Back In The USA

Dear Diary,

We arrived back in the US and settled in to a house in Tupelo, MS. It was an older house and not like Brazil at all. I missed Brazil so much. That was my home. I started American school and we began attending the church there. It was a massive church full of rich snobby American kids. I got along with one of the kids at the church but that was about it. At school I met who would become my best friends state side. We did everything together from go carts to sneaking up on his neighbors and egging their house. I had a crush on this girl who I would draw pictures of and send it to her.... she was one of the snobby kids but I asked her to go to the movies(Did I mention that i was in the 4th grade.) Moving along, I started to enjoy my school more and more but I began getting in to trouble quite a bit and was locked in the closet at school almost every day for doing something. I enjoyed my time in the closet because I found an old T.V. which was one of those small portable ones and I plugged it in and caught the Price Is Right and if I was lucky Days of Our Lives. In the summer I was at my mamaw and papaws alot riding four wheelers and fishing alot. My best friend and I would jump over things on the four wheeler to see if we could pop tires when we landed. I made friends with my grandparents neighbors kids. The girl and I became really good friends and her older brother terrorized us with bb guns and such. I would visit some of my cousins on my Grandma's side but I tried not to go around a certain one. I was always on edge when I was there and usually would wake up crying and asking my Uncle to take me home. It wasn't them... I was just terrified because they all lived close together and I imagined "the abuser" somehow getting me. My cousins thought I was a whimp because I would do that but I didn't tell them why, I just said I wanted to go home. I felt bad when I would stay at my Grandma's because I would get anxiouty and sneak and call my mamaw and papaw and have them come pick me up. Nothing happened that year thankfully and before I knew it the year had passed and I was telling my oldest sister,my best friend, and family goodby but I was more than ready to get home to Brazil.

Shocker

Dear Diary,

I know that I have been revisiting my past to lead me to the present but I am going to have to break the rules, Today, actually the last two days have been really tough. I don't want to get in to the theology of things because I guess I am not one to say what is and what is not biblical. I have heard both sides of this argument and am not going to say I know because I don't. So here it is, I have accepted the fact that I am an addict. I have known this for 11 years or more. At some point in time I started down the path of thinking I am healed. Let me clarify what that means. I know that God broke me free from that bondage and gave me the tools to fight it and I know of people who God completely removed that thorn from their side. For a while I didn't think about getting high. I quit going to meetings and being around people in recovery. I might have had a thought come in every now and again but I took on the attitude that I was "healed." I might have not been using but I have the addict personality. It's all about me. To add to that I rationalized that alcohol was different. I could have a beer with dinner or go out on occasion and have a little fun as long as I wasn't "drunk." I have done this for years now. For a while I managed it okay. Slowly but surely I started drinking more and it's not that I drank every day or stayed drunk all the time. I would social drink but have 8 beers compared to everyone else who had 2, however, I would usually sneak those in while others weren't looking to ensure I got my buzz. Next thing I know I am not even hiding it anymore because I just surrounded myself with those who were ok with it and I talked people in to thinking it was ok as long as I didn't do it all the time. I dropped money like it was nothing. Looking at everyone else who went out on the weekend I thought it was normal right? When my ex-wife and I seperated the first time I was drinking every single night. We got back together and I slowed down but we both were drinking now. She did better than I did. She could drink the 2 drinks and stop meanwhile it took more to satisfy my thirst. Recovery wasn't even in my thought process at this point in time because I wasn't getting high or thinking about it. At this point I was on the road with an Artist traveling around the country in a rolling bar. Funny how I didn't see it coming. I stumbled a couple of times towards the end of my marriage and I got high. I can start to make excuses as to why I did but that's what I do as an addict. Some people eat, some sleep, and there are those who look at porn but I choose chemicals. During my divorce I stumbled again and I got high and a friend called my sisters who called my mom who drove to Nashville to see me. I didn't use after that because I remembered the hurt and how much it would kill my family. I did drink though. I was out drinking every night again. Spending money again until I was broke and broken inside. That was one year ago. I moved to Jackson to be with my parents and clear my head. I didn't drink as much... during the week anyway. I would wait until I was on the bus and drink enough to last me a week. I did try to work on things and I started going to a counselor. I had an amazing friend who talked me through some major things. After going to counseling I stopped drinking..... Until late September. I hadn't seen my counselor in a while because she took a couple of months off to have a baby and it had been a couple of months so I figured I could go back to a couple of beers socially. I was back to my old routine again. It started out kinda slow but soon enough I was out every night again. So, I went to my first counseling session with Dr. Pratt. While we are talking and I shared with him about my drinking a little to much and all of that I was waiting on the diagnosis.... He told me that I needed to hit an AA meeting immediately if not sooner. Honeslty it pissed me off. I haven't used drugs in a long time so why go to an AA meeting? He continued to say that for the last 8 years I have been dry not sober and that I am still an addict with or without the substance my thinking is that way and if I am not working a program then I am not healthy. It was a slap in the face. I knew he was right.... I left his office thinking how stupid I was and am but didn't go to a meeting. So.... the last couple of days I have had a ghost from my past visiting me and it has been painful. I haven't answered her haunting but I have been thinking about her alot and yesterday morning I woke up with the sickest feeling in my gut. I didn't have an appointment again with Dr. Pratt until the 4th and I just needed someone to talk to. I sat at the computer where I began writing a song idea and praying that God would just give me release and take the hurt and thoughts from my head when my phone rang and it was Dr. Pratt who said someone canceled an appointment and did I want to come in. I ran through the house frantically to get ready meanwhile shouting to God thank you! I get there and we talk at which point I tell him that the AA thing through me for a loop. Honestly, over the weekend I had thought about the AA thing but I was scared at the big sign flashing in my head..... I told Dr. Pratt that I am an alcoholic. It never clicked before. I have been through this!!! I know what denial is so why didn't I see it before!!! We talked a bit more and then I left his office and after a quick stop at Starbuck's I caught my first AA meeting. It sucked!!! I didn't want to be there but I knew I needed to be. It was my turn to speak and I thought I was going to throw up when I said "Hi, my name is Ben and I am an Addict and an Alcoholic." This is going to be hard work.... I picked up my sobriety chip and made the committment to living life with sober thinking again working my program and living my life in recovery. So January 27 is my sobriety birthday. I can never drink again. My brain can't even wrap around that.... Not a drop.... I almost have a panic attack thinking about it but today is today. Today I am sober and when tomorrow gets here then I will deal with that. I am afraid of what I am going to uncover underneath it all. When these scaled are pealed from my eyes and I see the damage caused to those around me.... There is so much more but I have already spilled enough for now. Maybe later I will write more about what was happening underneath and in between all of these events. I am trying to be cautious about who I write about because I don't want it to seem as though I am being spiteful.... but.... I do want to be real.

