Drugs + "One Man's Story" + Hurt (Johnny Cash)

 

Drugs – What’s it like ?

 

“I remember before I tried heroin, I asked people what it was like. They said “it’s like a burst of energy, a rush that takes your breath, it’s the best feeling ever, I don’t know how to explain it really. It's like a really strong pain pill, but you'll be nodding off’ And they were right, but now if someone were to ever ask me what it’s like, I would tell them.

 

‘It’s like spending every single penny you ever had, on drugs.

It’s like going days without eating even though you were starving, but you needed dope more.

It’s like having to lie to every family and friend you had ever had.

It’s like waking up hating yourself from the shame and guilt.

It’s like going into withdrawals every 8 hours unless you had more dope to do. (And you usually didn’t)

It’s like never attending any family event because you were too high or too sick.

It’s like everyone eventually stopped inviting you to events. And even talking to you.

It's like crying yourself to sleep every single night because your children got taken.

It’s like knowing you have one more chance to get better before your child gets adopted and still choosing that bag.

It's like asking others how your own blood child is doing.

It's watching everyone around you succeed and yet you’re crumbling.

It’s like everything was on your drug dealers time. If they said five hours. You’ll wait five hours in a car.

It’s like stealing everything worth value for dope. No matter how sentimental it was to you, or someone else.

It’s like losing so much weight you can’t fit into any of your clothes.

It’s like losing everything you’ve ever owned in your entire life.

It’s like nobody believing a word you said, even if it was the truth.

It’s like being a prisoner inside your own head.

It’s like contemplating suicide every single day.

It’s like never being scared to die, because that’s what you wanted.

It’s like trying to shut your brain up for even five minutes. It was worth that little time of peace.

It’s like seeing your family cry for you to stop, only for you to leave and go get high. Because stopping wasn’t an option. It wasn’t possible.

It’s like you’d do absolutely anything for more. And you did.

It’s like everyone hating you no matter where you went, because they knew you were a drug addict.

You'll miss out on your children and they'll be grown before you Know it. You'd kill for your child and do any and everything for them yet you won't be able to get clean for them and we actually turn out to be the ones who hurt them the most.

It’s like overdosing and going to get high right after.

It’s like walking into rehab 100 pounds with the clothes on your back and being scared to death.

It’s like giving your ENTIRE LIFE AWAY.

So if you’re ever curious like I was, please at least know the truth. CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT, and it WILL KILL YOU TOO”

 

One Man’s Story : “ I will zip you up “

 

"My daughter was clean for just over a year from using heroin.

She kicked the dragon square in the balls and I didn’t think she was ever gonna look back for it.

She promised me that she’s NEVER going back to H -

She said “Daddy, I don’t want to go back to that stuff ever again”.

I remind her what I told her at the Narcan meeting:

“If you can’t kick the dragon for good I will be the one to zip you up, but I will be with you every step of the way when you need me”.

I don’t know why she didn’t call me like she promised.

It hurts so bad that she didn’t call.

Now before you get all pissy with me for saying that I will zip her up, You have got to understand my daughter’s and my relationship.

It’s a loving relationship that shines.

I would ALWAYS be there to bail her out of whatever she got herself into, but now here I was, a father who was desperate for my daughter NEVER TO USE AGAIN and didn’t know how else to put it.

I thought the Love she had for me would keep her from going back to that drug ever again.

Well, that didn’t happen.

At 5:50 pm I got the call from the Det at Eastlake Police that my daughter was found dead in her bed from an overdose.

I immediately fell to my knees in the snow and began to cry like a baby.

I could not believe that my Tigger had done this.

I tell the Det that I am on my way and got there in record time.

STOP READING HERE cause it’s going to be very descriptive.

Just stop here and know I love her and kept my word to her.

... but on the other hand I need everyone to understand how very bad this shit is so you NEVER have to experience what we are right now.

I walked up the stairs to her room and there was Karisten sitting in her bed.

She had hit such an lethal dose that when she went into a hemorrhaging arrest that she sat up from her pillows she was propped on in her bed, had her arms straight out with a slight bend at the elbow, fists clenched, with her thumbs tucked under her fingers grasping so tight at what looked like she was trying to grab life back in her.

She was all blue faced,veins out, had a little blood from her nose and her teeth were so tight together that her mouth wouldn’t open.

I was told I couldn’t touch my daughter in case there was any lethal powder still on her.

I ask for gloves and glove up cause I’ll be damned if I’m not going to help my daughter One last time or hug her and let her know I Love her.

Well, I kept my word and spread the bag out and carefully placed her in it to say goodbye to her so they can find out what it was that she took.

I zipped her up in her body bag and helped them carefully place her on the cot.

I’m not looking for pity or trolling for comments.

I just want ALL of you to know that no matter who you are or what you do or how perfect you think someone is, that this Heroin shit can come into anybody’s life and destroy it.

Do not be blind to this.

AND DO NOT LET THIS DRUG FOOL YOU!!!

Please, please, please, wrap your arms around your loved ones and let them know how much you care and love them, because tomorrow is never guaranteed and I urge you all to share this message.

