Google+ Nymwars - Restored!

For those just learning about the Google+ suspension this past weekend, of this anonymously recovering individual, I'd be lying if I claimed that I didn't get kind of upset over it. Going on a flat-out tirade however, was not and still isn't a preferable option. Instead, I chose to act rather than to react. It's this same practice of choosing action over reaction which recently led me to cancel my Facebook account (hurrah!).

Plenty of folks have heard me rail over the years, both online and in the rooms, about what I honestly believe is an inherent need to preserve a reasonable yet acceptable level of personal anonymity. Accountability is an essential part of the ethics equation, and a measure of respectable credibility is only earned over the long haul. These principles apply regardless of online or real world venues.

Again, I wish to thank everyone who offered their support, and who continue to press on for sound internet privacy and personal identification policies. It is both an honor and a privilege to be counted as a member of this amazing community. =)

Warmest regards,

Chris O | fugitive247

Google+ Nymwars - Suspended!

The Google+ Real Names police wasted no time suspending my account. Thank you to everyone who's banging the drum regarding how Google+ judges what they consider an acceptable pseudonym. As one can plainly see from this afternoon's screen capture, the alpha-only name was rejected also.

Gee, let's see... So a non-trolling, generally polite, helpful, and witty human who's been running under the same moniker both online and in the real world since 1997 can't get any respect, huh? What's wrong with this picture?

Google+ Nymwars - My Turn!

Re-posted from Google+

Please forgive me if this post shows up beyond whatever circle(s) in which I may currently reside. It is public as well as targeted, so please feel free to re-share.

This eveninref="g, I received the all-dreaded notification that my current nom de guerre is in violation of the Google+ Real Names policy. I have little doubt that the nym by which I've been better known as since 1997, fugitive247, would certainly pass the permissible pseudonym test. There's a catch, though. Alpha-numeric nyms are not accepted within the name fields.

Many of my trusted friends already know the background behind "fugitive247" and why I've fought for more than 15 years to maintain some modicum of personal anonymity online. I will not re-state it within this post. Those who are curious are more than welcome to Google me (fugitive247).

In a private G+ message to +Natalie Villalobos (Aug 6, 2011), I stated the following:

"The Postmaster General of my township's USPS office knows that I, [redacted], am fugitive247 online, and I do answer to "fugi" IRL. Even my verified PayPal account goes to my 15 years-old "fugitive247" [email] account."

If fugitive247 is accepted by the Postmaster General of a United States Postal Service facility, surely there ought to be room for reasonable compromise where the G+ Real Names pseudonym exception is concerned. As the conditions currently stand, even submitting an alpha-only version (fugitive twofourseven) for review now, may likely result in suspension of my Google+ account. That's not exactly fair, is it?

If this matter hasn't reached satisfactory resolution by October 18th, the suspension will go into effect. Thank you for taking the time to read about yet another facet of the Google+ #nymwar

Sincerely,

Chris O., better known as fugitive247

Do dis nym make my butt look big?

(I can has vote pleeze? kthxbai!)

Will the Nym Wars ever arrive at some semblance of a reasonable compromise? Like a lot of folks these days, I tend to avoid commenting on this matter in the location where it's still being hotly contested, namely Google+. Why? Because, for the time being, I am still in violation of their anti-pseudonym policy. If this wasn't such an important issue, then as of this entry, why does a Google search query for nym wars yield around 1,560,000 results?

Don't get me wrong, I adore Google+ despite their insistence upon use of "real names." What confounds me is the myopic lack of general understanding why pseudonym use is indeed valid and necessary. Even one of America's best known founders, Benjamin Franklin, periodically used some clever noms de guerre. I can't help but wonder what Mr. Franklin would have to say about today's forced erosion of privacy, and subsequently, free speech.

