Chapters of my life, and loving the bounce

Chapter 1

jessicadoyle_sunset.jpgI walked down the sidewalk and
fell into a deep hole.
I couldn’t get out and I couldn’t fugure out why.
It wasn’t my fault.
It took a long time to get out.

Chapter 2

I walked down the sidewalk and
fell into the same hole again.
I couldn’t understand.
It wasn’t my fault.
This time it was easier to get out.

Chapter 3

I walked down the sidewalk and fell into the same hole again.
This time I understood why and it was my fault.
This time it was easier to get out.

Chapter 4

I walked down the sidewalk and saw the same big hole.
I walked around it.
I didn’t fall into that hole.

Chapter 5

I chose another sidewalk.

Chapters of my life – Written by Portia Nelson. I have noticed a few different versions of this poem, entitled Autobiography in Five Short Chapters floating around. The version above is the one I was exposed to first. I guess first impressions stick sometimes… food for thought…

I went to the doctor a few weeks ago. She mentioned to be aware of my habits and that I am only in the early stages of recovery from addiction. She also mentioned the internet could be an addiction or *IAD and that it wouldn’t be a stretch to think that I could become addicted. Alternatively she suggested I take a look at my online time and pay attention to what was/is productive and what was/is pleasurable.

The flyer I scribbled upon while waiting for the bus.I rode the bus to the Medical Center that day and also managed to use the same ticket to ride the bus home after the appointment only *costing me $2.25 instead of $4.50. While transferring buses at the *Main Street and Hastings stop I overheard one addict say to another addict “If it is an anti-psychotic I wouldn’t take it”. I couldn’t help but smile as the two tall thin men walked arm in arm swaying, disussing the pros and cons of various meds for mental health treatment. I thought brilliant. I’m not the only one speaking in toungues that many people could find odd. I scribbled onto a piece of junk-mail what they spoke, tucked it into my purse and boarded the bus.

Anger stems from fear. Excitement is the polar opposite to fear. Think of the emotions people experience on a rollercoaster. Some are scared to death while others are excited to euphoria. And some may even bounce between the two emotions of fear and exitement as they ride up-and-down-and-all-around to their final destination only to step off and either vomit or get back in line for more. What do you experience? Are you a bouncer, a screamer or a wussy to put it bluntly. Many of us are likely to experience all three emotions. Bouncing in between is a challenge to me. I tend to be able to abruptly be so excited I break out in goose bumps but in the next moment, so fearful that I began sweating and the giggly goosbumps fade away.

I have decided after a couple of weeks of digesting the possibility of being addicted to the internet, that I Jessica Doyle am not addicted to the internet. Ha ha! The computer is not my enemy. The only enemy I have is myself and then – only, when I’m bouncing. Bouncing is kind of like anxiety, that is crazier yet intelligent. Bounce is just nice to say. B-o-u-n-c-e. I am a bouncer.

Anyways, I have a great doctor. Thank you doctor.

The above poem I dug out last night from my binders of handouts while in treatment last year. It was 1:00AM?. I turned the two computers off. I turned the TV off. I closed the deck door. I poured a glass of water, curled up in a duvet, settled into the futon in the living room and opened the binder. Half of it’s contents fell out. I laughed. Story of my life. Made me think of food goes in, food goes out. I find this similar to human nature. We are concious yet instinctive.

I read the map of conciousness. Locating different words where I had been, where I am now and where possibily I could go. I accepted it and breathed in 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and out 6, 7, 8…9.

I corrected my energy.

Love and cigarettes backwards.I read poems. I read about self love. I read about breathing. I read about looking for the good in others. I read about excercise. I read the Chapters of My Life. I wrote the word LOVE on my hand with a heart. I breathed in. I breathed out. I peeed and went to bed.

I feel clear today, transparent maybe. I like it. I like it a lot đŸ˜‰

*IAD – Internet Addiction Disorder – funny how anything can be pathologized.

**Transit tickets in Vancouver at the time of purchase are good or an hour and fifteen minutes. When one is lucky and the bus arrival and departure times are in tune with what you want as a rider you can actually manage to do your errands or attend an appointment only to be able to board the bus again without having to purchase another ticket.

***Main and Hastings is sometimes referred to as Pain and Wastings. Taken literally it is sad but true. Figuratively it is considered humorous and even ghastly to others. Main and Hastings is notoriously portrayed in the media as a blister on Vancouver and further more on Canada. I would suggest to anyone, go and walk through it in the daytime. It is as bad as the media portrays, however it’s wedged right in between two historic areas of Vancouver; Gastown and Chinatown. Hahaha! Hastings happens to be the main drag one has to cross inbetween both. I think of Hastings as a purgotory; a place where everything and anything goes. Nothing is to big nor to small. Lots of people, lots of cops, lots of scary eyed tourists thinking “ahhh honey we are not in Kansas anymore”. LMAO. OK… it is safe. I have never lived their or spent time living on the streets. I cannot comment on that. I can say, I have walked through the area and browsed the shops and eaten in the restaurants, and spoke to the peddlars, vendors, addicts and spenders only to discover that I am safe. No-one’s gonna-hurt-me. I feel more threatened walking down Robson Street… and am soooo happy to have discovered there is a blog aptly named BeyondRobson. It’s good. Go have a look. Vancouver is a lot larger than Robson Street… for real!

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2 thoughts on “Chapters of my life, and loving the bounce”

  1. I’m all 3 but probably a bouncer – I bounce around alot. I’d be too bored any other way :-)

    BTW, tickets here in Melbourne, Australia are for 2 hours – but purchase one at say 2.01pm and you get it to 5pm. Of course our ticket inspectors (aka wannbe police officers) are in fact, more scary than real police officers.

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