Mind Monkey

My only son is in recovery from the disease of alcoholism. The first semester he enrolled in college and he had an assignment to write a paper about something he was against and to state his case as to why. Zachariah receive an A+ on his work. I watched as the story unfolded and cried tears of joy when I knew he got it.

With great joy I share his story with you. Peace Love Stardove

Mind Monkey

There’s a monkey that is caged in a section of my mind. This mind monkey is part of a three-fold disease that I bare. It is a disease of the mind, body, and soul that can be applied to anyone that deals with addiction. While there are many substances that one can become addicted to, alcohol was my poison of choice. This burden, if not kept in check, can have unseen consequences for more than just myself. I’m not alone in this matter.

For many individuals around the world, drinking alcohol has sent their lives into a tailspin. On my own journey through alcoholism I crossed the paths of others who experienced similar pains and hardships brought forth by addiction. No matter the drug of choice, a fine line exists that if crossed, can lead to devastation that affects more than just the addicted individual. The disease of addiction does not discriminate against sex, age, creed, or nationality. It does not care what you lose nor does it mind if it leads you to the grave! There are those that can drink in moderation, but for me, drinking alcohol is no longer an option.

The obsession of the mind tells me that one day I will be able to drink successfully, and that I will no longer cause harm to others or myself. I begin to think that I can control my drinking and will be able to enjoy it. Yet there is a catch, if I try to control my drinking, I would not be able to enjoy it. So, if I allow myself to enjoy it, I will not be able to control it. As for the allergy of the body, the phenomenon of craving kicks in after that first drink. When this takes place I choose not to stop drinking, and in times past, I would blackout or end up locked up in jail, compounding these initial burdens is the spiritual malady that I would face. The flood of emotions I bottled up inside my mind came roaring out. Emotions like self-pity, loneliness, jealousy, and irritability came to the surface, sparked by what I saw as failures within me. “Poor, poor…pour me another drink” feeds the thirst to have more alcohol in order to erase the pain of my unresolved emotions. Feeling sorry for myself I would, in turn, quench the monkeys thirst for it would help escape from the self-imposed misery my mind would generate.

I am the end result of my own actions. Knowing one’s own behaviors will allow one to understand his or her actions. Over a fourteen-year drinking career my behaviors resulted in numerous intoxication offenses. I was raised in a family with several key male figures who, at some point in their lives, were heavy drinkers and hell raisers. Watching my grandfathers, my dad, and other close family friends consume alcohol seemed to be what men did in adulthood. The consumption of beer and other hard liquors was permissible for any fitting excuse. Fitting excuses such as a bad day at work, weekends, vacations, the Cowboys big game, or any other “fill in the blank” reason would do. Once I graduated from high school I began to apply such behaviors into my own life!


I associated with others that had the same attitude for drinking as I did; this opened the door for experimentation with a few illegal substances, but none of these drugs stuck with me like drinking beer. All my years of drinking brought trouble with my family, friends, and the local law enforcement. I have spent thousands of dollars in fines, completed numerous hours of community service, in addition to, serving time in drug rehabilitation, county jail, and state prison. Other consequences include the loss of cars, jobs, freedom, and time away from the ones I love.

Throughout my twenties, I had no interest in controlling or stopping my drinking habit or hindering the single life. I rarely had to explain my actions to anyone! Maintaining a job for a functioning alcoholic like me only made sense, after all, nobody else was going to pay my bills or support my habit. A good work ethic was my saving grace, which allowed me to maintain the same job for years at a time. When I reached my early thirties, I hit a major rock bottom in my addiction. Up until that point, I had only received minor punishments from the court system for being a drunk. It wasn’t until I received my third Driving While Intoxicated (commonly known as a D.W.I.) offense, did I face the major consequences of my alcoholism.
The punishment I received not only cost me financially, but also had me serving time in the Texas prison system. It was during this time I received treatment for alcoholism. The treatment allowed me to see that I had no concern for the general public, my family, or myself. When I would drive under the influence I was not only putting my life on the line, but others were also at risk. My biological father was involved in a fatal car accident where drinking played a role; I began to see a pattern that might repeat through me. To continue to drink the way I was made it highly probable that being killed while driving drunk might have been the chilling end of my own fate.

Another factor I came to realize was the physical toll alcohol would take on my body. The fact of the matter was I had to consume more alcohol to get the previous desired effects. At the rate in which I was progressing with alcohol, major health problems were sure to follow as I got older. It was health issues brought on by alcohol, which caused the death of my paternal grandfather.

Over the years, music has been a release for my mind. Recently, I came across the song “Learning How to Bend” by a Country artist, Gary Allan, which describes my journey so far in sobriety: “I’m just trying to understand / It’s all in someone else’s hands / There’s always been a bigger plan that I don’t need to understand / Still learning how to bend”. With just over two and a half years of “clean and sober”, I’m staying focused on living life one day at a time. There are times where it is living moment to moment, but with the help of others who have been down the same hellish road, together we work to live a sober life-style. If I forget to live within today, my past behaviors will begin to resurface and the caged mind monkey might convince me that one drink will not hurt. As the old saying goes, “It’s not the last drink that gets you, it’s the first!” I still make plans for the future; I just try to keep a healthy balance between living in today and not forgetting my past mistakes. For me, drinking is no longer an option; therefore, the mind monkey must stay locked up and the key must be thrown away!

By R.Zachariah B.

Healing from Loss

Love Lost ~ Love Found

Bruce and I were high school sweet hearts after 2 1/2 years of dating we married young. At the time of the auto collision in which Bruce was killed we had been married over 10 years and had a daughter who turned 10 a month before the collision, a boy age 2 and I was expecting our 3rd child, a daughter. Sara Jamaica (he named her before her birth) was born on what would have been our 11th anniversary. I believe she is my last gift from him. We had a wonderful marriage and were best friends and were always together in our social life. All those growing pain years had ended.

