Christmas, now.

One year ago at this moment I was laying on top of a dirty mattress laid out on the floor of a filthy room in what could best be described as a "crack-house". I was curled up with a bottle of whiskey which replaced the bottle of vodka I'd already consumed the night before, still empty and cast aside next to me. Maybe. It's hard to even remember. I had been drinking heavily for a few days now. During the Holidays the festive mood allows for absence of character and logic. Handing a severe alcoholic a bottle of whiskey, picking him up to go out to the bars doesn't seem to be that big of a problem, tis the season to worry about things later. I was only waking up from my drunken stupor to shake off the fogginess, blink my eyes, take a deep breath and get ready for more. More drinking, more embarrassment I'll never experience; my drinking was a matter of one or two drinks before black-out. My body was taking desperate measures at this point to combat the extreme amount of toxins I was funneling down my throat.

I was alone. I was alone on the mattress with the sun shining through the disheveled metal mini-blinds on Christmas Morning. I was somewhere, somewhere dark and smoky the night before on Christmas Eve, the night my immediate family celebrates together with an expensive prime rib dinner and gift exchange; usually the best night of the year, unless of course, you're me and then it is the most uncomfortable night, the night you dread all year long. I hadn't planned this, I didn't even want this. But here I was and there was nothing else I can do about it. Choke down another. Hope it doesn't come back up, just about the only hope I experience anymore.

For every binge there's the moment you realize it's time. Time to get up and face the repercussions of your actions. I got up and stumbled home that evening Christmas night. Stumbled back into bed, past the Christmas tree. Past the area where a day earlier was filled with presents where now sit just the ones ready for me to open, staring at me mockingly. The tangible proof of my selfishness, my lack of humanity, the harsh reality that I have nothing to give to people who do nothing but give to me.

The withdrawal this time was brutal. Knowing I had ruined Christmas for my Mom, Dad and brother, not to mention my cousins, close friends both here and visiting, made my symptoms even worse. I had never, in 30 years missed a Christmas. I was hollow inside. I knew the worst part was still to come and I was dreading it more than anything. Every time my Mom asked if it was time I moaned no, it wasn't, I couldn't possibly, I have too much anxiety still. But I knew I had to, I had to get it over with. So two days later, shaking from every cell in my body (the "shakes" as they call them) I took a deep breath, put on some clean sweats and sheepishly sat down in the middle of the sofa, presents surrounding me ready to open. Hours of hard work fretting over whether or not I would like them, worrying if it was the right size or brand, hoping I'll smile when I rip open the carefully decorated boxes. Here I was sitting in the place of honor with absolutely nothing to give back, nothing worthy of these people who do nothing but worry about me, pray for me, give to me all they have. I have nothing to give back. I don't deserve anything and yet here I am opening these gifts from people, people who love me more than anything, still, after all the pain I've caused them, all the sleepless nights, headaches, tears and anger.

Christmas morning, a year later and the Story of Christmas, of Christ's birth has never meant more to me. It's all clear to me the sacrifice, the gift, the giving up of one's best for those who deserve less than nothing; more than it ever has. We can hear the story thousands of times and still never truly understand it. I'm extremely fortunate to have lived it, experienced it first hand, yet so few do.

Quote I Like:

"I beg you.....to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart, and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language.

Don't search for the answers, which could not be given now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now.

Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer........"

-Rainer Maria Rilke

Definition of "Emptiness"

Emptiness as a human condition is described as an elusive and disturbing feeling of numbness, inability to feel anything emotionally, or not having any purpose. It can be better described as a situation where a certain lack or lacks in one's life overtake the emotional and mental focus in an obsessive, sometimes subconscious manner. Feelings of emptiness often accompany chronic discontent, depression, loneliness, or despair. It may seek expression through different types of self-harming behaviors, and in more extreme cases, suicide.

Emptiness often involves alienation, be it temporary or acquired, and sometimes self-hatred. Persons tending to feel emptiness often come from problematic familial backgrounds. If at all there was a family nucleus, their needs were ignored, they were considered second class, they experienced many separations, or there was outright abuse.

Granted, a sense of emptiness is not always associated as such, and may be part of a natural process of grief, as resulting of separation, death of a loved one, or other significant changes to one's life.

Treatment of feelings of emptiness may be similar to treatment of clinical depression. Some people may find psychotherapy beneficial. Self-occupation is important if the afflicted person is to hold off the negative effects, and avoid the natural aggravation of the untreated emotion.

Other solutions possible are:

* Getting a pet - it has been found that often pets are able to ease the sense of emptiness or loneliness.
* Faith, some people may find their faith spiritually fulfilling.
* Volunteering also fills the time and brings social contact.
* Engaging in any social interaction.

A letter to my friends

Hello!

I just had some good news that I wanted to tell you... sorry its taken me so long to get this to you!