About a month ago, I took a bit of risk by becoming personally proactive in self-defense. I privately contacted a Google+ VIP directly involved with the project and "came out" as it were. I also started a growing G+ circle of Google VIPs. That circle, along with my circles of veteran Newsvine alums, and my "besties" have permission to view my real name in "Other names." Not that I expect my offering to spare me from the public real names guillotine, however it's still better than doing nothing but debating endlessly in what's becoming a drone of white noise. As stated in the previous entry, my ego really isn't *that* big.

Anxiety in Dystopia

It seems like ages since the last entry, and even that one didn't feel adequate. I'm not pushing this entry to any of my social networks. If anyone who happens across tonight's little slice of weirdness likes it, please feel free to spread some link love, thanks.

With regard to the last entry, the practical application of "The Spirituality of Whatever" does have its limitations. Like now. There's a saying in the rooms that any given behavior isn't an "old behavior" (ie: pre-recovery) if one's still doing it. Stuffing via denial my personal concerns isn't exactly an old behavior. Rather, it's somewhat cyclical. Lately though, some older personal concerns keep gnawing at me and new ones are trying to exert dominance. I can't really talk openly about any of them, not now anyway.

I don't write about personal issues much any more. Maybe the sense of possibly being monitored by Big Brother makes me a tad paranoid. It's not like there's much true online anonymity left anymore, right? Then again, fifteen years ago, deep down in The Vault of Internet Eventualities a voice whispered, softly at first. Now that voice bellows and bears Louisville sluggers made of website TOS agreements and government legislation, all while sporting a Wal-Mart clearance aisle halo and a used-car-salesman smile...

"Be your true self," The Voice sweetly hisses. "But don't forget to share your most intimate details. We're friends, you and me. Good friends don't keep secrets. You do want to be my friend, right? What's your full legal name? Where do you live, work and play, and with whom? What's in your fridge? By the way, you're nearly out of toilet paper."

Oh gee thanks, creepy, intrusive harvester of too much information! Have your analytic algorithms determined my overall net worth? Do I make the cut? The Voice booms, "NO! We want you to fill out all the fields and not just the ones with the asterisks." Oh yeah? Is that all you've got? Bite my asterisks, buddy. All of them.

Ok, it's limited confession time. Without getting into specifics, I'm ambivalent about... Aw heck. Pardon the copypasta quickie. The original conversation was intended only for family of choice.

...many of you already know the background behind "fugitive247" and why I've fought for more than 15 years to maintain some modicum of personal anonymity online.

Folks, I'm simultaneously excited and near-panic stricken about the inevitability of having to publicly display my full name anywhere online. TOS registration matters not withstanding, this transition is being fueled for professional reasons. Before anyone suggests it, no, I have zero intention of starting brand new profiles on any of the services where I'm already registered.

Perhaps my biggest source of gut-gnawing apprehension is having to reconcile within myself the fact that I absolutely refuse to sanitize thousands of posts in which I mention specific 12 step recovery programs. I won't do it because it's disingenuous, period. As fugitive247, have I not developed some sense of credible transparency? Conversely, I sure don't want to publicly make myself appear, either as fugitive247 or Chris "Whomever," as a self-appointed representative of any anonymity based recovery resource. My ego really isn't that big, friends. =)

Why is this such a big deal to me? Mainly because I value Tradition Eleven. It's kind of doubtful that it's soon going to be amended to include internet as one of the venues which merits the maintenance of personal anonymity. Still, this is an example of how sometimes it's a hassle to have been in recovery since before ever going online and using a single nom de guerre the whole time, and certainly prior to the existence of social media. So modern internet convention now pretty much demands from me a degree compliance if I am to make continued progress in the Big Room. Will this make me a recovery sellout? Honestly, I'm working hard to quit judging myself harshly on this one matter, therefore others' critical opinions about this transition (which are really none of my business anyway) will likely amount to zilch in my book. I mean seriously, it's not like anyone's going to be able to repo my recovery... Just for today.

The Spirituality of Whatever

Not so long ago on Facebook:

"This status update serves as tangible support to the concept that employing the strategy of "Whatever" can be spiritually sound. It beats behaving like a complete asshole. Whatever."