Joining The Country Club

Dear Diary,

I remember the first night at the new house sitting in our empty living room waiting on the movers to get there because in Brazil they are not in a big hurry. I was leaned up against Mary's arm holding tightly to her and drifting off to sleep. The next day I heard the doorbell ring and my mom's voice talking to a kid so I walked to the door and that's when I met my neighbor from across the street. He saw my bike coming off of the truck so he knew there was a kid at the house and we set off to discover the neighborhood. We became really good friends. Our Bairro which is like a name for a district or neighborhood was call "Country Club" which is pronounced Count-tree(roll the r) Cloo-be. This is was one of the wealthiest communities of Cascavel. But I hung out with the ones who weren't so wealthy... who actually were barely getting by. By hanging out with them I became the enemy of most of the rich kids. We formed our own little gangs and wouldn't hesitate to throw down at the sight of each other. We even had meetings where we made plans to ambush the rich kids with our slingshots filled with little berry's we picked off of trees. I introduced my friends to the Slip & Slide and we played games like who can slide down and not get hit by lemon's that the others were throwing at them. My parents started a new church that met in an old office that belonged to a church member. I loved my new church because it was all of my real friends from my old church's family that help my dad start it. The church started growing immediately. In school I had a hard time paying attention because I was a very hyper child who constantly being distracted. I caused my sisters alot of grief because I found entertainment in annoying the crap out of them. My sister Sonya was 7 years older and Sara was 5 years older than me. I would hide in their closet and wait for them to open the door and then I would jump out and kick them because I thought I was a ninja. I went to the emergency room a couple of more times because I broke my left arm climbing a tree and then I tried to jump a ramp on my bycycle and land without using my hands. Oh... and I forgot about another one of my visits to the emergency rooms!!! One night my dad was going to a men's choir practice and I went with him. At our church there was a massive iron gate that you had to open to park inside and when I say massive I mean massive. We got there and all of the guys pulled in and I went because I thought that maybe one of my friends would be there but they weren't there. So while the men started practice I went outside to play and I notice the gate still open. I walked over and put everything I had in to sliding this gate closed and i remember that it started moving and then that it wasn't moving to close but falling towards me and in a blink of an I was trapped underneath. I couldn't move it at all and the grid was crushing my head and my chest to the point I could hardly breathe and I screamed with what little breath I had and a car honked as it drove by. It seemed like an eternity before I heard them men running out and calling my name but they ran past me and in to the street because they thought I had been hit by a car. I screamed again and they finally saw me. Normally it would take probably 5 or 6 guys to lift this gate but one of my friends dad ran over and lifted this thing by himself and the rest of the guys grabbed me and we were off to the emergency room because I was bleeding alot from my eye and on top of my forehead. After several stitches and my mom getting there I was ok. Later on when the men looked at the gate to see what happened they noticed that the corner of the churches wall had a huge chunk taken out by the gate and it stopped the gate from crushing me but if it had fallen another inch I would not be here right now. That was my first encounter with God's sovereign intervention..... I made a full recovery and continued on. Years went on and I had adjusted to my new house. I still had nightmares of what happened to me in MS and the weight was still there but if I stayed busy I didn't think about it as much. I was safe now.... but my trust was broken again.... It always hurts the most when a person you love breaks that trust to..... I don't know if it was who or that it seemed to be happening over and over again but my spirit was fading slowly.... "Why is this happening? He is my friend... why is he doing this? It's my fault..." Even though I went before the church and told them I accepted Christ into my heart and I was Baptized I really didn't trust God and I only did it because my best friend went forward and I knew I could finally drink the juice and eat the bread at church. Looking back now I am amazed at how young I was when I began wearing the mask of "I have it all together, I'm fine." The day came when we were to come back to the U.S. for our furlough. We said goodbye to friends and to Mary who would not be back when we came back because her term was over and we left for Tupelo, MS where we would stay for a year.... Back to the land of gotten where hurt and pain is not forgotten....

