Wednesday, December 31, 2014

New Years Eve: A Look Back on the Past Five Years

         On Dec. 31st, 2009, I found myself on top of a mountain in the middle of the Negev Desert in Israel. My unit, the Nahal Brigade, had just finished a tough few months on the Gaza line the day before, and in typical Israeli infantry corps fashion, our winter training was starting off with a bang.

        The goal of this particular training exercise, which involved the entirety of the 932nd battalion, was basically "conquering" several large hills in the desert, complete with cardboard cutout and balloon "enemies" to "kill". My platoon's job was to give covering fire for the rest of the battalion as they approached the target. We did so with a mortar team, a .50 caliber M2 Browning machine gun, an automatic grenade launcher, two Negev LMG's, several M4 assault rifles with various attachments, and my job, a NATO 7.62mm FN MAG machine gun. Once everything was set up and in place, our ~15 man team gave off quite the fireworks show. I personally fired around 1700 rounds over about fifteen minutes of pounding the hill that we were "conquering". Eventually we got the order to cease fire, and we sat back and watched the impressive show as the rest of the 932nd swarmed the massive sand dune and placed the green and white 932 flag on top.

          It was an amazing sight, but it didn't come without effort. We had spent the entire night before climbing large, rocky hills. I had my gun and two boxes of chain ammunition on my person plus some other vital equipment. If I had to guess, about 80 lbs in all. Needless to say, by the time we reached our destination (two hours ahead of schedule) I was beat. My feet were blistered, my body sore and I was sweating something fierce. After reaching our planned base of fire early, we set up relatively quickly, and all we could do was lay, still sweating, on the cold sand of the Negev and wait for our drill to begin. Somewhere on that journey I can remember looking down at my G-Shock watch and it being midnight. I smiled to myself. I had made it to 2010 in good health, and I thought of my friends and family back in America getting ready to start their New Year celebrations (Israel is seven hours ahead of the U.S. East Coast). My time in the IDF was coming to an end in a few months, and I was so excited for what my future held.
The Negev Desert, Israel

        Unfortunately, my future wouldn't be so bright over the next few years. As you may know, my life quickly nosedived into drug addiction and a deep depression upon my return to America. I won't get into it too much now, but trust me, if you don't know the story, it was bad. From the winter of 2010 until July, 2013, my life was mostly spent using opiates and cocaine in their various forms, or in some sort of treatment facility. Every time New Year's came around, I got angry. I got resentful that my existence was a burden to others. I couldn't imagine going on the way that I was, but I hadn't heard of any way out of my spiral besides suicide, except I was such a coward in my active addiction that it just wasn't an option.

       Somehow, with a miraculously clear moment and a little elbow grease, I finally made it out of that place, though.  That was 18 months ago, and so much good has happened in this short period of clearheadedness. Today is New Year's Eve, exactly five years from when I was on top of that mountain in the Israeli desert as a hopeful but naive twenty year old kid. Tonight I'm going to spend what is traditionally a holiday associated with partying and rowdiness quietly sitting next to my sick girlfriend, maybe watching the ball drop in NYC on television, and I couldn't be any happier.

I am so excited for what my future holds.

Sunday, December 28, 2014

An Atheist's Experience in Alcoholics Anonymous (Part One)

                It was the summer of 2008 and I found myself atop a mountain in the Berkshires of Connecticut.  I was about three or four weeks into my stay at an inpatient treatment center for drug and alcohol abuse in what would turn out to be a completely life changing and transformative experience.  The past seven years had been a descent into an all but literal hell.  Mentally, physically and emotionally I was spent; I had checked out some time ago and had no desire to participate in life anymore.  My counselor at the time had actually considered the diagnosis of Anhedonia (the inability to feel happiness or pleasure) as well as a slew of acronyms which I had become accustomed to.  Apathy barely begins to even describe my indifference to life at the time.  However this summer day was quite different than the others.  I was sitting atop a sunny mountain with a view of Massachusetts, Connecticut and New York when a profound feeling of humility, perspective, insignificance, and personal powerlessness came over me.  I realized how small I was up here.  Not just how small I was, but how small the group of ten of us were in comparison to the picturesque landscape around us.  I realized my reliance upon the guides taking us on the hike was a necessary one if I was to make the trek down safely.   Thoughts seemed to disappear, and for the first time in a very long time I smiled genuinely.  I had not had such an experience without the aid of psychedelics.

