Reason to Live: Transformation of a Junkie

A story I've never told in full... and lately, haven't said anything at all, until now:

It was an obscenely late hour, but no junkie coming off heroin sleeps much — even if they’ve had it out of their system for 30 - 60 days, the whole “sleep” thing doesn’t come back steady until about a year of sobriety.

Luckily, we were all in it together. I’d say we made good use of those late hours.

This story is one of them, and I found a reason to live because of it:

That night, it was just me and my friend Nate. We were both coming off heroin and in rehab. It was 2009.

Both of us were poets. Growing up, I was always an avid writer and reader. Always a wild imagination — that never changed. I’d say writing, especially lyrics/poetry, was my first real coping skill in life… until I found alcohol and drugs.

When I found liquor and all of the drugs, (I didn’t discriminate much and I’m a real fast discoverer of things) — the writing stopped. I don’t think anything continued except being fucked up constantly, and doing crazy shit to ensure I had money to get more, or doing crazy shit for a “?” reason.

During a period where I was locked away (this period of isolation occurred for nearly a year when I was 15) the writing came back full force. I still have those notebooks.

Then, I was released.. not because anyone let me out, but because the facility went bankrupt for losing too many child abuse lawsuits. See this podcast with Joe Rogan if you want to know more, as the guest he interviews went to the same “facility” I did:

**viewer discretion may be advised. I can’t watch more than two minutes of it because I was there. But if you’d like to take a PEEK here you go.**

Otherwise: We’re going to continue the conversation in a much more magical jovial direction down below, okay?

So, now that we’re moving past the cult and out of the years of addiction:

We land back in that treatment center in 2009: Two poets smoked cigarettes and bonded over surviving the heroin war. Yet he noticed something different about the two of us. Something I did not.

Nate was someone who went to school for writing and was much more of a literary type, meaning: Our writing styles were different. I didn’t think anything of it, but thank God he did.

He read my poem of the evening and said,

“Your writing doesn’t read like poetry. This reads like a song. I can hear the measure count, the beat, rhythm, in my head like a song.”

I had written as a creative outlet since I could remember — but NEVER did I sing. I always loved music more than words can describe, but never thought I was a person with any gift or talent.

I often had this thought:

“If I could sing, I would NEVER shut the fuck up!” I imagined singing to be such an unbelievable magical power, that if I had it, I would NEVER stop using that gift. But of course, I had already assigned myself as “someone who couldn’t sing”, even though I never actually tried it.

I was 20 years old that night in 2009 when Nate said that to me. Still a “non-singer” who “couldn’t sing” even though I never tried, because I just assumed I couldn’t.

I had such a self-deprecating mind that even the thought of having dreams for my life, or entertaining the thought of doing something I’d love to do, felt unthinkable.

Translation: I never allowed those thoughts into my head.

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Terror struck and my heart fell through the floor

because instantly, the thought hit me:

“You’re gonna have to sing those words now.”

I have no logic for this. It hit me like a lightning bolt, and it was NOT something I wanted to do — it was something I had to do.

I didn’t know why at first, but soon I would realize all the hell I survived wasn’t for nothing, and it wasn’t even for me — it had to be used to reach other people in the struggle.

One of the greatest hallmarks of being in hell is suffering from the illusion that you’re the only one in it. I was familiar with that. Shattering that illusion by being around others on the road to recovery changed things for me overnight.

So, I knew the power in connection and being honest. I knew the power of shared stories.

Music would be the tool of connection to help others. That was all I needed to know.

I don’t remember the rest of the night. I have no idea what I said to Nate. I remember going back upstairs, and I made a deal with myself…

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The Pact

“If I can make it to 90 days clean without relapsing and dying, then I’ll give singing a try.”

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90 days later..

I was still clean and sober. Holy shit.

More months went by, and right before I approached my first year of sobriety, I sang for my first time when I walked into a “Group Voice” class at Lane Community College.

Group Voice isn’t much different than choir, except you had to do solos in front of the group as part of the class. I don’t know if choirs do that. Maybe?

I also signed up for a music technology class. That was where I first got the feel for how to run my own recording set up, and I’m so grateful for that. I recorded my first song at that community college.

Then, I took what was left of my student loan money and went to Guitar Center to buy the minimum amount of gear needed to have my own studio at home. I didn’t want to rely on whoever was out there to record me.

I didn’t want to be around drugs, I didn’t want to be around men I didn’t trust, and I wanted control over my music; so I learned to do everything myself and bypassed that whole mess.

