Today it has been 365 days since my last cap of GHB. There is a documentary I have been working on for the last two years. It has been edited both soberly and amidst full blown addiction. Today marks the day that I will finish this project by integrating words I wrote beginning with The loss of control of my…
What began as a college project has evolved into something much more. This documentary portrays the initial ensuing battle that began three years ago when I first ingested GHB. I attempted three times to sober up. The first and second time respectively, I stayed sober for three weeks each time, only to succumb to FULL BLOWN addiction upon relapsing after the second attempt at sobriety. This third time of sobriety has been one full year in the making. It has tested my strength, stamina and own personal beliefs, morals and ideas.
Below is the synopsis of the timeline behind the scenes of Lucidity, the given name of the film.
In May of 2004 I began filming myself. I was not using GHB 24/7 at this time. I did recognize that something was not right though. I went to my family doctor explaining how I thought I was builing a dependancy on GHB in order to focus, relax and hence sleep at night. I was studying in college after having returned to studying after an eight year hiatus from college working as a graphic artist / illustrator, both as a freelancer and employee of various business’. By the end of the week I gave up GHB upon my doctors advice and suffered no major withdrawal as a consequence. I had only been ingesting two to four caps in the evenings and on weekends at that point. I also began on Celexa. The Celexa had a strange effect on me. My pupils dilated.
I was over on Communicatrix’s site reading a post entitled Cleaning My Damned Apartment, Day 3: â€œFeng Shui for Skeptics, or Why All My Dustcloths Are Purpleâ€, and began writing and extended comment. Instantly a memory came into being causing me to click between browser pages to and from her site to mine to others.
Why is it that human beings perseve themselves as one rather than one part of something much larger. The movie What the Bleep gave names to things I knew no names for. Emotions came into existance for me. When something is not named one cannot begin to fully understand what that is until is is named. When something is named, it tends to become very real for me. It is no longer undescribable through use of image, sound or feeling for me. It is almost as if I can think about a named thing as a whole. I use words when I think. I use my fingers to create with. Yet, I cannot use letters to decribe what I am thinking of or feeling if none exist nor If I am unaware of it’s given name.
Why are you doing this? Being an artist is not unlike any other job or carreer path one chooses or is drawn to . Being financially secure and able to pay your rent or student loan debt is what many of us are faced with regardless of your trade or background. To be able to purchase necessities such as food, shelter, supplies for your trade and formost continue to create; utilizing your skills, talent and education to further understand human nature, technology, compassion and emotion culminates into what could be something that others find useful or needed or simply put, can add to and learn from also.
…thru writing so others can read, observe, absorb and respond to it all. I have written before about the realization of being connected. Connected to everyone who has access to the internet; how it can be overwhelming, informative, joyful, heartbreaking and even downright funny. The human race has never had the ability to communicate simultaneously with everyone else. Through TV and radio yes. Tonight though I write this to respond to all those with whom I have visited, read and sometimes left comments on. Do you realize the collective consciousness being formed and embraced by many. Only through fear are those of us not able to communicate or simply do not want to recognize that the internet has changed the world as we know it.
It is wild to think that I have been all over the world. I have seen people die. I have held witness to people’s most inner most joys. I have cried with people over their personal triumphs and defeats. To be honest I want to keep doing this. I love this. I love human beings. I’m learning we are not all that different. We are only different through color, shape and size. Even communication through writing is evolving so that others who speak a different tongue can still communicate to you, and you to them. Isn’t it time to stop turning on the TV for information and truth? The TV is entertainment for the most part. It is sensationalized to make the most bang as quickly as it can to keep your attention as long as possible. This is not a definite, however, we the general populace of the world can not contribute to the medium of TV nor radio.
You could say that blogs are redefining how we perceive the world to be. It is not just I any longer. It is I and you and your friend and the guy in Asia and the woman in Mexico and the kid in Russia and the niece in Germany or even your grandmother in Canada. Not any one human being is not human. We all gaining the ability to respond, add to and even re-create how traditional is just that; traditional. This is new! I am writing to you. I am voicing my ideas. I am learning how things, people, places and things all interconnect looping around spiralling to infinity.
I know you are sad. I know that you are happy. I know you want the war to end. I know you need a hug. I know you need money. I know you need food. I know you are cold. I know you just lost your father. I know you have gained weight. I know you just learned that you have cancer. I know you have just had a lump removed. I know you are feeling crazy. I know you are all alone. I know you hear bombs dropping. I know you are mad. I know you fell. I know you cried for a long time. I know you walked outside. I know you are a woman in disguise. I know you are a man who loves his children.
We all now, are in the know. We know. Not only a select few know anymore. This is beautiful!
What do we do with what we know?
Update – Sadly, 25peeps no longer exists on the internet.
About two months ago I submitted my link and photo to 25peeps.com. MMMMMmmmm ah yeah. So, now the rest is up to you 😉
Update Lasted 8 days! My peep currently stands at 84 in their Hall of Fame 😉
While taking some pics of myself to post for The Diet I inadvertantly took one, where my right hand seems to have, mysteriously disapeared. I looked “oh, I can’t use that one”. Then I glanced again and thought why not. This picture has not been photoshopped or blurred on purpose. I simply had placed my hand on my waist resulting in a photo of an amputated woman. Ha! What better way to lose weight than to amputate yourself. 😉
bust – 37.5″ (beginning bust – 39″)
waist – 32″ (beginning waist – 33.5″)
bum – 41″ (beginning bum – 42.5″)
As I have mentioned before I do not own a scale. I cannot weigh myself. I have lost though a total of 4.5 inches. Nice!
Fitness wise I am a container gardener on my deck, a walker and hula hooper.
The largest impact however has been in adjusting not what I eat but how and when I eat it. I visited the local nutritionist two weeks ago at my doc’s office. The appointment caused some written reflection on how to fit a square into a circle. The post is aptly named so.
Today, two weeks later having been following the recommendations made by the nutritionist I’m feeling well, pretty damn good. Instead of eating everything at once (breakfast, lunch) at suppertime she recommended I spread it out throughout the day. I no longer eat at 6:00pm for the firt time. I have set a rule to eat something nutritious within an hour of waking rather than at, up to 8 hours after waking and surviving on Pepsi alone. The sugar kept my brain going however my metabolism thought it was still sleeping and held on to the food it got later when I would go to sleep. I wasn’t waking my metabolism up by feeding it. Good god! I am also drinking about 8 cups of water a day now. Continue reading
As a young child I retreated to my bedroom to under the blankets into my bubble. The bubble was my world where I could not get hurt, where I could look out and quietly ponder all that was reality without fear of attack because my ideas were not those of the norm. I just stepped out of that bubble moments ago again remembering, thinking, unable to focus on anything but drops of water creating rings as they landed on the inside of my eylids chrystaline clear. I am tired of being misunderstood.
Subtle Disclaimer – If you are concerned that Jessica Doyle is not writing about addiction, drugs, sex and anxiety don’t fear it’s always near her. Sometimes you can’t judge a blog by one post, you have to dig a little deeper into it, to find the most noteworthy or fleeting… to begin to understand.