Addiction @ MindSay

June 20, 2008, 2008 (San Dimas, CA) On June 27, 2008, Conversations with Cops at the Watering Hole will feature a conversation with Former San Francisco Police Department Inspector Linda Flanders and Red Wing Police Department Chief of Police Tim Sletten about community prevention tactics and methamphetamine addiction.

Program Date: June 27, 2008

Program Time: 2100 hours, Pacific

Topic: Methamphetamine - Community Prevention Tactics

Listen Live:

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/LawEnforcement/2008/06/28/Methamphetamine-Community-Prevention-Tactics

About the Guests

In the 1970s, Linda Flanders was the first female police officer to join the Mill Valley police Department (California).  By 1980, she had moved across the bay and joined the San Francisco Police Department. During her career she was promoted to the rank of Inspector and trained as a Child Interview Specialist. Linda Flanders worked for several years in the Juvenile Division’s Child Sexual Assault Detail.

Linda Flanders has a degree in Criminal Justice and became a Movement Education Teacher in 1991. Since 1999, she has worked as an independent educational filmmaker and, co-developed the “The Movie Making Process©” as a learning and teaching tool for today’s kids. Using a mix of art education, pop-culture and digital technology the process has developed into the 21^st Century Prevention Program. The original work, “The Movie Making Process”© was recently nominated by the State of Wisconsin as their “Most Promising Prevention Program”.

Linda Flanders has published several articles on alternative learning styles and children who exhibit atypical behavior. And, is the author of the self-help Cinema-therapy book for teens Hollywood Endings and How To Get One.  The prevention program for communities is called The Northern Lights; Shining The Light on the Meth-edemic and mixes entertainment and education to deal with methamphetamine specifically and addiction in general. Linda Flanders’ current project is to work with communities nationwide on the prevention program and evaluation, document it in a peer-reviewed article and submit the findings to the National Institute of Health as a model program. She is actively looking for communities to join this endeavor. www.taprootinc.com

Chief of Police Tim Sletten worked his way up through the ranks of the Red Wing Police Department (Minnesota) and was appointed Chief in 2004. He is very active with the town’s community groups and a visual presence at all events. As a small town Chief, he’s learning quickly how to deal with global issues at the local level. He’s an advocate for up-to date training, known for addressing community concerns immediately and recognizes the need to connect with young people through their own interests. Of The Northern Lights; Shining The Light on the Meth-edemic project, Chief Tim Sletten said, “This is the first thing I’ve ever seen that was created specifically for the kids.”

About the Watering Hole

The Watering Hole is police slang for a location cops go off-duty to blow off steam and talk about work and life.  Sometimes funny; sometimes serious; but, always interesting.

About the Host

Lieutenant Raymond E. Foster was a sworn member of the Los Angeles Police Department for 24 years.  He retired in 2003 at the rank of Lieutenant.  He holds a bachelor’s from the Union Institute and University in Criminal Justice Management and a Master’s Degree in Public Financial Management from California State University, Fullerton; and, has completed his doctoral course work. Raymond E. Foster has been a part-time lecturer at California State University, Fullerton and Fresno; and is currently a faculty advisor and lecturer with the Union Institute and University.  He has experience teaching upper division courses in law enforcement, public policy, law enforcement technology and leadership.  Raymond is an experienced author who has published numerous articles in a wide range of venues including magazines such as Government Technology, Mobile Government, Airborne Law Enforcement Magazine, and Police One.  He has appeared on the History Channel and radio programs in the United States and Europe as subject matter expert in technological applications in law enforcement.

Listen, call, join us at the Watering Hole.

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/LawEnforcement

Program Contact Information

Lieutenant Raymond E. Foster, LAPD (ret.), MPA

editor@police-writers.com

909.599.7530

This upcoming January 1,2009 will mark 4 years since my ex-wife and I got back together. Well, it was more like I had nowhere to go after eviction, all my money taken up by alcohol, drugs and various other vanities. She always told me I had a place to come if ever I found myself in a spot, and without telling the whole story of this certain spot, which would be long in the tooth, she also told me I could stay as long as I wanted with no pressure to reunite with her or any long term plans. For the first couple years we lived as friends as I struggled with my addictions and the mess my life had become and been for years.