The Dissapointment Of Tom Sawyer

Dear Diary,

He was the coolest kid in the neighborhood. He could do tricks on his bike that we all dreamed about. He was 8 years older than the rest of us and I thought he knew the answers to the universe. One of our favorite pass time's was to stand on my wall and jump in to a pile of hay where spiders would nest and roll out of it before we were bit...pretty smart ey? We also used to hang out on the concrete roof of my laundry room which was separate from my house. It was there that he began drawing things that I felt in my gut were wrong but I said nothing because he was the cool kid who I thought was a real life Tom Sawyer. Soon we were all hanging out at his house having a firecracker war with things we called bombina's which means "little bomb's" in English. After we were tired of that he asked me and another friend if we wanted to see something cool and of course we did! It was my first time to see porn but it wasn't like a magazine it was in the form of a comic book. I was 5 and totally curious but at the same time I felt the weight of shame surrounding me. He gave me the book.... I can't say that I was super thrilled about it.... I took it home though and as I was walking up the driveway to my house I stuffed it under my shirt... keep in mind that I am 5... I walk in with arms crossed over my chest you know...strolling to my room when I hear my mom's voice "Benjamin" and I knew I was busted. She discovered it and that night my dad had a talk with me. I didn't give up names though as to where I got the book. Late night's in Brazil you don't need cinemax to see anything cause all you have to do is stay up really late and it comes on network tv. My eyes were glued to the screen and I can't describe the thoughts going through my head. I started noticing the dreams more and more where I was back in MS and trapped behind the chicken coupe. I told my hero that I was busted but that I didn't give up names and he was relieved. Pressure, seems like pressure started building even at that age. It wasn't long until he had us neighborhood boys under his control. The shame grew heavier and I thought... Is this normal? Why does this keep happening? I kept it my secret.... It didn't stop until we bought a house on the other side of the city. I never went back to that neighborhood......

