From Dragonfly: No Matter

No matter how bad I think I have it, there's always people who have it worse. Here, in prison, I see people fighting cancer, with bald heads, and no family around. I see people carried down two flights of stairs (the elevator is broken), while having a seizure. I see women standing 3+ hours in lines to get their medication that keeps them alive. I see people having spent 20+ years in prison, with no hope of dying anywhere else. I see women who belong in a psychiatric hospital, not a prison. I see women who have lost custody of their babies, even though their prison sentence is not long and others who have lost their entire families. I see women who never got the help they need, and are still battling drug addiction - willing to do anything to get that next high. I see women unable to attend the funerals of their most beloved people - spouses, parents, siblings and children. I see many people who have given up on hope.

Not just here, but throughout the world, there are people so much less fortunate than I (even though most would think my current circumstances grants me "unfortunate" status). In South Africa, I walked through townships filled with shacks (made of scraps and tarps) without electricity or running water, attempting to raise generations of family in one or two rooms. In Vietnam, I met families who could not afford shoes for their children and whose only mode of transportation was a hand built canoe with holes. I've met countless homeless throughout the U.S. and the world. So many can only live day to day, yet they do not give up hope - and neither shall I.

I open with all this because I learned in a letter last night, that my admission to my University, where I have given two years of quality study, research, and work, has officially revoked my admission. This news is devastating to me. It is impossible for people here to understand why my education would cause such feelings - they say things like, "Can't you just go somewhere else?" I truly gave my heart and soul into my PhD program and in return, I was given amazing opportunities and set goals for my future. Having lost two careers due to my addiction and crime associated with it's downfall, as well as family, reputation, community, friends, etc to the devastation of my gambling addiction, going back to school was my opportunity at a second chance. It was a very rigorous application process and my final decision on where to attend was not made lightly. I officially started a new life, moving to a new state, leaving all my friends and family, to attend this school. Now, T.S. and Sporty have joined me. T.S. is a freshman at the University and Sporty moved there to be there for both me and T.S. My home is now with Sporty in that town. My three years of supervision will be there, just a 5 minute drive from my campus, living with Sporty. I'm leaving here at 41 years of ago and it is a LONG process to start over again. I would have to go to a new school, go through the application process, and would now need to reveal that I am a felon. When I went through the last application process, it was years before any of these federal charges. I do not think it likely that another program will accept me after I need to reveal the truth on why I am no longer at my former University.

I am allowed to appeal the decision. I can't even try to do this without a lawyer, which I do not have. They gave me 30 days, and the letter I write would go to the supervisor of Dr. P. in her new position and since she is part of this story, it would be a conflict to go against her wishes. So, this leaves me with a lot of unknowns. What I had hoped was that I was coming home to - my classes, my old job that I loved, health insurance - all that is no more. Thank god for my recovery program and my trust that, somehow, things will work out for me in the end - as long as I keep doing the right next thing. I must release control and concentrate on all I am grateful for.

I am not fighting cancer. I get visitors. I don't have seizures. I don't have to stand in pill line. I will be out of prison in less than 9 months. I will die someday and somewhere outside of prison. I am not mentally ill. I am surrounded by support and love from biological and chosen family. I no longer battle addiction. I can focus on recovery. I have not given up hope. I have a home to go to - with Sporty there to support me. I can count on food on the table and heat to keep me warm. I have enough shoes for my lifetime (if needed), and I have a scooter to get me around.

So, yesterday, was a bad day. In my life, the letter withdrawing my status as a doctoral student was yet another reminder of how much addiction and it's consequences can destroy lives. Of course, I will keep fighting, but I must have the wisdom to also know when I can change things and when I cannot.

I know, no matter what, this is not an end for me. I am on a journey called life. It may not go exactly as I saw my life as a child, or in my 20's or even just a year ago, but I'm still here. I get to write. I get to help people. As long as I am still able to make a positive contribution to the world, I know I'll be okay. Never give up Hope.

I just read an incredible book by Mitch Abrams. The last sentence was, "I am in love with hope." Being lost is not the end, it's what we find next that can bring us back to a smile, a laugh, and new goals.