It was good to be in a place where I felt safe, unpressured, and with my daughter again, to whom I had not been the best of fathers. It was an adjustment for all of us. At whatever point I don't recall, but Joyce (ex and soon to be wife again) found ourselves in a conversation about becoming a couple again. For years I had chased the elusive nature of love, and didn't believe in it anymore as I had come to understand it (I still don't). But I knew the person sitting beside me had been my best friend for years even though I didn't always recognize it, one who knew me better than anyone, one who would love me forever and always had, one who would never leave my side. It was through her eyes I saw what love really means, and from that day, in my heart I have tried to emulate her example. I am by nature a selfish prick, so it was and is still a struggle to put others before myself, but baby steps and one day at a time have steered me in the right direction. I'm a better man today than I was then.

And for me to say that about myself is a big deal.

However, as an addict, my biggest daily struggle is not as a father and husband, but to stay clean. The lurking scent of the streets and alleys I used to roam, the quick fixes they offered, still sit on my shoulders sometimes with talons in my flesh, trying to pull me back in. It is a war I wage every day. Part of my motivation in staying clean has been my desire at the age of 40 to finally be a real man, a real father, a real husband, a good son, a faithful brother. My family has played the biggest role in helping me keep my sobriety and sanity.

As previously mentioned in a post a few days ago, my wife and daughter are leaving for Florida for ten days this coming Thursday. This will leave me with the solitude I so love, but also leave me with a horde of temptations to deal with. I could allow the pointed poisonous claws of the streets to take me to places I know I should not go, and the longing will be tremendous because I will be alone, and I could revert to the old me for that "quick fix" without anyone knowing, without anyone for accountability.

With this in mind, I've set up a series of plans of accountability for the time the girls are away. My 2 brothers are going to be checking me with phone calls and visits, and as much as I'd like to think I'm so devious sometimes, I cannot fool them, they know me too well. They will see right through any diversion from the good path I am on now. I have a couple of home projects planned to keep me busy, and of course knowing I have to be at work every day will help, not just for the paycheck, but the security of employment, for if I were to slip into the welcoming arms of addictions pleasure, I could also lose my job. I've even taken a step I never thought I'd take and asked Joyce to call me every night while she is away and ask me a series of questions that require my honesty in what I'm doing with my time. For me, giving this kind of control to someone has never been an option, but in my quest to stay on this road to soul freedom, health and wellness of being, I've given up control. Let's see how it goes eh?

In conclusion, my main reason for writing such a long entry is to reach out once again. I ask you, my mindsay family, to keep me in your thoughts and prayers during this time. I don't care what religion you are, what name you give God, how you worship, how you pray, or whether or not you attend a church, synagogue, temple, or simply keep your faith a personal thing.

I ask for your prayers. I ask for your good thoughts. I need you.

I want to be the man I was meant to be. Now I'm on my way, I don't want anything to change. I've discovered it's much better here.

Love and Peace.

You can probably see I'm really struggling with words now... I just can't explain. This is about when I was at my dad's lying in bed and I thought about my old friends, etc how I miss a certain one and just cried my eyes out. I tried to rub the tears away and I wanted to hurt myself, and just make evrything go away but all I could do was stay paralysed in bed like I was about to explode...My entire body froze and i was tense and couldnt move with tears just gliding....

Feeling You Let Go

With writing as my last resort

To you, be this, my last report

status: damaged

heart: broken

mind: removed

I lie in bed

my head explodes

paralysed, frozen inside out

force keeps me, like a statue

binded by stone

I think of you and my heart

stops.

It can't beat

You've stopped it.

Heavy breathing

scares me

Who will hear?

No one, I hope

My wrist burns

my memories imply

"give in to him"

I am but stuck

like an icicle

holding on, barely grasping

falls to stab me

I stab me

I want to bleed for you

I melt in tears

I am a puddle on the floor

And you step on me

Tears splattered everywhere

rub them

make them go away

make me go away

I'm not here!

I'm not real!

You're not real!

none of this is real!