It's hard to decide where to start... I'll summarize as much as I can... a little over a year ago I was living at home with my parents because my relationship with JC went belly-up for the final time. We were living in a house on NE Prescott, not far from my parents'. I had a really good job but since my relationship was failing, I started drinking a lot and lost it. So I lost everything again and went back to Moms. Story of my life.

Then I met a guy that I had gone to church with when I was 15 named Jamall, he was my age and wonderful and we got along great and he inspired me to be a better person. So that was a year ago... Well from August to December I had a rough time staying on the sober road, but on New Years I made the decision that if I got the job I had an interview for a few days from then, I would stop drinking at all cost, devote my life to working hard and staying devoted to Jamall and see if life got better. It did. I got the job at an architecture firm as an interior designer on K-12 schools and was working 14 hour days and making a lot of money. So Jamall and I decided to officially move in together around March 1st 2007. We moved into the Envoy Condos above Zupans on 23rd, the big pink building with the green neon sign. I always wanted to live there and it was a dream come true when we got a huge two bedroom condo. The rent was high but we were really happy.

Ok so in mid April I lost my job, not due to any sort of drinking, (I actually stayed sober for that whole job) but because I was working on a cruise-ship size project when I was used to yacht sized. It sucked, but since I wasn't fired I was able to get about $700 a month in unemployment. Then an old friend asked me to partner with her in residential design business. I was making more and working less and I loved it. But because some days I had no work to do, drinking became a problem again. After about a month it became a big problem and I missed a week of working with her and she opted to work alone. That set it off. In the month of June I was probably sober 4 or 5 days. It was bad. I would wait till Jamall went to work in the morning and then go get three bottles of wine. I could pass out the whole day. That was my life. I was lower than low. On the morning of July 1st at 2am I was shaking so badly I went to my mom's house, just like I've done a million times.

That next morning I sat there thinking thoughts I'd never had before. I felt completely hollow, like an empty pumpkin just sitting there decaying. I was totally hopeless and dead inside, my body was shutting down and I was virtually unrecognizable. I asked God for just one day of joy. I knew I hadn't felt it since I was doing missions in Mexico City more than a decade ago. I looked back and realized every single year for the past 7 years was the same. Get a good job, get a good boyfriend, get a good apartment. Drink. Lose good job, lose good boyfriend, lose apartment. Year after year. And I had exhausted every means of getting better. I had tried everything man had to offer (rehabs, AA, pills and vitamins, so many books, even hypnotherapy and thousands of dollars of therapy) and nothing was working. I couldn't stop destroying myself with alcohol. I hated who I was, what I had become and who I was doomed to be. Hearing my mom tell me to turn to Jesus was so pointless, I knew I was going to be gay the rest of my life and couldn't do anything about it. Knowing what the Bible said about homosexuality kept me from God and I felt chained to my sin. I drank because of the guilt and hopelessness, I was running from God and knew I had hit a dead-end. Knowing I had nowhere else to turn I finally picked up the book she'd put in front of my face a million times and read it cover to cover. It was the autobiography of a man who was gay and was delivered by Jesus, and now was serving the Lord and so happy*. It was the first and only time I heard of anything like that happening. The book could have been my autobiography.

I immediately felt the joy I'd been looking for! I laid there in my sweat and shakes and asked Jesus back into my heart and rededicated my life to Him. It was though a dam had broken and the cess pool I'd been lying in was immediately flooded with pure crystal clear water pouring over me and washing all the grime away. I gave thirty days notice on my apartment and told Jamall. Being the amazing man he is he was overjoyed for me because he couldn't watch someone he loved waste away like I was anymore. I prayed and read the Bible like it was the first time; reading about Jesus was like reading about a celebrity I knew nothing about. I wanted to be exactly like Him. I went back to the little downtown church I'd gone to before I moved to Los Angeles and was welcomed back with open arms**.

So I just wanted to update you!! I stopped drinking on July 1st, but hit a bump in the road the week before I was supposed to move, the reality of it scared me. I'm happy to say though, with God's help I haven't even had a craving since August 1st. I'm back now serving the Lord and living at my parents' in NE (for the time being) There is no way I could have gone through what I have for the past decade without using my testimony to show others the love and grace that comes from a relationship with Jesus. From being the town drunk to how I feel today... I'm a living example that ANYTHING is possible through Christ! So I'm saving up and going to Multnomah Biblical Seminary in January to get my graduate degree and do what I was called to do when I was 14. I'm excited for the first time in a decade about my future and hopeful that I'll make a difference in this life. Knowing I'll have a family of my own someday couldn't make me happier!! I never thought it a possibility.

OK this is a long letter but thats whats going on with me!! YOU!? I wanna know everything! Sorry if it sounded like I've written this a few times, I have, I'm excited to let people know the changes I've made!

Love,
Colin

* "That Kind Can Never Change! Or Can They...?" by Victor J. Adamson
www.victorjadamson.com
** Father's House Church
www.fathershouseportland.org