be able to help or tell him where he could get help.
Throughout their history whenever his ex and daughter would fight, his ex would get angry and kick their daughter out, and maker her live with her father. He was always there waiting. He would take her in, show her love and compassion and help her any way he could. In the later years he only ever seemed to get to see her when there were problems. I find this sad, as that now means the majority of his memories are of him trying to fix problems for her instead of having fun and enjoying life with his daughter.
This time things were different. This time she had become a struggling addict, and that is never easy for anyone involved. This time when she showed up, he was in for the fight of her life. He buried himself so hard in trying to save his daughter he actually lost himself. He gave up his jobs, his tours, his days and his nights, and focused 100% on trying to help his daughter.
I have known this man for a lifetime. He is one of the most caring, loving, talented, non-violent souls I have ever met. I struggled my whole life with my temper and fits of anger. I didn’t believe it was possible to not act that way. He taught me how to understand love and calm by explaining why he didn’t understand that type of anger and temper. He was raised in a family where they didn’t spank, the siblings didn’t pick on each other or talk or say rude things to each other. By him coming into my life I had my truth proven false and I was now open to changing my truth. I can say I still get angry and still have temper tantrums I am a work in progress. Quite often when I find myself in challenging situations, I ask myself “What would my buddy do?” and it helps me to be a better person making better choices, (THIS IS NOT ONE OF THOSE TIMES!)
My admiration and love for this man is that of a guy that is incredibly proud and humble to have him as a friend. We are familiar with each of our struggles, and in the beginning I would try to help him with ideas because I have been dealing with it for a lot longer. We were hoping that because his daughter was under age he would be able to get help easier than I was because my girls are 21. In the end he was helping me. His beautiful little girl is gone, and mine are still alive. Struggling Addicts, but still alive. We were wrong in the end. Everywhere he turned he got told he couldn’t really do anything and her being underage was actually worse. That is the demographic that has the least amount of places for help.
I am familiar with not being able to do anything. It seemed for a long time like every time I thought I could help, I would find my hands were tied. It didn’t stop me from trying, but it did cause me a lot of crying. My girls have been through multiple detox’s, multiple overdoses, held each others heads as the other was dying, been brought back to life multiple times, administered naloxone to dying addicts while performing cpr and now lost a friend, and the daughter to one of my lifelong buddies. It doesn’t seem to matter. The drugs are so strong, and the addiction is so brutal and readily available.
He was always there with his heart and arms open wide. He just loved her with every fiber of his being. Her father did everything he could. He went to doctors, the ministries, counselors, Nar-anon meetings, he tried everything. Without any support or help he lost his job, gave up his gigs and made his life all about trying to save his daughter.
After months of fighting, struggling, meetings, doctors, tears, love and compassion he was starting to have a little success, she was staying clean. I know the struggle her father was going through. We spoke all the time, sometimes for hours, because we were brothers at arms, fighting to save our daughters lives. I still have a fighting chance, my girls are still alive. He has to deal with the death of his daughter, the person he dedicated his life to saving, and he still finds time to support me in my battle even in the midst of his devastating loss and grieving. He is one of the most honorable caring men I know, and he doesn’t deserve any of this!
I saw the boyfriend too, crying about how he loved her. Aren’t you the guy that introduced her to heroin and shooting up? Yeah you really loved her, not as much as heroin though, hey buddy! Fuck you too! If you hadn’t started her using she might still be here!
Am I mad? Yeah I am mad! I have watched my buddy lose his daughter and get devastated by the aftermath. It is very maddening. Anyone that knows him knows he is a loving compassionate person that literally sacrificed everything to save his daughter, and in the end lost her anyways!
Their daughter knows the truth now. She is part of the universal consciousness and sees all truth! She can see what an awesome father he really was, and how much he truly loved her! May you be in the arms of the angels, sending love to your father from the heavens.
Addiction is hell #fuck addiction #fuck heroin #fuck fentanyl
The new face of fentanyl
Posted on November 13, 2016 by Steven Mather
A lot has happened since I last wrote anything here. It seems a lifetime has passed, and in reality it has been a few. 3 of the people the girls had introduced me to when I first found them on the strip are dead from overdoses. One of my best friends daughter is dead from an overdose. It has been too many lifetimes already and yet it will continue!
As many of you may know my daughters did not last at the recovery house. We did get to celebrate their birthday while they were there. My grandson got to spend the day with his mom and auntie on their birthday and he had a great time. We all had a great time. But alas, great times come to an end. It wasn’t long after their birthday that things took that left turn…. Again.