I live in a fake world

with a fake mind

and a fake heart

so let's pretend

you're still here

I'm here

We're here

And we never let go

Until I return to reality

nothing I can do

but watch you leave

and feel you letting go...

Today is my brother Hector's birthday, he's 48 years old and, at least for today, he is sober.  My brother is an alcoholic.  Generally, he is usually drunk rather than sober, but he has been trying harder to attend his AA meetings and there are briefs periods of time where he is the lovable, goofy brother that I remember from my childhood and not the lonely, depressed alcoholic man that I often see.  I like to imagine an alternate reality where my brother got the help he needed early on to deal with his depression (which I believe is the underlying cause for his alcoholism) and that instead of being a 48 year old man still living with our mother and unable to find a job, instead he is happily married to a wonderful woman who appreciates his sensitive artistic side and they have 2 kids and live in a cute little cottage where my brother makes a living as an artist. 

My brother had the cards stacked against him from the beginning.  I believe he had an undiagnosed reading disorder, and at the time he attended school, children just weren't given the help they needed.  They were called slow learners by the teachers, and stupid by the other kids.  The one thing that seemed to save my brother then was his out-going personality (he could make anyone laugh) and his artistic ability, so he had a lot of friends and he was generally well liked.  His teachers continued to promote him to the next grade up, so by the time he made it to high school he was functionally illiterate. 

I'm 9 years younger than my brother, I recall one day when he was around 16 and I was 7, and he just started grabbing books from a bookshelf and he handed them to me and just asked me to start reading.  I read through all of them, and I looked up at him when I was done, and though he never actually cried his eyes looked watery.  He smiled at me, and said he was very proud of me, and that he was so happy to know I was so smart and that I would never have to hear anyone tell me I was stupid.  I was too young to fully comprehend what was going on, but I just knew that I felt sad for him and that I loved him. 

One thing that made me proud of him though was his artwork.  Everyone that saw his work was in awe of his talent.  He could draw anything.  He loved drawing cars and I remember the designs he came up with seemed so futuristic and out of this world, but he was a visionary, because I see a lot of what he drew on the cars that are out today.  He also loved creating bizarre monsters and creatures.  The kind of stuff that you see on heavy metal albums and fantasy books, but his stuff was so much better.  But because of his reading problem he had little to no confidence in any of his abilities and he would always say, "I can't draw for a living, I can't even read, who would want my artwork."  He just didn't have enough faith in himself, regardless of what anyone told him. 

The real turning point in my brother's life happened on his 21st birthday.  He was going out for the night with his best friend Ray.  Ray was a great guy; handsome, sweet, a little shy and he was a good friend to my brother.  I think how the story goes, is that they were suppose to meet up with their other friends later that night, and in the meantime they decided they wanted to score some weed for the evening.  They walked around the corner to the local gang hangout (we lived in a real crappy neighborhood, but my brother and none of his friends were in any gangs) to buy some stuff.  They knew the guys in the gang well enough to stick around for a bit to bullshit and stuff, which is what they were doing when it happened.  A rival gang pulled up and did a driveby shooting.  Hector was fine.  Ray died in my brothers arms.  My brother has never recovered from that night, and I think in so many ways a big part of my brother's spirit died that day too. 

I mean he went on with life, as best he could.  He held a good job for many years, went out with his friends, enjoyed his art hobby, but he didn't date much and he often came home from work and planted himself in front of the tv and drank beer until it was time to go to sleep.  If anyone questioned him about his drinking he's always say the same thing, "As long as I can hold a job down, and can still draw, then what does it matter how much I drink."  Then one day he lost his job, it was the 80's and factory layoffs were commonplace.  His drinking increased, his depression became evident and his life just never turned around after that. 

I wish I could end this by saying things are great for him now, that he's in recovery and making progress, but I really can't give you that happy ending.  I'd love for my brother to make it to full recovery and stay sober for an extended period of time, but the odds are very much against him.  The day of his birthday is usually the hardest day for him to make it through without a drink, I can't recall a birthday were he wasn't drunk.  I'm not a praying type of person, but today I am praying, hoping, thinking, wanting that my brother will make it through the day without that drink.  Happy Birthday Hector, I love you.