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Often interpreted as a dismissive retort, there is a certain spirituality in exercising this principle. In doing so, the intent may be in greater alignment with a desire for peace, rather than to pursue an opportunity for unnecessary conflict. Recovery teaches us that humility and surrender are separate in their own rights. However, the two are conjoined as part of an overall healthier reality.

Herding Cats

Do you ever find that your interests and priorities are so scattered at times, that trying to carry out just a fraction of them seems like an exercise in futility? Organization and logical progression be damned; this is life on life's terms. Or rather, this has been my life on its own terms this winter, and it's become tiresome.

There's plenty of time management formulas which, when followed rigorously, purport the ability to turn even the most haphazard lifestyles into working models of personal efficiency. Really? On what planet? And how many random variables are taken into consideration in any given equation? Skeptical, me? You betcha.

A more sensible approach to goal setting that's frequently suggested to recovery newcomers is to compose a list of everything that person needs to accomplish. Then the list gets torn in half. This strategy aims to reduce the addict's natural propensity towards undertaking extreme all-or-nothing challenges. Sure, this initially sounds like promotion of mediocrity, but this isn't necessarily so.

In my pre-recovery life I was an administrative assistant for an OEM printing industry parts production facility. Even though the corporation itself was small, the responsibilities and skills required to ensure smooth operation were not. This fueled my perfectionist tendencies into the stratosphere for several years. When my disease finally rendered me unable to perform my job in a satisfactory manner, it was a severe blow to my ego. Addiction had reduced me from being The Hustle, to becoming The Hustled.

More about that another time, perhaps. Suffice it to say that the transition demanded learning certain truths regarding surrender, humility, and other things. My previous vocation didn't define me, but it played an integral role in who I was to become.

Back in 1995, a smart ol' coot in the rooms of the Capitol Beltway area, used to lay upon us all manner of knowledge. One of these gems from Tommy D. was that those of us who've been given this gift of recovery will often find ourselves having both a vocation and an avocation. As he explained it, one's vocation is what pays the bills, and one's avocation is the job that pays the soul. Over the course of many years, the lines between what I consider to be my vocation and avocation continue to be inextricably knit together, and I love it. So, what does any of this have to do with herding cats? /me snickers...

33 hours later...

Yesterday, having reached our limits of being home-bound by recent nasty weather, this family's HCIC (a.k.a Head Cats In Charge) decided that an outing was way overdue. Much to our relief and delight, travel to the far away land of West Plains was safe, pleasant, and relatively uneventful. Operative phrase: relatively uneventful. Of course challenges popped up before even leaving the house...

While walking to the car the youngest kitten falls into a patch of loose soil, moistened by the still melting snow. Yuck! Doggone it, her cute new outfit was fresh from the dryer less than an hour ago. No worries, we're going to the park first anyway, and we can pick her up another outfit before going to supper.

At the halfway point of Koshkonong ("Kosh" to us locals) Tween Kitten states that he's so hungry he's going to eat his brand new issue of Highlights. Naturally, Teen Kitten quickly falls into lock-step, and the two begin chanting for food. If Toddler Kitten hadn't been snoring, she too would've joined the conspiracy. We pull off in search of elusive, tasty, dairy-free units of sustenance. Finding safe food on-the-go for someone with severe dietary allergies, can be harder than one might assume. Also, it's downright scary when those whose vocation involves preparing food for others have zero clue what the ingredients are in those foods.

This illustrates a point that the concept of herding cats can represent both physical entities (people) and situations. Evolve, adapt, or die, kids. The world doesn't go on hold to accommodate a select few, no matter how valid the need. Choose the cats to be herded carefully, and be ready when necessary to spent time on unforeseen complications. Roughly an hour was lost as three fresh hamburgers were cooked, then consumed by the kittens.