I think that when a person is addicted to something as strong as crack or heroin let alone fentanyl, you need to have the proper medication, counseling, support and doctors for any real chance of success. That is the big difference between a rehab facilities, a treatment center and a recovery house. A proper treatment center or rehab facilities, that is truly there to help the addict succeed has those tools. Most of the recovery houses don’t have that type of support. It depends on whether they are government regulated or not, and it seems like there are way too many unregulated houses claiming to be “Recovery House’s” that are really just “Money Making Flop Houses”. Some don’t have any real support at all, and most are making good money. This is where I have to start asking questions. Where is all that money going, and couldn’t it be better spent to help those same people?
I heard from a parent of an addict that she got in an argument with a guy that runs one of the recovery houses her son was at. Social Assistance was paying her son $980 a month and $900 was going to the recovery house. Her son wasn’t getting the other $80 and she still had to bring him food and toiletries. She asked what was happening with the other $80 and said she was spoken to rudely and called names by the man running the house.
Social Assistance was paying for my girls to be at the recovery house they were at too. There were 10 people in the recovery house that my girls were in. 10×900=$9000 that month. That is the accounted for portion. 80×10=$800 unaccounted for and not given to the addicts. That is almost $10,000 a month per house. Now on top of that, of those 10 people in the house, 4 of them got kicked out and replaced. So now does the government pay another 4×900=$3600 which seems to me to be a lot of money being spent on places with no resources and a huge lack of successfully treating any of the addiction. Could the money not be better spent?
Hey Mr. Rankin if you are reading this maybe your investigative reporters could look into this? I am not saying anything is corrupt, but I am saying that it is worth making sure they are trying to help addicts succeed not owners succeed in pocketing government $$$ that could be better spent helping deal with the addiction!
There is a line up of addicts at these facilities because the epidemic is monstrous. The houses don’t have to be concerned about helping anyone, there is a lineup of $980/month patients at the door daily. Every time an addict goes to one of the bogus places and relapses, they have one more reason to believe that they can’t succeed. I am sure this makes the road to success even harder and longer.
As we traverse the landscape of drug addiction, I am learning that there is a real play on the language and the learning curve. We are taught to believe things are a certain way and that all you have to do is “A” “B” “C” and it will all be better. It just is not the reality of the situation. I can only speak for my experience, that it will lead to the detox program, which is really only a respite for those involved, where everybody gets to breath and sleep for a few days, until on day 8 the addict gets to come home.
Of course with minimal counseling, and only 8 days of getting off of the drug, a program designed for opiates as strong as heroin, not synthetic opioids 100x stronger like fentanyl, combined with going back to the area of addiction and no time or education to change behavior, is a recipe for relapse and adding one more “failure” into the addicts bag of tricks.
Don’t get me wrong because I valued the time they were in detox. When your life is being consumed by someone you love being an addict, those moments of knowing they are safe are very valuable. The last time the girls called the detox we found out that even they had a waiting list. The epidemic is ridiculous and our system is so antiquated and not ready.
My girls went to detox quite a few times. After relapsing every time they finally said, “No, Detox doesn’t work, we’ve already done that over and over.”
Then we learn about recovery houses, rehabs and treatment centers. We learn that rehabs and treatment centers are either very costly, or the lineup for the government beds can be years long. They are also few and far between. Especially for females, and even more so if you are under 19yrs old. You learn that there are quite a few recovery houses though. You find out that the government will pay for them to go there, and the name is “Recovery House” so you assume that things are about to get better.
For us they did. It was better for a short period. They went in with the best of intentions, but then without getting any treatment, and minimal meetings, over time, the addict won. It seems that in the experience that I watched, more than half of the people in the house would relapse and get kicked out or moved.
Spending time down on the strip, meeting a bunch of the young people that were there, I learned over time that they all know about the recovery houses. They can tell you which ones are good, “but they are full and you have to get on the list” or which ones you can get in right away, “Its okay, you get to get off the street for a while, and have showers and eat regular, you just gotta be careful not to get caught using, and make sure you go to a couple meetings every week.”
It truly was heart breaking for me to see. I learned humility, and realized how judgmental I really was, even though I thought I wasn’t. My reality… my truth has been forever changed. No matter what I saw, I could not pass judgment or I would be passing that same judgment on my kids, and who the hell am I to judge anything? What I felt was pain and compassion. Everyone I met had a sad story, and I can guarantee you that lie or not, there is no GOOD story that ends up on any strip using drugs! What I saw was pain and heartache, everywhere. Showing up with a bag of clothes, jackets, blankets or even just umbrella’s, would make so many people so happy. It would light up the day of someone who is living some of their darkest moments.