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I almost quit before I started because I was afraid

Growing up, I never went to class. I always said fuck this and would go to school to meet up with friends, then we’d leave and go do whatever we wanted, which was usually smoke, drink, get high, steal stuff, whatever. Escape life so we could feel like we had agency in our own.

I remember walking up to the room where the Group Voice class was held. It was September 2010. I stopped right before I opened the door, halfway turned around, then froze.

I was about to walk away.

I was about to say, you know what, fuck this, I don’t really feel like doing Group Voice, I think the music technology is enough, I’ll just produce beats instead of sing.

I was backing out of my own deal. I was afraid, and my mind had begun to make excuses.

Then another (and certainly new) part of my mind chimed in:

NO. You’re doing what you always do. You’ve always skipped class. This is old behavior.

That was enough to un-freeze me, get me to turn back around, and walk through those doors into…

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Group Voice.

I immediately saw a familiar and friendly face. My old friend Jason. Turned out he had started a really badass blues band. He didn’t go down the rabbit hole of drugs, he hung around us misfits certainly, he had no easy life either, but he never got hooked on the hard shit. Thank God.

There was Jason. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t seen him in years. Connection again for the win. That wound up being an incredible thing, I was blessed to enjoy many good times and live shows with Jason in the years ahead.

Another amazing thing about deciding to live — you don’t just “get back what you lost” — a lot of what we lost wasn’t something worth having. When we start a new chapter, or in this case, when we surrender our old lives completely and begin to walk the road of recovery, we have a blank check from the universe - there are no limits.

This is the gift of life. This is the gift of starting over. This is the gift of renewal. It is available to us all.

“What would it take for you, to light a match and burn your life to the ground?”

-Edward Snowden

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The time for people to do solos in front of the class came.

I had never done that before. I don’t think I had even sang out loud by myself. I was too afraid to hear my own voice.

So, because of that, I said fuck it, and threw myself to the wolves— I decided to go first.

I have no idea what I sang or what the “outcome” was, but I didn’t die! And the takeaway?

I was like oh weird. I had no idea I could sing. Turns out I can. 🤯

Good thing I didn’t skip class again.

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Heroin -> Recovery -> Music

***This is a much older song of mine. My style and ability have changed drastically, but I’m sharing my song Heroin here because of the story it tells. You’ll understand why. Heads up, there are police sirens incorporated with the beat, so if you’re sensitive to that sound, warning.***

Well, that’s how it started. Two detoxing junkies who shared poetry… and one believed in and saw something in the other.

And it would continue.

I can’t tell you how many times music has been the reason why I didn’t relapse when I wanted to, or why I didn’t commit suicide when I wanted to. Many times, it was the ONLY reason.

I also can’t tell you how many times having the kinship among others in recovery (people like Nate) also saved my life when seemingly, nothing else could have.

So you see how the reason to live of course is music, it’s been in my soul always, as has poetry — but these are vehicles for the ultimate dharma, which is Love, Connection, Harmony, Freedom.

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It has been over 14 years of sobriety now.

Never a return to drugs or alcohol, and surprisingly I haven’t taken myself out either. I’ve come close. When every other measure failed.. music, and this annoyingly INCESSANT need to want to help the world and its people.. it will NOT let me go.

It doesn’t have shit to do with fame or making a cool song that people like to drink beers and get high to, I couldn’t care less about that.

Fuck bread and circuses.

I care about the Revolution of Humanity — that’s what I’m here for.

Every Revolution needs Music. Every Revolution needs Art.

When conversation, ideas, and all other forms of communication fail… music, poetry, art in any form will prevail.

There is a fluency in us all, even if you hear a song in a different language, YOU WILL STILL UNDERSTAND IT.

Real art is encapsulated emotions and experiences — lightning in a bottle.

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Now,

Everything has changed, but for everything to change.. everything had to go exactly the way it did.

To people who are new to this publication, this may sound confusing, as there are multiple timelines here that seem like they should be linear, but not so.

I stated my life over completely in 2009 with sobriety. I’ve done it with other things in since then. Most recently, I started my life over 7 months ago when I walked away from an extremely abusive relationship. I had a decent case of stockholm syndrome, it was not an easy thing to do, but ultimately, I didn’t want to die at the hands of someone else.

Every time I choose life, and rip away vice and torment, things change to where you become unrecognizable in a very short time, for the better.

Just as eclipses are natural and bring crises and destabilization, this is for the purpose of the growth and continuation of life. Things destabilize and sometimes break down so they can expand and grow further. If things are always in a “stasis” — they get stagnant and decay. This is just how nature is. We are no different.