A few hours later we managed to make it to a long overdue meeting. I was asked to read the Just For Today meditation. That's when it hit me, busy Mom Cat who's usually got more cats to herd than opportunities to enjoy a saucerful of milk sans interruption, that the trappings of life can become stressful as hell when I forget to simply live in the moment. ♥ =)

Cause & Effect (comic)

By fugitive247 | View this Toon at ToonDoo | Create your own Toon

Inventories "R" Us

Pinterest: Recovery ROCKS!!!

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Welcome fellow addicts, to everybody's favorite game show, Inventories "R" Us!

Being judgmental is a seemingly inescapable aspect of the human condition. It may as well be a requirement for citizenship in North America and other locales. But what value, if any, does it have within the context of recovery?

I'll be the first to admit that I can be fairly judgmental, and at some times more than others. This can be both a character defect and an asset. No, I'm not rationalizing a darn thing here. There's something amiss when folks leave steaming piles of bullshit laying around, and few, if anyone, calls out the offending parties. Even fewer will bother to remedy (read: take action upon) the situations when they occur.

So here's the deal. If you're an addict in recovery who, for whatever reason, takes offense at the following poem, first determine why you take issue with it. Chances are that there's some truth contained in its message with which you personally identify.

You justify your insides
By judging my outsides,
But what gives you the right?
That clearance Walmart halo
May be screwed on
Just a tad too tight.

Hey, that copypasta shtick
Is unoriginal at best,
And most of it's
the property of Hazelden,
So try giving it a rest.

Parroting bumper sticker platitudes
Designed to mimic gratitude,
And slogans by the score,
Doesn't earn you the cred
Which can't be bought in any store.

Hubris has a new face,
Worn by those who think they're deep.
Quit spamming the masses;
Instead write a blog
'Cause relentless duplicate wall posts
Come off as hackneyed and cheap.

Time is measured in quality,
Quantity is but a bonus.
Addiction doesn't care
About your time;
The bitch just wants to own us.

Firsthand Experience, Strength and Hope
(now that's some strong dope!)
Are key to how we heal some strife,
Along with service and steps,
To fix this collective broken life.

So, let's get real,
You and me,
Because I can't do
This recovery gig alone.
If we're going to judge each other,
Then let's assess how much we've grown.

Well, that's all the time we have this evening for tonight's round of Inventories "R" Us. The Dopeless Networks are currently undergoing upgrades and other transitional changes. Your patience is greatly appreciated. Please also feel free to tune into our sister station for the continuing adventures of a mischievous yarn junkie.

BringChange2Mind.org

This is a special appeal to all brothers and sisters in recovery for whom mental illness is anything but an "outside issue." We who are dually diagnosed can help effect positive change within our own support fellowships. This call to action is not about challenging established traditions; it's about validating our own self-worth, individually and collectively, within our recovery communities.

Official website: BringChange2Mind.org

Will #XA Meetings Online Keep You In Recovery?

One would have to be in some form of denial to discount the inherent benefits of attending f2f meetings. Still, there's this pervasive assumption that a large percentage of people in recovery *live* within a reasonable distance to any fellowship's meetings. This isn't necessarily so. Welcome to recovery in rural America where if meetings are scarce, then literature, telephones and broadband (if available), may be a 12-stepper's only reliable safety net.

Acts of Worship - film (pre-review)

Examples

Some folks in recovery might argue that celebrities in the throes of active disease are an outside issue. I humbly beg to differ. It's my belief that we, along with the general public, need to be reminded of the insanity that's part of the addiction package tour. Thank you Charlie Sheen, Amy Winehouse, et al, for being what's known as a good example of a bad example.

Being a Bipolar Addict

Preface: This unfinished post was written in late January 2010. Rather than continue to let it languish unpublished, it's my belief that sharing this unfinished entry is preferable to otherwise probably never having this firsthand experience of an a recovering dually-diagnosed addict, come to the fore. We *do* recover. Namaste'

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Living with any sort of mental illness is no picnic, regardless of the condition(s). Popular culture, despite claims and efforts to the contrary, appears to find perverse gratification in exploiting the infirmities of others. Mainstream media (MSM) is the most obvious perpetrator, eager to publicize stories which amplify negative stereotypes. Unfortunately, shock value generates revenue, plus no shortage of armchair critics.