Monument Mountain, Berkshires

                Many would consider such an occurrence to be a religious experience or spiritual experience.  I choose to use these terms, especially the latter loosely, I will explain why in a minute.  A quick Google search of the word "spirituality" or "spiritual experience" will yield a seemingly endless result of information leaving one with little more comprehension about either of the terms than when they started.  It seems there are as many definitions for the word "spirituality" as there are people.  This makes it difficult to begin a conversation about the topic when we cannot describe what it is we are talking about. The word is loaded with connotations and preconceived notions from the start such as mystical, enlightened, or holy. I look at the concept of spirituality or more specifically a spiritual experience as a positive cognitive shift for an individual, nothing more.  A large change in perception previously unknown to the individual.  It was after this experience that I began to participate in morning meditations and afternoon yoga.  I could write and entire novel about my experiences with these two practices alone.

                Those who know me may find it interesting or even down right humorous to imagine me doing yoga and meditating daily.  I have been an agnostic and a skeptic all my life.  I grew up with a passion and interest in the sciences like math, engineering, computer science, physics, biology, etc.  Trust me when I say that this is a piece relaying my experience, not a crusade or condemnation of religion.  My first exposure to the 12 steps of AA was through the few Friday night meetings held at the treatment center.  I saw and heard a lot about god and prayer and almost immediately dismissed it.  Past experience had told me there would not be much more for me here and my myopic view was justified.   I also heard “this is a spiritual program not a religious one.” Again, I failed to make a distinction between the two and chalked it up to playful wording to entice those who’s faith might be shaky.  I now know I was completely wrong.  Religion and spirituality are two entirely different things.  At its core being a spiritual person (again I use the word with much apprehension, but linguistics limits me here) is entirely different from being a religious person.  After much discussion with the instructor who ran the yoga, meditation and Qi Gong classes and my counselor it was put to me point blank.  “Even an atheist can stay sober and get this program."  I can’t say I was necessarily delighted to hear this but it did make me curious how god and prayer and the undeniable connection of the 12 steps to religion could be “gotten” by someone who did not believe in anything mystical or religious.



                Again my own biases got the better of me.  Fortunately, however, my journey to find something that would work for me began.  It has been nearly six and a half years since I was up on that mountain and I can say for myself that it is possible to bridge the gap between secular views and the 12 steps.   Now, normally outside of the halls of AA, I would debate religion, pseudoscience, paranormal phenomena and the like all day long.  My skepticism has not changed.  However within the halls of AA I resign from the debate society.  I must be clear here.  If you are in recovery and involved in a 12 step program and you believe in god in the traditional sense, that is fine by me. This is the case where I step back from debate; peoples lives and well-being are at stake.  If you believe praying to Christ, Allah, a tree, or the Dali Lama helps you stay sober, good for you.  I do not mean this to be patronizing at all, I sincerely mean "good for you."  I heard at a meeting today “I believe in a higher power, I’m not sure how it works, but it works.”  If you find yourself in this boat, more power to you.   If you are like me and you can not fill the cognitive gap that exists for you to pray and believe in something “bigger” than you, that’s fine to.  The whole notion of submitting yourself to a “power bigger than you” just does not seem to fit the bill.  I had always found the idea of praying to deep ocean currents, centrifugal forces, gravity, electro-magnetism, or the stars not make much rational sense.

                After spending a good deal of time practicing meditation and participating in yoga classes, the underlying principal of humility and perspective started to click with me.  That maybe to “Accept the things I could not change” was not so much a cry to a supernatural being for help, but a reminder of my infinite powerlessness in life in general.  My complete and utter insignificance from a cosmic perspective was quite a humbling feeling.  I suppose “don’t be a dick, be helpful and do your best” could also suffice, but somehow I don’t think that will resonate with the majority.  I then looked back to a book I had read and not paid much attention to called The Four Agreements, by Miguel Ruiz.  The four agreements are as follows: 
1. Be impeccable with your word
2. Don’t take anything personally
3. Don’t make assumptions
4. Always do your best. 

Easy concepts to grasp, not so easy to put into practice, perhaps more importantly, the concepts in and of themselves made no claims about the nature of reality and could align with secular views.  Along with a regular practice of meditation I could absolutely use these as guides for personal progress.  Leaving all the mysticism of the Toltec peoples on the pages of the book, the underlying principals resonated with me.  It then occurred to me that the 12 steps were like the shoe that kind of fit but maybe was a bit too snug.  You could wear and use the shoe, but it was never quite right.  Again this is not a condemnation of the AA program or the 12 steps, but rather a personal adaptation of the underlying principles.  Humility, acceptance, personal responsibility, tolerance, compassion; these were things that did not require me to surrender rational thought to adapt. I came into Alcoholics Anonymous not believing in God, skeptical of "spirituality", and uncertain if I belonged. However, I have found my place and my peace within these rooms.



Written by Andrew K of East Greenwich, Rhode Island

            Andrew K is celebrating six and a half years sober this January.


Saturday, December 20, 2014

What We Intend to Distribute



Welcome to this new medium. 



This is me, Sam. 





I'm a documentary filmmaker, Cape Codder, heroin addict (17 months clean), musician, student, veteran, landscaper, dog owner, Jew, reader, friend, son, brother, boyfriend, and informed citizen.