The night of the collision I could not go to the event my husband attended, because the next day we were having a wedding reception in our home. Bruce was to be the best man. We had just had our kitchen remodeled and everything from the kitchen was in the living room and needed to find it's place in the new cabinets we had custom made. There was also a PTO program at our daughter's school that night which I went to. He had been up very late finishing up with the kitchen plumbing and got up early to go to work for a full day.

He passed up our street going down the road a couple of miles to "dead man's curve". It was decided he fell asleep and had the cruise control set. At 2:00 AM the collision with an 18 wheeler happened. I knew he was dead two hours before the police arrived. I continued to pray for Bruce not to be dead. Over and over I told God I could handle and take care of a hurt man. I could take care of a wounded man. At 4:00 AM the police finally arrived with the news my husband was DOA at the local hospital. His death was instant and there was no coming back due to the injuries to his brain. I never saw his body, because the funeral home could not do anything to make his appearance better and I chose to remember the handsome man who said, Bye, I love you as he left our home. I did not have to do an ID his broken body due to the ambulance driver had gone to high school with Bruce and did ID his body. That was a thank you God blessing.

We had met Hank the man I later married before Bruce's death one time through a friend once a couple of months before the collision. After his death our friend Jackie would come to my home to be my handy man and would bring Hank with him sometimes. Bruce, Jackie and I had a very strong and loving relationship. Then he was also killed four months after Bruce. At the exact moment of his auto collision Hank came to my home for the very first time without Jackie looking for him. Hank went to Jackie's grandmother's and picked up the ringing phone from Parkland Hospital saying Jackie was DOA. Jackie had begged me to go, but the baby was only one month old and I just wasn't ready to get out yet. Jackie's death was a double whammy for me to loose another man I loved.
At the time I got to know Hank he was absolutely the most wounded being I had ever known. After multiple tours in Vietnam he was a mess without any doubts especially after loosing his friend Jackie. Hank had already had way too many losses in his life. We would see each other socially where two different sets of friends played music at local clubs. I felt lucky to have safe places to go and be surrounded by friends.
It was nice to go out and know maybe 30 or more people who gathered to see our friends play music. About nine months after the collision Hank and I began dating, since we were usually at the same places. He pretty much began asking me to marry him right then. I said no at least 11 times. I was so afraid to allow myself to love thinking he would die on me, too. Hank finally wore me down along with my parents who thought a widow with three children needed help raising her children. So on the 12th time he proposed I finally got past my fear of commitment, loving again and being afraid of loss.
Just recently he was telling Jamaica and her husband when I took a 6 month old baby, 3 years old son and a 10 year old daughter on a road trip with just the four of us for three weeks, he knew I was a strong woman. The kind of woman he wanted in his life. We left our home in Texas and drove westward stopping at KOA camps along the way. I had bought a cargo van and had it converted into a camping mobile. I got to pick out everything for the van and a good friend (groom above) did the paint job. The pack on top of the van was around two feet high with all our camping supplies and food for the journey. I have a picture of my three children on the edge of a cliff at the Grand Canyon. After the beaches of California we headed north to Yellow Stone then circled home by another route. I learned from that road trip it is easier to take care of three children at home than on the road, but I would do it all over again. It was exactly what my children and I needed to move on with our lives.


Hank and I married 11 months after I became a widow. He didn't die on me. Today he is not that wounded being God sent my way. We celebrate thirty-one years of marriage in October. We married two days in a row, but that is another story how two weddings came about. I do believe God had a plan and heard my prayers about taking care of a wounded man. Sixteen days after we married our fourth daughter was conceived. She is my blessing in disguise. I could not see past the pain and loss of Bruce at the time. Today having healed from the loss I can see all the challenges had to happen for Roxanne the baby of the family to be born.

I am so blessed by my family. There have been challenges along the way, but we have gotten through each one to see the Light on the other side. There is always hope. Moments of grief still occur sometimes. I remember on Hank and my 25th anniversary going out back to a pond and crying about what could have been, what should have been, but wasn't. It was strange how the grief hit me after all those years. The love we have for a person does not die with them. Forever they are alive not only in our memories, but in our hearts and minds.
Please know if you are going through a loss of a loved one time is the greatest healer of all. Take your life one day at a time and be grateful for what you shared during your time together.

Peace Love Stardove
My Lost Love ~ Bruce

Thank You For My Thorns

One Friday night the local DBSA didn't have a speaker for our Speaker night, so I gave a talk about being the mother of a child with Bipolar Disorder. I ended my talk by reading from my journal during the time when our daughter was finally diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder.

Today my youngest daughter is mood stable, married and an office administer. She is doing great, but there was a time when I didn't know if she would ever overcome her mental illness.

My God I have never thanked you for my thorns. I have thanked you a thousand time for my roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear, teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed closer to you along the path of pain. Show me that through the tears, the colors of Your rainbow look much more brilliant. I praise you for the roses and thank you for the thorns.

We all have our challenges (thorns) in life and in the mist of those things that challenge us, we do forget to say Thank you God. During these times it is hard to see that something positive and wonderful can come out of the challenging situations.

Loosing my first husband in a car wreck was a huge thorn, but because of that challenge I later remarried and had my youngest daughter. Yes, there were so many tears and highs and lows, but today she is such a rose in my life. My life would not be the same without her.

The beauty of the rose is so easy to see, but we must remember the rose stem has it's thorns. Could the thorns be protection for the roses? We carefully cut them and avoid the thorns. The thorns do not take away from their beauty, but remind us to be thankful for everything that happens in our lives.

Peace Love Stardove