Hookers and Hand Grenades

Let it never be said that my life is boring. Let it never be said that my life is easy. No life should lack excitement, or difficulty for that matter. Without the difficulty one may never know that they are alive. I sometimes think easy would be boring and therefor not worth having.

The following is the story of my last few days, and how I came to understand I am no longer a bad man.

It started innocuously, with an email from a friend of a friend. Two years ago, my friend of friends E introduced me to the love of his life. He met her on the job, which is not that rare for people, except for the fact that his job was that of a pimp. The reality is, he would have never called himself that, nor would he have dressed or acted the part, but when it comes down to it, he was a pimp and a drug dealer.

He ran a strip club that had a cheap motel attached to it. Guess what was going on there people.

Anyway, he introduced me to this woman he had met on the job, and I was pleased to meet her from the standpoint of being happy he was somewhat settled down.

Then E killed himself and left her stranded in a sea of depravity. She had no guide, no life boat, no map. She was merely lost adrift with nothing but what she knew as a survival mechanism.

My life moved on and she was not a part of it.

Then the email arrived. In it she discussed the fact that she may or may not be about to be killed, and that she may or may not be having a drug problem. She begged for my help. She was afraid of her new manager, and afraid of what he might do for her. She needed me to come and rescue her.

Sometimes we are a victim of our instincts, and my instincts told me this was a bad thing. They also told me I knew how to deal with this. I am not proud of this, but there have been points in my life where I could walk in to a room and my will would dominate the situation.

The problem here is that I am not that guy anymore. I am not the large angry tattooed man any more. I am just not. Regular readers of my blog would see me more as the sad pathetic guy who can't get a woman. I suppose in a sense, this is what I have become, though I would like to think I am more.

Yesterday I became more.

On Friday though, I was a collection of misfiring neurons. I had no idea what to do. There was a part of me that felt responsible for her. That part was the part of me that had made a promise to sacrifice myself for E. We all had. There was a part of me that felt I had failed E when he died, and thought this was a chance to make up for that failing. There was also a part of me that felt guilty for having cut ties with this woman. I had simply let her go because she was a symbol of my failure and grief, and I couldn't live with that. There was also a part of me that wanted to prove I was not pathetic, that I still had the courage and manliness to get the job done.

I have always prided myself on the fact that I was not scared to act when the chips were done. A part of me that thrived under pressure and rose to the occasion to do that which was necessary to protect myself and my loved ones no matter what needed to be done. I felt like I might have lost that. It happened slowly, but when my ex told me she had been raped, I didn't bat an eyelash. I didn't run to her to claim revenge, I didn't move a muscle. I wanted to, but somewhere in the back of my mind I called bullshit, but I also called bullshit on myself. I wanted to believe she was lying so that I didn't have to do anything. I wanted to believe she was making it up so that she could drag me down to where she was at the time. SO I didn't act. But I always felt I did nothing because I was scared to become my old self.

So now I had this new chance to be my old self. I immediately went to a friend or two to get my mind screwed on safely, and make the decision of how to respond.

One friend told me not to do it. Not to get involved. What this person told me pissed me off. In many ways, it made me resent this person.

This person wanted me to just sit back and let the chips fall where they may because I didn't owe these people anything. Maybe this person was right, but I didn't think so.

All of a sudden I was angry. All of the sudden I was confused because my anger was misplaced.

Then I began to understand why I was mad.

I am not that man any more. I am not the violent, reactionary man, but I am still a strong person, a courageous person. I am tough and I am smart. I felt my friend was not giving me any credit for this. My friend was thinking in terms of me busting down doors and cracking heads; but, I am not that guy. I am a new guy. I am a smarter more sophisticated guy.

That was when I decided to show this friend, and myself that I have changed, that I am stronger inside than I ever was before. I could do this, and I could do it all without threatening, beating, pounding, shooting, snorting, or bullying. I could use my new skills to get the job done.

Many years ago, I had decided that I wanted to help people. I wanted to help get the lost and confused, the drugged out and the abused, the abandoned misused out of bad situation and in to good ones. You see, I have some skills some people don't. I have been there. I know exactly what it feels like to be lost and alone. I know what it feels like to think nothing is ever going to be alright again. I also know exactly what it takes to fix it.

I went back to school with the plan of becoming an addiction counsellor and crisis worker. I have all the training I need and several certifications with organizations with ridiculous acronyms.

What I don't have is a regular job doing these things, but I digress.

The point is, I have fully realised my new skill set and mindset. My friend did not give me any credit as this new person. This person who can and will help people in need by using his brain and his compassion rather than his brawn and his passion.

I went to this hooker. I went to her side and checked in to a seedy motel. I think many people wouldn't understand why or how I could do such a thing, but I am not shy, nor am I afraid of doing things that are dirty.

