Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Teamwork Makes the Dream Work!

"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world."
Anne Frank
I feel like I am the tree in the woods. You know, that tree. Everyone wonders about it. If it falls. If it falls and no one is around to hear it... The tree that may or may not fall at all if gone undetected. That may or may not make a sound. That may or may not even be rooted into the ground to begin with.

I have gotten off my ass a whole handful of times and run around Sanatoga, PA so far. I've wiped more sweat out of the inside of my elbows and back of my neck than I would care to admit. I have piles of damp, cold clothes around the house that need to make a trip into the washer before I can throw them on again to run and I have collectively put about 15 miles on my shoes thus far.  My grandmother tells me to knock it off, that this won't change things. She says that if all of our efforts before my mom passed weren't enough that, surely, running in circles around a problem won't resolve it. People laugh, every time I say I am doing this. Like there is no other reaction. I'd get more support if I said I took up an addiction I believe. At least I wouldn't get laughed at.

Let's be honest. I don't think I enjoy running. Not really. I mean, I'm out of breath and insecure the entire time. And 43 minutes of running around feeling like a spotlight is on your stupid looking self isn't pleasurable. My insecurities seem to fuel me to try and get back home sooner and hope I'm forgotten again but when I get home I know I am only that much closer to doing it all over again the next day. I'm beginning to wonder how long I will need before I think I don't look like a fallen tree with bright shoes on. Maybe I never will. Maybe I will just begin to understand that even a tree with bright shoes has the right to do something, no matter how silly looking. Maybe I will understand that anyone that wants to laugh and discourage change is but a leaf that can fall from my ass end.

If you're reading this, you are at least mildly interested in the fact that this is taking place, people are dying figuratively and literally. That... or you like running. Or trees. Or something. Regardless of why.... while you are reading this there are people around you closer than you'd think (don't go and hug the lady next to you at Starbucks right now. I'm not talking about her) that have emotional scarring so deep and ugly that they would rather wear a mask everyday than spend even 43 minutes in the spot light feeling like they aren't good enough or capable enough to be more than a spectacle. They use drugs as a mask. Just the way I use staring down at my feet.

You would tell me to look up and know that I have nothing to be ashamed of, right?
Have you considered how many addicts could use those words of encouragement?
The worst thing that can happen when we step outside of our comfort zone is we find more reason to appreciate what we have. Plus, a tree that falls and is noticed, can be picked up and turned into so much more.

"If at first an idea isn't absurd there is no hope for it."
Overcoming Addiction Quote by Albert Einstein

Mommy, I take you with me, every step of the way.



Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Forced to Deal with what I Feel.

Withdrawal Symptoms Anxiety Restlessness Irritability Insomnia Headaches Poor concentration Depression Social isolation Sweating Racing heart Palpitations Muscle tension Tightness in the chest Difficulty breathing Tremors Nausea, vomiting, or diarrhea Grand mal seizures Heart attacks Strokes Hallucinations Delirium Anything worth it won't be easy. Anything easy won't be worth it.


I was going to piss and moan about my shin splints, side stitches, blisters, and sweat. But after reading what a person goes through during withdrawal... who the hell am I to complain? How could I quit over this little stuff when we tell addicts to keep going while they suffer through much worse?

new music for you guys while you read.
because I think music is important.
i hope you hear the song I'm singing.
...more bars to come.
i hope you see the point I'm making.
....
 Look around you're world pretty baby. Is it everything you'd hoped it'd be?



RUN 26.2 MILES IN THEIR SHOES

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Over 100 People Will Die On My Day Off Today.

"Every day in the United States, 113 people die as a result of drug overdose,
and another 6,748 are treated in emergency departments (ED) for the misuse or abuse of drugs."

Every. Single. Day.

Today is my first "day off". But that does not mean is it a day off from the issue at hand.
113 People in one day. Gone. To Drugs.
That's almost 5 people an hour in the US alone that will be lost.
That's 10 parents an hour left heartbroken.
Who knows how many sons and daughters. Friends.
We have a sticky web spun around that so many people have been caught in.
We need to set eachother free.


My last day seeing my mother was an ugly day.
She was only 1/113.

This is my last photo of her.
This is no way to remember someone.

HELP ME CHANGE THE BIG PICTURE!

