The H.O.U.S.E., Inc.
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Admission Contacts Services Program Events Residences Education About Us Scrapbook Links Referral 12 Steps & Promises Outpatient Clinic Staff's Corner Steve's Page Roger's Page Mr. Ed's Page Jason's Page Katie's Page Teresa's Page Tahnee's Page Tom's Page Craig's Page Sharmon's Page Charles Page Kelly's Page	ScrapBook: 21 Days by Mike Cowsette June: 2007 21 days ! it was once 30 You still ain't clean, just not as dirty. They're cutting down, they're cutting back, Recovery programs are taking a whack. The Governors of the States are getting real mean. Soon there will be nowhere to get yourself clean. Budget cuts, program eliminations. Not only in Saint Louis, but across the nation. Tired of spending money and no one is getting well. What happens from here only time will tell. It's hard for any of us to recover on the streets. A lot less victories, a lot more defeats. So get it right now, while you have a chance. Before you're a Zombie walking around in a trance. Treatment programs are fading fast. This might be your first, and it might be your last. Our Blessings Before the rest of the world awakes up, before the stars leave the sky, I wish to speak to you oh Lord, and the heaves they abide. As I step forth with a tear in my eye, I am asking from you, why do I cry? Cause today is different and I know not why. A peaceful moment comes to light, while all the world is sleeping tight. I hear a silent voice in me, say all will be alright, and then the sun begins to break. What a beautiful day, for another breath I take. I know not what lies ahead, new lessons, new faith, a given I'll take. For my purpose you see, is what you've offered to me. A smile, a laugh, a conversation non-revoked. And not of the past. A pleasure of calm and a stress free life, and all I must do is follow your light. I thank you for this, my knowledge of you, and coming back now so lost and confused, you've shown me the way, you walk by my side, not once did you leave me alone in the cold.   When the heat was too much a drink you bestowed. Now my thirst had been quenched a blanket for warmth, we have much work ahead. So, where do I start? Yes, I hear you, and all takes time, the mission is clear with you in my life, and if I should stray, please wake me up, put me back on the path of wisdom and strength, keep me focused and bright. let your positive glow surround me all day and night, words from mouth be what you need me to say. Let Satan be gone, for there is a miracle in me, it's a portion of God running through my veins and no more disease to be given a glance. Thank-You Lord &ldots;. Penelope (Aug. 2007)   Sobriety Sobriety is the leading cause of relapse. A treatment center is where you go and pay $15,000 to find out AA meetings are free. This is a "One Day At A Time" program. If you are sober today, you are tied for first place in AA. If drinking is interfering with your work, you're probably a heavy drinker. If work is interfering with your drinking, you're probably and alcoholic. I often obsessively pursue feeling good &ldots; no matter how bad it makes me feel. When I was new, I didn't think I had any obsessions, until I started thinking about it. Then it was all I could think about. How come if alcohol kills millions of brain cells, it never killed the ones that made me want to drink? It's not old behavior if I'm still doing it. The difference between a problem drinker and an alcoholic is that: When the alcohol is taken away from the problem drinker, the problem goes away. When the alcohol is taken away from an alcoholic, the problem begins. Sponsee: When will I get a good job? Sponsor: When you are ready. Sponsee: How will I know I'm ready? Sponsor: You'll have a good job. If I am not the problem, then there is no solution. Before I came to AA, I was dead, but I didn't know enough to lie down. It is the great obsession of every Al-anon that some ay he or she will learn to control and enjoy their drinker. I would rather be a sober ANYTHING, than a drunk anything I drank when I was happy, I drank when I was unhappy. Actually, I am a reason to drink. You don't have to be sick to want to get well. But if you don't want to get well, you are sick. I can't do HIS will my way. Being single minded has on drawback: There's no room left for HIM. In order to change the way we feel we need to change the way we act. There is only one way to coast, and that's downhill. The good news is that you get your emotions back; the bad news is you get your emotions back. All we ask is that you completely change you attitude as soon as possible. Don't be a pigeon. If you tie a message to a pigeon's foot and send him to Denver, the guy in Denver will get the message &ldots; but the pigeon won't. Never put people in AA on a pedestal, there's no room to dance when one is on a pedestal. I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God's hands I still possess. Without memory, there is no healing. Without forgiveness, there is no future. Our business is doing God's business. As long as we do God's business, whatever happens to us is none of our business. That's God's business. Whining is not only graceless, but it can be dangerous. It can alert a brute that a victim is in the neighborhood.   "That Perfect High" R.I.P. She Silverstein There once was a boy named Gimme-Some-Roy He was nothing like me or you Cause laying back and getting high Was all he cared to do. As a kid he sat in the celler &ldots; sniffing airplane glue. And then he smoked banana peels, when that was the thing to do. He tried aspirin in Coca Cola He breathed helium on the sly And his life became an endless search To find the perfect high But grass just made him wanna lay back and eat chocolate-chip pizza all night, And the great things he wrote when he was stoned, looked like shit in the morning light Speed made him wanna rap all day, Reds laid him too far back, Cocaine-Rose was sweet to his nose, But the price nearly broke his back. He tried PCP, he tried THC, but they never did the trick. Poppers nearly blew his heart, Mushrooms made him sick, Acid made him see the light, But he couldn't remember it long. Hash was a little too weak, and smack was a lot too strong. Qualudes made him stumble, Booze just made him cry, Then he heard of a cat named Baba Fat Who knew of the perfect high. Now, Baba Fat was a hermit cat &ldots; Lived high up in Nepal, High on a craggy mountain top Up a sheer and icy wall. "Well, Hell!" Says Roy, "I'm a healthy boy, And I'll crawl or climb or fly, Till I find that guru who'll give me a clue As to what's the perfect high." Sou out and off goes Gimme-Some-Roy, To the land that knows no time, Up a trail no man could conquer, To a cliff no man could climb. For fourteen years he climbed that cliff &ldots; Back down he'd slide &ldots;. He'd sit and cry, then climb some more, Pursuing that perfect high. Grinding his teeth, coughing blood, Aching and shaking and weak, Starving and sore, bleeding and tore, He reaches the mountain peak. And his eyes blink red Like a snow-blind wolf, And he snarls the snarl of a rat, As therein repose And wearing no clothes, Sits the god like Baba Fats. "What's happenin', Fats?" says Roy with joy, "I've come to state my biz &ldots;. I hear you're hip to the perfect trip &ldots;. Please tell me what it is. "For you can see," says Roy to he, "I'm about to die, So for my last ride, tell me, how can I achieve the perfect high?"   "Well, dog my cats!" says Baba Fats. "Another burned out soul. Who's lookin' for an alchemist to turn his trip to gold. It isn't in the dealer's stash, or on a druggist's shelf &ldots;. Son, if you would find the perfect high, Find it in yourself." "Why, you jive mother-fucker!" says Roy, "I climbed through rain and sleet, I froze the fingers off my hands, And four toes off my feet! I braved the lair of the polar bear, I've tasted the maggot's kiss. Now, you tell me the high is in myself? What kind of shit is this? My ears, before they froze off," say Roy, "had heard all kinds of crap; But I didn't climb fourteen years to hear your sophomore rap. And I didn't climb up here to hear that that the high is on the natch, So you tell me where the real stuff is, or I'll kill your guru ass!" "Okay &ldots; okay," says Baba Fats, "You're forcin' it outta me &ldots; There is a land beyond the sun That's known as Zabolee. A wretched land of stone and sand, Where snakes and buzzards screem, And in the devil's garden blooms the mystic Tzutzu tree. Now, once every ten years It blooms one flower, As white as the Key West sky, And he who eats of the Tzutzu flower Shall know the perfect high. For the rush comes on Like a tidal wave &ldots; Hits like the blazin' sun. And the high? It lasts forever, And the down don't never come. But, Zabolee Land is ruled by a giant, Who stands twelve cubits high, And with eyes of red In his hundred heads, He waits the passer-by. And you must slay the red eyed giant, And swim the river of slime, Where the mucus beast waits To feast on those who journey by. And if you slay the giant and beasts, and swim the slimy sea, There's a blood-drinking witch Who sharpens her teeth As she guards the Tzutzu tree." "Well, to hell with your witches and giants," says Roy, "To hell with the beasts of the sea - Why as long as the Tzutzu flower still blooms, Hope still blooms for me." And with tears of joy In his sun blind eyes He slips the guru five, And crawls back down the mountain side, Pursuing the perfect high. "Well, that is that," says Baba Fats, Sitting back down on his stone, Facing another thousand years Of talking to God alone. "Yes, Lord, it's always the same &ldots; Old men or bright-eyed youth &ldots; It's easier to sell 'em some shit Than it is to tell them the truth.     Turning Point Philosophy We are here because there was no refuge from ourselves. Until a man suffers to share his secrets in the eyes and hearts of others - he is running. Afraid to be known to others, he can neither know himself or any one else So, together we travel, in search of sanity, no longer chasing illusions beyond our grasp. Using distorted images of what a man should be, we have traveled a road of bondage - our bodies in jail, our souls in Hell, but now with faith and determination, we walk back into a world which we let defeat us. With our eyes wide open, we now see the path we must take. We will not be swayed by whom we were yesterday, but look forward to who we may have become tomorrow. We know we may stumble, but like men we will stand again and move forward. With the strength of a lion and the will of an ant - we will meet and over come all obstacles. Our shield against adversity will be patience, acceptance, and understanding. We will succeed in search of serenity and live life on life's terms. Here we are at the turning point. Author Damon G.