It would be too easy to launch into a full-blown tirade along the lines of "how dare you," but to what effect? Doing so would invariably give more ammunition to those who least deserve it. Therefore, this writer's intent is simply to offer some experience, strength and hope.

Disclaimer: I am not a mental health or medical professional, nor am I a certified drug addictions counselor. Anyone seeking professional assistance with such issues is urged to consult their local accredited practitioners within these fields, thanks.

My indoctrination into the mental health industry came at age eight. No specifics will be offered, but I will take this opportunity to indirectly thank an old friend for founding the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network (RAINN). As a child, my initial diagnosis was good old-fashioned clinical depression. I didn't start using drugs until I was 12. Back then kids weren't recognized as possibly having BPD, and the diagnosis of PTSD was only assigned to war veterans.

There is a growing body of research which strongly suggests that early childhood trauma may be linked to the development of bipolar disorder. Then comes the typical pattern of self-medication in an attempt to regulate the mood swings inherent with BPD, or to stifle the PTSD in some manner, or both. It certainly didn't help matters that I was already genetically predisposed to become an addict.

Hell hath many suburbs. Mental illness is one of them. So is addiction. When these neighborhoods overlap, treacherous war zones abound, leaving no one unscathed.

I self-medicated for several decades, with a few periodic interruptions when one mental health practitioner or another would deem me: 1) a threat to myself; 2) a threat to others; and 3) in need of inpatient treatment. Lovely. I became an FDA lab rat for Nortriptyline at age 13, forced to take 1000mg doses, which at that time was the maximum suggested for adults. It is important to note that as an adolescent I still hadn't even been properly diagnosed.

There were a few stretches of abstinence from self-medication. A few were during various spiritual "field trips" where I experienced temporary zeal for one religion or another. There were also a couple of 12-step recovery test runs. The recovery was genuine, but so was my still undiagnosed BPD. Both recovery test runs lasted over a year each, and provided enough of the valuable experiences necessary to make me want to return.

My last (and hopefully final) tour of active addiction led me to pursue more potent drugs, and in steadily increasing quantities than ever before. It was a deadly cycle perpetuated between an organically skewed neurochemistry, additional external chemicals ingested, and deep psychological illness. Add to this nightmare the concept of spiritual bankruptcy. If Hell's suburbs recognized democracy, the severity of each disease component might have qualified as a voting district within this individual. The item under consideration was whether or not to keep living, and if so, in what manner?

In late 1994, I began to realize that self-medicating was no longer working. One can only trash their dopamine receptors for so long before there's a major gray matter rebellion. For me this manifested in completely reckless, irresponsible, and frequently dangerous behaviors. This was partly because I clutched fiercely to denial of the depths to which I'd sunk, but mostly I'd all but lost hope that my life could ever become manageable again. At that point "getting better" wasn't an aspiration; it was a foolish fantasy.

Relief came in a roundabout way in late January of 1995. My behaviors finally caught up with me, leading to an arrest. My trial didn't happen until late May. Part of the conditions of my pre-trial release mandated that I be enrolled in a court designated outpatient addictions treatment program. I'd already resumed 12-step participation on my own before this legal condition was issued, but 12-step alone was viewed as insufficient by the court system.

By this time my distrust of the mental health industry had reached epic proportions, and with good reason.

Another Lap Around The Sun

Happy Autumn, folks. As basically not dying would warrant, yesterday marked another natal anniversary. I guess it's time to admit it: I am now middle-aged. That pesky personal bugaboo, vanity, wants me to buy wholesale into the popular media notion that getting older barely escapes qualifying as a criminal activity. Rationale, along with well wishes from some of my favorite people on Earth, continues to help me tell my petty little ego to go f*ck itself. So what if my few gray hairs are plotting to overthrow those which haven't yet succumbed. I'm getting pretty doggone good at knitting hats!