Gone Country

Dear Diary,

We arrived in Cascavel which was a tad bit smaller than Campinas/Sao Paolo which had around 19 million people at the time and Cascavel only had 1 million I believe. Life was different there for sure because it was more in the south it moved at a slower pace which Brazil compared to the U.S. moves at a way slower pace anyway. I made friends with my neighbor immediately and it wasn't long that I knew the entire neighborhood. I finally learned how to ride my bike that my parents had got me for Christmas because my feet could actually touch the petals now. I pretty much lived on my bike from then on. We started attending a church named Betel which is Bethel in English and I hated it at first. I didn't like the pastor at all, of course I was 5 at the time and most grown ups I didn't like all that much but something didn't sit well with me anyways. It took a little bit but then I made friends and began loving the church. I met my best friend that year. His name was Marcos and we were always together.... I mean always. You know when you are soclose to your friends that you actually have to empty your bladders at the same time... yeah we were that close. That is also the year that Mary came to teach me homeschooling. She was our Journeymen from Texas and of course I was in love at first site. I ate beans and rice every day and drank a ton of a drink called Guarana. We had a maid name Irani(spelling is questionable) who ironed everything including my underwear which was kinda creepy. I adjusted really quickly to Cascavel and soon it felt like I had been there my entire short life. I didn't think about the U.S. anymore... I thought about bycycles, slingshot's, and soon.... sex.

Home

Dear Diary,

So everything was packed from the crate that was shipped by boat early to our many suitcases. We left Memphis that day with a lot of our family standing at the gate because back then you could get past security. We met up with our friends from MLC(my friend who I thought was my girlfriend) at the Miami airport to continue our trip together. We both had Teddy Rubskins or however you spell that teddy bear that talked and told you stories. It was in the Miami airport that I said goodbye to my long time invisible friend Jason.... I wonder where he went anyway? I bet he went to the Virgin Island's and has been kicking it there! We arrived in Brazil and made our home in Campinas where my parents would go to language school for a year and I was sent to Kindergarden at the Brazilian school. I made friends fast there... my neighbors all around soon became my best friends! My first day at school was dreadful... I hated it... it was loud and noisy and there were a lot of kids eating glue and acting stupid I thought. I was bored cutting out shapes and singing stupid songs. The teacher talked to my parents and I ended up in first grade. I loved first grade!!! I had two friends with me... Rebecca and my friend Daniel. So I learned how to write in Portuguese and spell in Portuguese before I learned how to in English and I thought that was cool. Within the first week I could sing the Brazilian National Anthem and I did it often... in fact my dad found a video over the holidays of me standing in my underwear singing it for the camera and family back home( my sisters loved that one). Brazil was home for me. I really didn't think about the U.S. except for family but I didn't miss all of them. My first Halloween in Brazil marked my first visit to the emergency room because I was playing around the swingset with friends when I fell and someone swinging caught my head and there was a nail hanging underneath which split me wide open. I remember getting up and feeling the warm blood on my hands and then it came pouring over my face. Looking back now it was like a scene out of the old horror movie Carrie! My parents and friends were inside having a Halloween party and here I came walking through the door screaming with blood flowing down my face. I got my first set of stitches that day and the lady doing it said it would feel like little ants on my head... she lied!!!! Stitches actually didn't bother me all that much... I was back to playing in no time. That same year I had my first root cannal and I remember the dentist who was my neighbor across the street pulling out a needle to numb my mouth and I refused it.... I pitched such a fit that my mom and he agreed to doing it without numbing my mouth. I got my way but it hurt really, really, really bad. I used to swim behind his house with his kids and try to do every daredevil trick I could. I tried a frontwards flip and cut my head open again.... My first birthday there I turned 5 and I thought I ruled the world. Before I knew it our time in Campinas was over and we packed up and moved on down to southern Brazil to a place called Cascavel which in English means rattlesnake. Sounded like an adventure to me and it proved to be some of the best days of my lifebut it was there that I also met another side of darkness....

Meet Virginia

Dear Diary,

Let me continue where I left off yesterday. So my family moved up to Virginia for a few weeks of learning how to deal with a new culture and I guess strategy and all that blah blah stuff. I liked Virginia... It was like vacation bible school but cooler! I was always around people and I guess I have always been the hyper kid that got quite a bit of attention which doesn't make a lot of sense to me because I was always nervous about first meeting someone but then I guess I get comfortable quickly. Miami Vice was big back then... I mean BIG!!! I had my favorite Hawaiian style shirt that I wore as much as possible so I could look like Don Johnson... I didn't really pay much attention to the dreams that I was having then or I guess I didn't really know what they were about but I knew I felt dirty when I would wake up. There was a young woman who was there for training to go to Brazil as a journeyman to teach missionary kids and she became my nanny. I fell in love with her immediately!!! I loved it when my parents had to go to meetings and she would watch me... geez... I got started early. Of course, the feeling I so deeply felt for my older mistress was not mutual so I found a girl more age appropriate.... She was my best friend and just so happened to be moving to Brazil exactly when I was so it was perfect. She was my first kiss.... I know... 4 years old right! There was one encounter there that wasn't so good.... brought back all of the fear I had left back in MS... but this time it wasn't family. Once again... I do not remember what was going on outside of her room but I do know my sisters and parents were out with the rest of the group that was getting together that evening. She was an MK(missionsary kid) but she was older than me. I remember she locked and I wondered why.... hmmm.... the shame was overwhelming and later when her brother knocked on the door and she unlocked it instead of walking in to freedom it felt like the doors of a prison were being closed on my 4 year old heart. What do you do? I didn't know.... Was this normal? I have done something wrong!!! Those were the thoughts swimming around in my head. Soon MLC was over and we were going back to my grandparents to pack and get ready for Brazil.... Yes!!! Brazil would be my escape.....