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Call A Cab & Call It Quits, Kid

Legs are sore as hell.
Blister on left foot hurts so badly.
Blister on right foot better stay off my radar.
Bandaid on blister on left foot was a bad idea.
Now there is a blister from where the bandaid rubbed its neighbor toe.
Pandora quit working after it played it's first song.
So all I could hear what myself run.
I felt like Ironman.
Not in a good way.
Every time I had to listen to my foot hit the ground
I envisioned a lead weight breaking through concrete.
There were no sprinklers today.
My shoes hurt so f**king badly that I took them off.
That last 1/3 of my already lame excuse for a run
was done shoeless.
I ended up arguing with my deceased mother in my head.
Because somehow today was her fault.
Miserable.






RELAPSE.
tomorrow is a new day, I guess.
this is harder than it sounds. 


DONATE TO REHABILITATE 


side note: blister count: 3 / hill: 2 Shannon: 1 / fml

HILLS & BLISTERS!

So yesterday was interesting. I turned up my pandora and tied up my laces. Ran about a quarter of a mile further in a minute less time than the day prior. (I just had to spend the last 5 minutes trying to figure out if the appropriate word for my last sentence was "further" or "farther", did I make the best choice?)  My improvement was nothing earthshaking and with most of my thanks to Missy Elliot (rump shaken both ways make you do a double take... I was in my groove. haha). It was hot and I still felt stupid. I was wondering why I never think to pee before I leave. I realized a few things, too.
Mile Count Yesterday: 2.72
I feel more judged when I run through the development with big houses and nice cars than I do in the first development I pass through with less of the luxury. It's probably in my head. Who would really know. But I feel like I stand out more in a better development. In my old ratty work shirt and rolled up shorts. I feel like they are all looking at me and wondering why I don't just go to the gym or something.
I relate that feeling to an addict in many ways. The discomfort they likely feel went going in to an environment they are not used to. Like, all eyes are on them waiting for them to pick up the wrong fork at a restaurant they have no business in. Not having all of the same "privilege" and wondering why some people are born into one skin while others are not. I also realized that there are a lot of sprinklers running and there is no sense in wasting them by not running through them!
Sprinkler Count Yesterday: 4
Ultimately, the most important part to remember is that we are all the same person. We work for what we have and we have struggles that people outside our minds front door don't know of. So, whether I am in the rich development or the ghetto... I am running towards a goal and so is everyone around me in their own way. We all even out.
Common ground is so much easier to navigate along. 

So, yesterday I also made it up that damned hill before I reached home. And I wanted to just shake my ass and say WHO'S YOUR DADDY to the pavement. But, fearing the thought of looking even more ridiculous, I held it inside. I also earned my first two blisters. Which lets me know I will be needing new shoes. BOO SHOES! Any advice on good, inexpensive places to look for a reliable pair is appreciated!
Hill: 1 Shannon: 1 
Blister Count Yesterday: 2

Today, I am sore and walking around like a penguin. I can't completely promise that I will get back up if I sit down on the toilet today to pee. I'm thinking I'll do more of a hover and hope for the best. I am going to take one last run tonight before my break day. And I am going to try and make it double the length. So, with that said... Thanks for everyone joining me on my journey so far!

Remember, we are all in this together. No matter what "this" is, we are a team. It's never not okay to ask for help. It's never the wrong time to offer a hand, a shoulder, or an ear.
"We all need somebody to lean on!"

Foward Motion! Let's keep it Going!!

Sidenote: my boyfriend has been trying to get me to eat eggs for over two years now. I have refused as long as I've known him. Just a moment ago, while I was proofreading this, he dropped the bomb.

"You know, eating eggs would probably be great for your marathon training" 
followed by ramblings he found on google to prove him right.

Sneaky Little Bastard. Check. Mate.
I'm off to go eat breakfast now. Eggs it is.

Friday, July 25, 2014

ground zero

My First Run was a BUST

I told my boyfriend that I was going to run a marathon and he giggled. I told him again and he looked at me for a minute before deciding what to say next (smart man)... It was 6 pm and I told him I was going for a run and I was going to run a motherf**king marathon- not tonight, not tomorrow, but soon. So, after a 3-4 minute talk (that's a long winded conversation with my introverted boyfriend.... he told me that I better not come home until 7 pm from this run if a marathon is what I have in mind.
Support. and Motivation.
I needed that.
I felt stupid even telling him I wanted to do this.
So, when he decided to tell me I could do it instead of tell me I was crazy...

I should have said thanks for that.

So, I laced up my shoes and turned on my pandora and left. I felt stupid. ABSOLUTELY STUPID. Running around looking like a three legged flamingo. I passed so many people. I watched my feet. I knew they were looking at me and thinking about how ridiculous I looked. I was red, huffing and puffing, dragging my feet, fighting a side stitch, and I was wondering why I even thought this was a good idea.