These are the things that I'll mostly be posting about.




However,

I'm not the only one here.





This is Nate.







Nate "Astronaut" Robertson was born in Boston, raised in Rhode Island and attended college in Vermont where he was an accomplished and
well traveled debater. He describes his family as excellent, typical, white, and suburban. His interests are politics, community, substance abuse, music and outdoors.

Nate lives on Cape Cod now, and can therefore lift many weights and is a Monster Energy Drink enthusiast.





We are also looking for a few more people to join us here, some as regular columnists, and some as occasional contributors.


Enjoy.











A Response to Narcan Bashing

             It's not news that the nation is experiencing an opiate epidemic of unprecedented scale. Nationally, admissions for people struggling with opiates painkillers other than heroin has gone up 430 percent from 1999-2009. Deaths from opiate overdoses tripled nationally between 2000 and 2010. Overdoses are now the leading cause of injury-related deaths, surpassing auto accidents. Nowhere is this more apparent than right here in Massachusetts.

            When police departments on Cape Cod began to carry Narcan with them, it was widely considered a life saving measure and right away we began to hear stories of police officers reviving and saving people’s lives that might have been otherwise lost. The popular life-saving program has been received well by both the law-enforcement community and the medical community. Recently I have begun to see articles that criticize the policy and even make fun of it. The Real Cape Cod, which is a collective of unnamed authors, recently posted two articles about law-enforcement carrying Narcan. I would usually dismiss the online ramblings of anonymous authors, but the articles seemed to strike a nerve on both sides of the issue. The responses to the articles showcased a lot of misinformation about the life-saving measure, however most importantly it showed that the issue drew a lot of attention and passion.

            Most of the people opposed to the use of Narcan by police stuck to a few key arguments. The first argument claims that this new policy will make addicts feel entitled. The idea being that the police reviving overdose victims will eventually make them expect it and remove the risk of death as a deterrent. I have heard this argument multiple times. On the surface it seems like a fairly reasonable conjecture, however it relies on several faulty assumptions. The first assumption made is that when an overdose victim receives Narcan it's easy and painless. The truth is that when an overdose victim receives Narcan they go into immediate withdrawal, which is some of the worst pain a person can ever experience. Assuming the overdose victim has been revived; they are now withdrawing and have to deal with a police officer - a situation no addict ever wants to be in. The biggest assumption made is that the risk of death deters addicts from using drugs as heavily as they could. The evidence surrounding the argument is non-existent. Ziltch. Nada. Not a single study has ever backed up this claim. After all, do people drive faster knowing that wearing a seat belt greatly increases their chances of surviving an accident? Do college students drink heavier, knowing that if they get alcohol poisoning they can just get their stomach pumped? Obviously not, and the same holds true for an opiate addict.

            The second argument I have heard repeated over and over is the claim that providing police officers with Narcan forces them to balance too many responsibilities. The idea being that they are suddenly doing the jobs of EMT's or doctors and this will supersede their priorities as law enforcement. This is ludicrous. Seeing as it was the Quincy Police Department that lobbied the Massachusetts health department for the money and training to administer the drug themselves. Officers responding the to scenes of overdoses were fed up with watching good people die while waiting for an ambulance. Especially when the antidote was cheap, harmless, and easily administered.  In the case of an overdose, “time is brain” meaning a couple of minutes can mean the difference between death or a coma and a full recovery. Police often use defibrillators or epipens during emergency situation, and Quincy police felt that Narcan was no different. Quincy saw a 70 percent drop in fatal overdoses since the program began. Towns across Massachusetts began using Quincy as a model, due to its unprecedented success. Rather than police feeling like they were bogged down with responsibilities many have come forward saying that the act of reviving someone been a profound experience.

            Just recently the Cape has been hit with a rash of overdoses many of which would have been fatal had it not been for Narcan administered by law enforcement. I understand that combating the opiate epidemic is not going to be pretty, but what surprises me is the lack of compassion and empathy that some people have. As a community, we have to remind ourselves that we are talking about the value of human life.  This is not happening in another country, it is happening in our neighborhoods, it is happening to our children, and our loved ones. I commend the pragmatic policy-making that has been taking place in Massachusetts and I have faith that we will continue down the right path. I know for myself, I would not be here if first responders did not have Narcan on them. The world would have one less son, one less brother, one less neighbor, and one less editorial.


Friday, December 19, 2014

Our Namesake



Our namesake, Whydah Gally, was a ship which wrecked off Wellfleet's coast in 1717.




      
  She was the flagship of notorious pirate "Black Sam" Bellamy, and took several tons of treasure as well as most of her international crew down with her. My fascination with Cape Cod's maritime lore is what first brought the ill fated vessel to my attention.