Speaking of annual celebrations, if it weren't for staying clean no matter what, this grateful recovering addict would literally bet the farm that using again would pretty much guarantee that I'd not see another "belly button" birthday. I'm not willing to take that gamble, just for today. Unfortunately, within the past few days, a couple of public figures have left this plane of existence. Names needn't be mentioned. It's just that one of them fought the good fight, and in doing so gained an awesome extension on his life journey. The other one sadly, never quite "got" it even though he'd reportedly been "around" the rooms for a few years.

As it typically happens in these types of situations, the debate over fellowship anonymity, per Tradition Eleven, have built up a new head of steam. Naturally, there are varying degrees of acceptance and rejection. There are even some who boldly (bravely? foolishly?) go so far as to sanction the voluntary breaking of one's own anonymity. Hey, what about anonymity with transparency? It's this addict's opinion that until the time is upon us when the actions of a/an [insert fellowship name] Anonymous member does not potentially have a negative impact on 12-step recovery in general; that discretionary protection remains the driving principle behind Tradition Eleven. Do I believe that Tradition Eleven be updated to address issues of online anonymity? Well, duh!!! =)

One last item to note before I can consider this entry is done... I've reconsidered my earlier position on writing a themed blog. Coming soon to an .rss feed near you, please welcome Dopeless Knitter. Hey, I couldn't *not* do it. ♥

Medicated America

CAUTION: Video is NSFW/NSFK (language)

In 1999, late comedian George Carlin performed an HBO special entitled "You Are All Diseased." Recently there was a Newsvine discussion of George F. Will's Washington Post op-ed piece from February 28th of this year. In it Mr. Will offered strong examples that the veritable bible of mental illness diagnoses

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*Update* Here's the no-holds-barred assessment of what the implications now ARE for American citizens. Please read and forward this info, thanks!

CONFIRMED: Psychiatric Manual Labels free Thinkers, non conformers as Mentally Ill http://www.federaljack.com/?p=17540

Adrift in a Sea of Disconnection

By fugitive247 | View this Toon at ToonDoo | Create your own Toon

 

Sometimes it's necessary to step back and throw a flag on a play or two. The situations matter in varying degrees, but often not as much as with how they're dealt. A realistic overall assessment can be had by analyzing some key components.

• Why does this situation exist?
• What's my part in this situation?
• What, if any, are my obligations in this matter?
• Where does this situation's resolution fit within the scope of other priorities?

For many it's normal to react with unproductive learned behaviors rather than to decisively act in a positive manner. If a situation truly isn't one's responsibility then it's far better to excuse oneself quietly, instead of issuing obnoxious, loud parting shots.

Lately though, it's been more a matter of feeling disconnected from... a lot. This sensation has been weaving its corrosive, snaky tendrils throughout all aspects of my [sic] existence to the point where some have expressed concern.

From an objective standpoint it would appear that I'm going through some garden variety Seasonal Affective Disorder, clinical depression, or other blanket diagnosis. Strangers can play amateur analyst to their hearts' content. Friends, however, take the time to say hello whenever concerns may arise about the well-being of others.

The point is that there's no shortage of apathy. There's a popular sentiment that love is the opposite of hate. I counter with my belief that hate is not love's antonym; it's apathy. I cannot rationally expect anyone to pull me out of this lingering funk, but I can project towards others the same positive actions that make my life worthwhile.

12 step recovery teaches that gratitude is an "action" vs. simply an emotion. In this vein, wouldn't logic dictate that "compassion" is also an "action" or behavior? Anyone can claim to care. The difference between an assertion and reality is acting upon that claim.

Brand What? Explorations and Motivations

A few weeks ago I said that I wanted to resume explorations of this evolving rabbit hole commonly referred to as the internet. It had been over a year since my site host went belly-up, rendering the earlier incarnation of Dopeless Enigmaniac, MIA. Blog-wise, I was virtually rudderless, not wanting to revive any of my older blogs. Still, I was happily busy with other matters which generally kept me offline anyway.