To protect this hooker's dignity, I will not go in to very much detail here because despite all her faults and bad decisions, she is a good person, a person deserving our respect. She is a person who deserves our kindness because she wants to better her life, even though she is scared and it is hard.

I will tell you this part though.

I had to confront her business manager. He was not happy to see me. His first thought was that I was some douchebag from a cheap romance movie. His thought was that I was a John trying to buy this whore from him because I foolishly thought she was in love with me.

I may have some issues with thinking women like me more than they do, but I would never be foolish enough to think someone I pay to show me affection actually felt that affection. I suppose my low self-esteem is helpful here. Despite the sad commentary on my inner demon, it is helpful to have the thought, not even a hooker could love me.

I calmly explained that no, I wasn't a customer. I explained who I was. Then he got mad. Apparently E had pissed this man off as well. Thanks buddy, you know, you could have been a little nicer to people.

Moving on, this is when the man started getting threatening and mean. The old me might have simply removed this obstacle. The old me might have reacted violently to his machinations. The new me stood my ground but also calmed the situation. The new me used psychology and a superior thought process to smooth ruffled feathers.

I explained to the man what value she used to be to him and how that value was lost now. I explained how it made good business sense for him to move on to a newer source of income.

He bought what I was selling. It took over an hour but I made him see the value of not being involved with a woman who was no longer stable, and no longer under his thumb. I also explained to him how hurting her or I was counter to his business model.

I left that room without having expressed one threat. I left that room without having hurt anyone. I left that room without backing down. I left that room with my head high, my eyes forward and my mind clear.

I left that room and puked in the parking lot.

It occurs to me now that anger and rage trump fear every time, and the sympathetic nervous system is more powerful than the para-sympathetic nervous system, but that being strong has a different meaning now.

I went back to my hooker. I explained that she could not go back to her life now. I explained to her how she was at a crossroads. Before her lay two paths, and that I could not choose the path for her. I could help her down the path if she choose to follow me, but I could not pull her kicking and screaming.

That night we mourned for her old life. She explained to me the horror of her life, and I think for the first time in her life, someone listened without pity, without judgement and without anger.

For the first time in her life she had a real friend that night.

She also got very very high.

Once I passed out she was left alone with her thoughts, alone with her decision. It took her several hours to come to a conclusion, but when she woke me up she had made her choice. She chose to live.

Then I had a choice to make. My youth had been spent doing various things that could get you fucked up. I had tried everything I could to make myself blissfully unaware of my own pains. Sometimes I still dream of getting high. Sometimes I still wake up with the feeling of being high, and then suddenly sober up and want to get high. I haven't, for the most part.

Since I quit drugs I have smoked pot 5 or 6 times. I kind of give myself a pass on that, even though I shouldn't, but it has been more than ten years since I got clean, and I am glad for that.

This was the first time I had been staring down the barrel of having the means to get totally messed. I had been offered drugs a few times, mostly by E and I had always said no. I think I did it out of sheer stubbornness, not out of inner strength or determination to turn the corner on my own crap.

Yesterday morning I had about an 8-ball of meth in my hands. I had the means to make myself feel better in my hot little hands for the first time. I didn't pay for it, so it hadn't cost me a thing to get a hold of it.

I didn't owe it to anyone to be sober, and I didn't owe anyone for the drugs. I could do them, feel better, feel stronger and get back that feeling of power.

At this point I had a decision to make about who I am. Am I the guy who is strong enough to say no, or am I just the guy who is strong enough not to be around it.

As it turns out, I am the guy who can say no. Though it felt harder than it should have, I flushed the happy powder.

Taking a hooker to rehab really changed my life. Not in the sense that anything is different. I am still the person I was the day before this all began. I am still living in the same place, and I am still poor. I am still underemployed and I am still lonely.

What I am though is still a good person. I am still Strong in a way the old me could have never dreamed of it. Before I left I was a new person, but I hadn't been that person yet. Before I left I was a new man, with new skills, and none of that has changed.

Now I know who I am. And that has made all the difference.

I talked with that same friend because I wanted to explain this to them. I wanted to give this person a front row seat to who I am. I had thought that like me, they hadn't given me any credit for being this better angel of my nature. I thought this person saw me as pathetic and weak and thought I didn't have the ability to get the job done without resorting to violence and thuggary.

I was wrong.

Turns out this person was just scared I would get hurt. Turns out someone out there cares enough about me to be mad when I risk my safety. Turns out maybe I ma wrong about no one loving me.

I see this person's point, and I shall not be getting this involved in some one's care again. What I will be doing though is making sure that when I can help I will.

Today I feel good about myself.

Today I feel loved like I never have before because I love me.

Today I feel cared about because someone I care about almost said they care about me.

Today I feel good because there is one less lost soul wandering the world.

Today I feel good because I was able to do what none of my old friends could. I transcended my life and realised my potential rather than getting bogged down in my baggage.

Today is a good day.