There are people that believe that doing that is wrong, because they believe you need the addict to be as uncomfortable as possible to move them out of their addiction, and I understand that, but as the father of 2 daughters that are addicted to one of the strongest opioids out there that is constantly killing people, I also believe that if the addict is already there living on the street, in the cold pouring rain, in a tent, shooting those drugs, they are at rock bottom and the only place lower is death.
I have already experienced the death of loved ones, and have just watched my friend go through the loss of his daughter. My train of thought, even though I get the tough love idea, is that if I can make a loved ones possible last few days a little more comfortable by showing them love and compassion and bringing them clothes, blankets or food, then I am going to do it. If they are to die, I will have to live with myself and the results of my choices. I will live better knowing I showed them compassion and that they are loved as well as knowing I made their last days more comfortable.
The girls addiction was much stronger than the fight to get clean at that point, and they ended up getting in trouble and kicked out of the recovery house. They went back to what they knew which was back to the strip. I tried to reason with the girls, but come on, trying to reason with some one that is busy trying to find their next fix is like as I came to call it “Herding Cats!” It is funny how even when confronted with something completely illogical we will still try to find logic in it.
The girls went back to the street and this is where for me days become weeks become months etc. I lost all track of time. I found I was extremely caught up in their addiction. It was consuming them, it was consuming me. There was no turning off that voice inside my head. It just wouldn’t shut up. It would play every scenario over and process all the info I could gather, but could not come up with a solution. I know that the solution is for them to have enough and decide to fight the addiction, but the trouble is keeping them alive long enough. One of my daughters has overdosed and been brought back by Naloxone over a dozen times. The last time took 3 blasts of Naloxone to bring her back.
How do you reason with someone that is so addicted, and so willing to do that to their own body? All you can do is watch or watch and pray. I have prayed a lot over the past year. I find it a perfect way to share my focused intent, love and energy. I find that just the act of speaking my intentions and releasing my thoughts verbally, allows me to hear it through my ears and re-catalogue it in a place that I can make better sense of it. I also find it seems to free up brain space for me to process more information.
Their mother and I continued to make trips to the strip, just checking in telling them we loved them, taking them for something to eat, and trying to at least spend a little time with our girls, because at the rate of overdoses, and deaths it is hard to believe they will survive especially with the odds being on two of them. One day when I was down there one of my girls told me she might end up on the news. She said that a reporter had been down there talking to people and that he had done an interview with her. In my head all I could think of was “oh no here we go again.”
It was a few days later when I woke up to being sent a link to a CBC Story. I tagged the link and was brought to a picture of one of my daughters and a story that made me cry. I remember thinking “Who wrote that? I have to thank them for not shredding my daughter and treating her with some compassion.”
It was Eric Rankin from CBC that wrote it. I did thank Eric, and I hope to someday sit with him and my daughters and watch them give a story of hope, love and success, but we are just at me finding Eric’s Story about my daughter, and that is where I will leave it for now. This was the 1st story I saw.
Then I got a link to the video that was played on CBC. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BG70kTLfS7w
Then I got this one… https://www.msn.com/en-ca/video/news/the-new-face-of-fentanyl-addiction-katis-story/vi-BBwhEgA
Then this one… https://ca.news.yahoo.com/face-fentanyl-addiction-katis-story-213901722.html
Then this…. http://reevelaw.ca/2016/09/the-new-face-of-fentanyl-addiction-katis-story/
Who knew that she would actually end up being the story? And so my day started.
The articles are from a little while ago, and a lot has happened since these articles were published, but I will write about that another day.
I actually thought that that was all I was going to write tonight, but I have been learning that life has a way of laughing at your plans and ensuring you change them. I just received a phone call as I was debating about publishing this. I always debate about putting this much of our lives out there for anyone to see, but in the end I do it anyway.
The phone call was from someone close to me. They called to tell me that one of their lifelong best friends just lost their 20 yr old brother to a fentanyl overdose in Richmond. Really? Only 20 yrs old. He had been clean for a few months, but some greedy ass wipe valued the $ more than his buddies brothers life!
And so it is another Life time.
Hold your loved ones close, value their love, energy and memories. Much love and respect to you all until I can find it in myself to write a little more.
This is the last of my 2016 posts to the blog. I will do 2017 in a separate article. Looks like 2016 was a rough year! It is also the year that I find out I have CPTSD.