This hiatus gave me time to think between rounds of diaper changes and other aspects of Mommydom. Not so quietly, I longed to be blogging, mentally composing grand entries while obsessively knitting little things. The subjects entertained were varied, as is typically my pattern. Now that I can write a little more regularly again, there's this movement towards developing personal brands.

Personal whats? You've got to be friggin' kidding me, right? Wrong. Disgustingly wrong, from what I've observed. Deliberately developing a personal brand can be too easily equated with allowing oneself to be profiled, cross-filed, defiled... Shannon Paul illustrates this condition in a decidedly more eloquent and thorough manner. However, I like my summation too:

Labels are for soup cans.
Crap! There's a label on my ass.
It says "soup can."

So, is some disingenuous, carefully crafted personal brand in my future? Ugh. Absolutely not.

Do I plan to commit any form of Web 2.0 suicide in an attempt to sanitize my online presence? Nope. Why bother? If the only impact I ever make is not to be a phony, then I retain both my integrity and self-respect.

Am I going to limit my writing only to select themes? Hardly! The world is full of curiosities, beautiful and horrific, innovative and traditional, humorous and solemn, evocative and mundane. I intend to savor and relate as many of these experiences as possible.

Recovery Spirituality Peg and the 12-Step Hole

What follows below is my response to a Google Wave query on Unitarian Universalist's views regarding health and faith.

The topics of faith and health are each personally subjective from any individual's standpoint. Several studies have been conducted over the past few years which suggest a strong correlation between spirituality and health.

My primary health interest is substance addictions recovery (alcohol, street drugs & prescriptions inclusive), relative to 12-step self-help methodology. I see Unitarian Universalism as being a logical accompaniment to addicts earnestly seeking recovery, who struggle with the 12-step precept of this system's reliance upon an omnipotent "Higher Power" entity.

Tracing back through 12-step history, it's no secret that its basic tenets were initially constructed upon overtly Christian teachings. Many decades later, today's world-wide 12-step membership base includes people from all socio-economic brackets, and belief systems.

What had been glaringly absent from the traditional 12-step model was consideration for Atheists and polytheists in recovery. Many would undoubtedly argue that no such biases exist within the modern scope of 12-step society. Unfortunately, this Pagan has experienced a far different reality, having actually been verbally dehumanized (and even physically threatened!) in meetings for holding true to my non-mainstream spiritual beliefs.

UUism, being all-inclusive, allows for validation of one's self-worth, independent from issues of spirituality. Regardless of any specific treatment model, what recovering addict couldn't find inherent value in this?

Further information on the UU Addictions Ministry can be found on the Unitarian Universalist Association's official website: http://www.uua.org/leaders/leaderslibrary/addictionsministry/

Belief systems aside, I find this, overheard many 24-hours ago, to hold some merit (source unknown)...

Religion is for people who don't want to end up in hell when they die.
Spirituality is for those of us who have already been through hell- and don't want to return!

New Year's Resolutions, really?

There are many reasons for poor NYR outcomes. Much of this can be attributed to a lack of skills for goal setting, which may include planning, developing a support system, or finding at least one appropriate role model. More frequently though, the NYRs themselves are formulated on unrealistic expectations. Ouch.

Realistic or not, there are some goals which are harder to achieve than others. Just ask any recovering addict who's been clean for a few 24-hours -and- has put forth the effort necessary to get more than that which was lost while using. ;oD

Returning to realistic NYRs, how about this list?

fugi's 2010 resolutions

• not get struck by lightning
• not participate in any Ponzi schemes
• knit more of my yarn stash than add to it (gulp!)
• resume bonsai
• reduce household excesses (♥ Freecycle™)
• keep learning, doing and sharing a wide variety of new things
• swear less, or at least more creatively
• remember not to take myself so fucking seriously

Ok, I'm satisfied with this year's objectives. Hey, 2010... Game ON. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.