When Innocence Died

Dear Diary,

 It's funny how I can't remember how I got there or how I left but everything else seems like it happened yesterday. The pain and nausea still rushes my body as a wave crashing upon a statue made of sand. I can see the old rope swing that I could only climb up about 5 feet and I can see the path through the kudzu that I always thought was Poison Ivy so I would run through it. There was the rusty abandoned chicken coup that used to be our war prison when we played Cowboys and Indians. Oh the simple life of a 4 year old... He was 18 I think or maybe older.... I know that this time my journey into the magical woods behind my Aunts house was different. I ran down the kudzu path and walked out with my head lowered in shame and for the first time Poison Ivy didn't seem to bother me. Something broke inside of me that day. I felt ashamed and dirty. For the first time in my life I didn't feel safe. I didn't tell a soul because I was told that I did something bad and i would be in trouble but the scariest part was the threat of being harmed. Life continued and I stood still. Later on I visited the house again and this time I was spending the night. I remember being so scared and my breath speeding up so fast it felt like i couldn't get a good breath. During the day I was surrounded by drugs because my uncle had been selling... He later died from a heart attack alone in the bathroom. That night I was sent to sleep in my cousin's room. That night I don't remember as well... i guess blocked out most of it... i just remember crying and asking to go back to my parents because I had a stomach ache. At least that's what I told my Aunt and she said to wait until the morning. The next morning I was silent as we drove back to my Grandma's house and i was silent about all that happened for a while to come. I think it's weird how my mind could block out some of the events that took place but my heart still feels the pain. Then came the day we moved to Virginia so my parents could go to Missionary Learning Center because they felt God calling them to Brazil. Ah.... this was my first escape.......

Where Everything Starts

Dear Diary,

I guess I should start at the beginning. I was born in Mormon country on April 21st 1981. My mom tells me it was freezing outside and that her doctor was out of town when she went in to labor but I was coming none the less. I would have been born in the car if I was facing the wrong direction coming out feet first. Guess I really haven't changed on my approach of life. I was a healthy baby. A chunky monkey one might say. We moved to South Dakota when I was about 1 year old and stayed there until I was 3 I think. I can remember some of my days in the frozen hell of S.D. I remember making snow cream and looking out the window waiting for my sister Sara to round the corner at any moment from school. I also remember bouncing around on the couch while my mom was bringing in groceries from outside and for some reason feeling the need to jump and slam the door at which point I heard my mom scream because her fingers were caught in the act. That was the first time I hurt her and I felt physically sick knowing I had... Funny how I still think of that sometimes and regret ever doing that. Moving right along... When I was 3 we moved to Basfield, Mississippi, where my dad was a pastor at a local church. I have more memories there. I had an invisible friend named Jason and a dog named Pete whom I loved. Our family friend we called Doc was my hero and I practically lived at his house watching Indiana Jones and eating Raisin Brand cereal. I was big in to coffee and climbed up on a counter top one morning at about 4am and made a pot myself at which point my mom decided to cut me off. I was normal and doing normal things... you know the youngest of the family with 2 older sisters who lived to embarass me by dressing me up in their old dresses and parading around the neighborhood showing me off and feeding me mud pies. Life was good!!! There was the creepy neighbor who everyone thought was a serial killer and I dared not walk by his house alone. My grandparents lived in Pontotoc, Mississippi, which was only a couple of hours away so it was good. I would go visit them sometimes. I loved going to Pontotoc to see mamaw and papaw and of course Grandma and my grandpa whom we called Pupu. My parents always warned me about going to see a certain aunt and to watch out for a certain cousin. I was 4 though... they tell me now that they told my grandma not to let me stay at this cousins house... but she let me go a couple of times. Then came the day my life would be changed forever......