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Alchemy in Motion, Returning to the Reason:

This new change, regarding how I operate in life and how I express myself and approach the situation (world on fire, must find solution), began in the last year, but has not yet been shown above the surface.

At least not regarding music, but in other ways, dude…

I had people from my hometown ask me if my Facebook was hacked because I made a post related to the line of work I’m now in — the last thing anyone from home would expect I’d be doing. Serious life upgrades happen when you surrender to the next chapter.

I think they expected me to maybe still make music, but also, still be the waitress at IHOP who nearly stabbed someone on Christmas Eve.

I have retired from waiting tables, thank you very much.

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Back to the Reason:

I was on the phone with a good friend yesterday - we grew up in the same home town, both lived in LA, but I dipped out when it turned into Diet North Korea during the lockdowns / vax mandates in 2020-2021… but we have stayed in touch consistently.

She is a musician too.

We asked ourselves, both creatives and artists who have hit periods of internal struggles and blockages — “Why do we resist the things that set our souls free?”

We made a decision and plan to work together to re-commit to our art and expressing our true nature — that whole vulnerability piece.

I don’t know about you, but…

When you go through so many fires, you get to a point where you burn away who you thought you were, and find out who you’ve always been.

The angry “fuck you” energy that was present in 90% of my music — that was authentic to me at that time. But is that who I have found myself to be underneath that? No.

That’s what I thought I was. I was terrified of anything else.

How else do you survive without being ready for war 24/7?

That question can be answered a thousand ways.

I suppose I will answer when I am ready to share the result (via music) of going through hell over and over and over (yes even in sobriety) but never relapsing, and never killing myself. Those are two things I have done at a 100% success rate.

That might not sound like much to you, but if you knew me, you’d know how fucking crazy it is that I’m able to say that.

Something medicinal was born of that — and recently.

This is the change I can’t put words to, but I can transmit to you with art. To those stepping into a new level of experience after very long struggles, you understand this.

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There comes a point where when you break again, you don’t recycle the same way.

Maybe we unlocked a universal cheat code or a new level — something is WAY different, and the rest will be shown in time.

Until we’re all in freedom land, wherever the fuck that is (our hearts) — guard your preciousness, whatever is precious to you. But when it is ready, and when you are ready — hold nothing back.

Leave life like a deflated balloon.

Not because they took everything from you —-

but because you held nothing back.

In my closet vocal booth at my apartment in Oregon — this was right before I moved to Nashville, and right after I bolted outta Los Angeles due to the vax mandates, lockdowns, etc. (March 4th, 2022)

Performing an hour long set of original music at the Self Reliance Festival - held at Special Operations Equipment (S.O.E) in Camden, Tennessee — October 1st, 2022.

Just now noticed… this was taken only 7 months after that picture in my closet studio. That’s a fucking trip. Feels like those two pictures were from different lifetimes.

That’s what taking risks, telling tyranny to get fucked, and jumping into the void to follow what you love will do.

I encourage you to do the same, whatever it looks like, whatever it is — only YOU know. And maybe you’ll be blessed enough like me to have had a friend in life like Nate.

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Blessed be Nate. May you Fly in Bliss.

You are forever woven into the 180 turn of my destiny — by the power of your spoken word, so it was.

To my sadness, I could not find any pictures of Nate.

It has been a long time since he passed away. He fought a battle with an illness that already had him very sick when he was in his early 20s. I am not referring to addiction.

It was something in his lungs. Cystic Fibrosis. He had been told by doctors he wasn’t going to live much longer. He seemed to be at peace with that. And you know what?

A kid in his early 20s who was told by doctors he wouldn’t live past 25 (and he did not), still thought it’d be worth it to get clean and stop using heroin.

So to the people out there who are stuck in an addiction, but think it’s “too late to change” or “what’s the point” —

Nate knew he was going to die in a few years, and he still found sobriety to be a worthy pursuit.

Getting sober is already hard enough, can you imagine how hard it would be if you knew you only had two or three years left anyway?

He changed and impacted a lot of peoples lives who will remember him FOREVER because of it.

So… if you’re one of those people, what the fuck are you waiting for?

❤️

Thank you

Jessica J

. When I was talking to you today and sharing briefly how much it meant to me that you were supportive of my music and sharing it with your people — that’s what reminded me of ALL of this, and inspired me to write all of this. Thank you. Thank you for reminding me why I’m here and what the mission still is, and thank you for choosing to survive against all odds as well. I’m glad our paths have crossed.