But, I made it 2.57 miles. My pace was slow. I had to pee. I wanted a drink. I realized that I live on the top of a hill. So no matter what the hell I did, I had to climb a hill to get back to my house and sit my butt down. UGH. I have never disliked my little one bedroom apartment as much as I did yesterday at the moment I realized there was no way out of finishing my already humiliating trip with a hill.

I made it home. I peed. I grabbed a drink. And my family was happy to see I tried. No one laughed when I told them I didn't even reach 3 miles. They told me I did well and that today I would do even better.


And I will.





It would have been so much harder. I might not have even left my apartment last night to try at all... if it hadn't have been for the encouragement and support of my family. My sons both told me that they liked my shoes and my bright shoelaces. My boyfriend didn't laugh at me. They think I can do it. And that is why I can.
I'm just trying to go for a run. Can you imagine how hard it would be for someone to set down a drug if they didn't have that support? Something to consider..................




Please Show YOUR Support
DONATE TO REHABILITATE 


PLEASE, STAND BESIDE ME.
No daughter/mother/friend should be left crying in your memory when they could be smiling in your presence. 

Thursday, July 24, 2014

MY PURPOSE.

I couldn't sleep last night. 
There was a fire inside me that kept me awake.
Tossing and turning.
Trying to extinguish the flame.
But I had no control over the idea that was consuming me.
I imagine only an addict could relate. 


My name is Shannon. I'm 25. I have a few accomplishments I guess, but not many. Honestly, I am a quarter of the way through my life and I am feeling it more each day. Of those 25 years, I have lived the last 3 without the company of my mother, Lori. She passed away 1/7/2011 of a drug overdose. In this post I will share a little bit about my experience with that and explain how it led me to this point.

MISSION: "ROAD TO RECOVERY"
I'm running a Marathon.
Holy Shit.
I can barely run to the mailbox.

REASON: INFORM! INCLUDE! INITIATE CHANGE!
Addiction is a SICKNESS not a DECISION.
Recovery is a LIFESTYLE not a DAY TRIP.
It takes the help of MANY for ONE to reach the finish line.

DETAILS: Philadelphia Marathon, Sun. Nov. 23, 2014
7:00 A.M.
Holy Shit.


I am doing this because it will be hard for me. Because it will require a lifestyle change. Because it will suck and I will not enjoy it all the time. Because when I am finished, with the help and interest of others pushing me forward, I will be glad I struggled through it. I am doing this because I want to feel the hardship of an addict. When my body tells me to do one thing and I have to push my mind until I do another. And most of all I am doing this because I feel there is no voice to represent the lives affected by addiction. I am a part of too many conversations that label drug addicts as lost causes, losers, or people with their priorities out of whack. They are forgotten as people and regarded as problems. 

My mother was a person. She could make anyone laugh in an instant. I once had an $800 phone bill strictly from calling my mom during a tough time in my life. She would talk me out of my own mind again and again. She never denied my call or discouraged me. Her own life, a whirlwind of troubles and tears and try after try to get away from her addiction. Still, she always answered. Selfless, loving, and now gone. I can't help but cry sharing this little paragraph of her life and her love. Because there is so little left of her. People don't remember her. Not the way she sang like an angel. Not the way she poured too much french vanilla creamer into her coffee each morning. Not the way her blue eyes twinkled. Hell, I hardly remember. I hadn't taken the time to memorize her features while I was hating her flaws.

Eventually, I started denying her calls. I turned my back to her tough times. I expected her failure. And after I lost faith she lost strength. On January 3rd, 2011 my mom was found unconscious, blue, and near gone. She was taken to Phoenixville Hospital where she stayed in the ICU until January 6th when she was moved to hospice. She passed away with the help of morphine on January 7th, 2011. I had to sign paperwork like the bottom of a birthday card allowing her to be taken off life support, letting go of my mother. Another wonderful person lost to drugs.

I can look at my phone a million times and wish for it to ring with "Mamasan" on my screen but I can never get that call for help back.

Point is, we are ignoring the calls. We are expecting failure. We, as a society, have forgotten the person behind the problem. We don't push them. We don't believe they can do it. We don't realize how much power we have to help.

I want to remind you all. If you can support me on a 4 month journey and a 7+ hour round in hell, you can support someone else also fighting to find the light at the end of a tunnel. You can be the change you wish to see in the world. 

Help me give people back their names. 
Help me give people back their lives.
Help me answer their call.


"Knowing is not enough, we must apply. Willing is not enough, we must do." - Bruce Lee