Maybe, just maybe, it’ll help another family.

Rest easy, Karisten Lyn Shermann.

I miss you so much, my heart is broken, and I LOVE YOU so very very much."

Credit: Tim Sherman

 

Hurt

Johnny Cash

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real

The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end

And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair

Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I'm still right here

What have I become? …

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

Here is the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8AHCfZTRGiI&list=RDEMNfF3HO0OImv4t7q2MRZtWw&start_radio=1

" You Say " Lauren Daigle

 

You Say

Lauren Daigle

I keep fighting voices in my mind that say I'm not enough
Every single lie that tells me I will never measure up

Am I more than just the sum of every high and every low
Remind me once again just who I am because I need to know
Ooh-oh

You say I am loved when I can't feel a thing
You say I am strong when I think I am weak
And you say I am held when I am falling short
And when I don't belong, oh You say I am Yours
And I believe (I)
Oh, I believe (I)
What You say of me (I)
I believe

The only thing that matters now is everything You think of me
In You I find my worth, in You I find my identity
Ooh-oh

You say I am loved when I can't feel a thing….

Taking all I have, and now I'm laying it at Your feet
You have every failure, God, You have every victory
Ooh-oh

You say I am loved when I can't feel a thing….

Here is the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HqpNGYbcy3U&ab_channel=7clouds

Three Red Marbles

Three Red Marbles

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.

Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr.. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.

'Hello Barry, how are you today?'

'H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure look good..'

'They are good, Barry.. How's your Ma?'

'Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time.'

'Good. Anything I can help you with?'

'No, Sir.

Jus' admirin' them peas.'

'Would you like to take some home?' asked Mr. Miller.

'No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with.'

'Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?'

'All I got's my prize marble here.'

'Is that right? Let me see it' said Miller.

'Here 'tis. She's a dandy.'

'I can see that. Hmm mmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?' the store owner asked..

'Not zackley but almost.'

'Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble'. Mr. Miller told the boy.

'Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.'

Mrs... Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me.

With a smile she said, 'There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances.. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever..

When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store.'

I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket.

Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes...

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

'Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about.

They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size.....they came to pay their debt.'

'We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,' she confided, 'but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho ..'

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

The Moral :

We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath.

Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles:

A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself...

An unexpected phone call from an old friend .....

Green stoplights on your way to work...

The fastest line at the grocery store...

A good sing-along song on the radio...

Your keys found right where you left them.

 

IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER THAT TELLS WHAT KIND OF LIFE YOU HAVE LIVED

 

" Wisdom of a Teacher "

 

Wisdom of a Teacher

An old man meets a young man who asks:

“Do you remember me?”

And the old man says no. Then the young man tells him he was his student, And the teacher asks:

“What do you do, what do you do in life?”

The young man answers:

“Well, I became a teacher.”

“ah, how good, like me?” Asks the old man.

“Well, yes. In fact, I became a teacher because you inspired me to be like you.”

The old man, curious, asks the young man at what time he decided to become a teacher. And the young man tells him the following story:

“One day, a friend of mine, also a student, came in with a nice new watch, and I decided I wanted it.

I stole it, I took it out of his pocket.

Shortly after, my friend noticed the his watch was missing and immediately complained to our teacher, who was you.

Then you addressed the class saying, ‘This student's watch was stolen during classes today. Whoever stole it, please return it.’

I didn't give it back because I didn't want to.

You closed the door and told us all to stand up and form a circle.

You were going to search our pockets one by one until the watch was found.

However, you told us to close our eyes, because you would only look for his watch if we all had our eyes closed.

We did as instructed.

You went from pocket to pocket, and when you went through my pocket, you found the watch and took it. You kept searching everyone's pockets, and when you were done you said ‘open your eyes. We have the watch.’

You didn't tell on me and you never mentioned the episode. You never said who stole the watch either. That day you saved my dignity forever. It was the most shameful day of my life.

But this is also the day I decided not to become a thief, a bad person, etc. You never said anything, nor did you even scold me or take me aside to give me a moral lesson.

I received your message clearly.

Thanks to you, I understood what a real educator needs to do.

Do you remember this episode, professor?

The old professor answered, ‘Yes, I remember the situation with the stolen watch, which I was looking for in everyone’s pocket. I didn't remember you, because I also closed my eyes while looking.’

This is the essence of teaching:

If to correct you must humiliate; you don't know how to teach.”

 

Wisdom from a farmer

 

Wisdom from a Farmer

 

There was a farmer who grew excellent quality corn. Every year he won the award for the best grown corn. One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learned something interesting about how he grew it. The reporter discovered that the farmer shared his seed corn with his neighbours. “How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbours when they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?” the reporter asked.

“Why sir,” said the farmer, “Didn’t you know? The wind picks up pollen from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my neighbours grow inferior corn, cross-pollination will steadily degrade the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must help my neighbours grow good corn.”

 

So is with our lives... Those who want to live meaningfully and well must help enrich the lives of others, for the value of a life is measured by the lives it touches. And those who choose to be happy must help others find happiness, for the welfare of each is bound up with the welfare of all...