I want to work hard to try to live outside the coronavirus bubble at least a few hours a day. While much of the information about the pandemic is crucial news that we need to stay on top of, we have to also remember that we have a life to live, and like anything else, we shouldn’t feed into only the negativity that is going on around us.

We have to take it seriously. However we must not get so caught up in it, that we forget that life still has blessings for us, every single day.

The simple things in life, should not take a backseat to all the pandemonium that seems to be going on all around us. Because maybe, just maybe those “simple” things, are not really so simple after all. They are anything but simple.

Lately I think more about my sobriety than normal. It seems because I am counting the blessings more than ever since so many of those blessings relate to that.

I share insight with those around me about how thankful I really am that I am not stuck in a dark and scary world right now trying to manage a severe heroin addiction, at the same time that there is a lockdown, quarantine going on.

The idea of trying to manage that, is absolutely frightening. Because managing that addiction even on the most perfect day, was usually damn near impossible. It was a repeating nightmare. There was a time where I never imagined I would be in the luxury of having to deal with a worldwide problem while I was sober. I never even thought I would get sober again.

Sometimes I have to ask myself over and over again, if my terrible history of drug addiction to every drug under the sun was not all one massive blessing. A total unique way for God to teach me about the appreciation of life, and the loved ones around me. A way to learn how to love others, and how to love myself.

I am not really having a hard time right now dealing with this unreal time in life. I just play the tapes back in my mind continuously, and at times I have to catch myself taking a second guess, asking myself, “wait a minute, am I really living a life of recovery right now? Why wait a minute, yes I am.”

Hell, if I was able to get through that, then this pandemic quarantine is a walk in the park for me. Of course a walk that is done socially distant from others.

Michael Patanella

is a Trenton, New Jersey Author, Publisher, Columnist, Editor, Advocate, and recovering addict, covering topics of mental health, addiction, sobriety, mindfulness, self-help, faith, spirituality, Smart Recovery, social advocacy, and countless other nonfiction topics. His articles, publications, memoirs, and stories are geared towards being a voice for the voiceless. Hoping to reach others out there still struggling.

Thoughts, Coronavirus, Addiction was originally published in Today's Story on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I want this to be no more than a simple message to all the people out there aspiring to be authors or writers of some sort. For anyone who just spends their days just thinking about it, just turn that dream into a beautiful reality. One that makes such major changes in your lives, that writing ends up becoming something that goes through each of our days, with as much need as breathing.

Take writing to levels that for the longest time, you never imagined any potential in happening. I would say the key to my own success came when writing was something that I kept a hundred percent real. There was no lies in my articles, never any fiction in my stories. When I took the lead a couple years ago to chase this writing and challenge myself every single day, I made a vow to myself that my words would follow the non fiction role, and never write down one word that could contribute towards a lie or even an embellishment.

You have to challenge not only yourself but you also have to challenge the world around you. Choose the toughest of topics, write about things that the politically correct consider taboo, cover yourself, and all your fears, and vulnerabilities.

Expose your weakness, in a way so you can build it back up. Make the world your witness. As a way to be accountable to one self. Don’t make yourself look bad, but also never hold back the darkness. Use your mistakes as stories to help others avoid suffering. Make your pain a lesson learned to other people still out there sick. Reach one life every single day, and with that one, you can spark another brain.

So for anyone considering writing, wake up early tomorrow, and start your first day. As a new author, a memoir keeper, a voice for the voiceless. Start by writing the first thoughts that you have. Then write about what hurts you, what mistakes you have made, and what things have you done to others, that make you ashamed of yourself. Leave your vulnerabilities at the door. Don’t sugarcoat your story. Just tell it like it is.

Two year later, 500 publication in, I’m still going strong, and saving myself

by Michael Patanella

Michael Patanella

is a Trenton, New Jersey Author, Publisher, Columnist, Editor, Advocate, and recovering addict, covering topics of mental health, addiction, sobriety, mindfulness, self-help, faith, spirituality, Smart Recovery, social advocacy, and countless other nonfiction topics. His articles, publications, memoirs, and stories are geared towards being a voice for the voiceless. Hoping to reach others out there still struggling.

For Those Considering Writing was originally published in Today's Story on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

The entire experience has created a vulnerability and self consciousness in myself. In ways I’ve never felt before. I have lived the struggle, and I have worked very hard for years on that type of see-saw style way of living. I have experienced healing and self improvement in ways I never felt possible.

I want to bring attention and focus to the fact that I had to dig extremely deep from within, and from underneath. I would never had been able to find the courage if I hadn’t done that digging.

I describe it as my act of finally grasping God’s hand. He had been reaching for me for the entire time, however I needed an internal awakening before I could realize that Faith’s been there the entire time.

To follow through, I had to leave my vulnerability at the door. I finally chose to give back, and to share my reality, and to reach someone out there, as lost as I was. We pass by the faces everyday of those still suffering. But it’s a suffering in silence, that we don’t see.

Each day I learn a bit more on how to thoroughly present my guilts, shames and regrets of long ago, and show that it took years of work. Yet I’ve still been unable to totally let go.

It is not easy, and it’s quite difficult to know where to start when we’re talking about a full decade of opportunities, friendships, relationships, careers, trust, success and self respect all thrown away.

I swear to it for life, that the greatest feeling a man can feel and experience is legitimate, solid redemption. It’s a feeling that great, because it’s a feeling built on a total rebuilding of burned bridges, trust, and most difficulty, a rebuilding of not only self, but of an entire being.

The gift of being given a second chance to be a civilized human being is something not to be taken lightly. Because most never even get that second chance.

I’ve been given life twice by God. It’s his plan and mine, to use lessons learned in the first life, to build a second life so great, that it’s something I never ever imagined I would get a chance at.

To All Who Have Suffered was originally published in Today's Story on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

*This is by no means intended to glorify the subject at hand, nor is this meant to be War Stories. This is just Brutal Honesty. And a life or death warning. Think twice before you choose to skim or not read.*

It is just so scary and sad to sit here and think about all the horrific things I have involved myself in through all the years of my bad times. I have had a lot of Sobriety time, but the times of relapsing seemed to literally have a much stronger power then Sobriety (believe it or not).

Thinking about the city of Trenton, I have realized for a Heroin addict, it is very dangerous being in that city.

It is literally the Devil’s playground. It is a very sad situation. For those who play, never seem to play long.

Trenton Heroin is very cheap, very potent, and easier to get than a bottle of liquor. The business of Heroin is organized. The availability is so abundant, that no matter how much police you throw on the fire, the results only become equal to putting one drop of water onto a burning towering inferno.

The business is just too powerful, too organized, too protected, and too in demand. I hear of someone local, overdosing, and dying every single day. There are a few dozen “brands” of Heroin available on the Trenton streets, at any given time.

There are bags of Heroin, each coming stamped with their own label. The stamp colors can vary from red, to blue, black, or purple. The stamp names can literally be anything, whether related to Current events, Local trends, Politics.

For instance…..

I’ve seen red stamp “DonaldTrump” label. Another red stamp called “Overdose.” Also a purple stamp “Kevin Hart.” As well as also a black stamp “Batman.” It hit the streets when the movie was new. Also a purple stamp called “It.” For the Stephen Kings book & movie.

I have seen hundreds of stamps in Trenton’s 8 square miles.

Us dope fiends would get a choice, just like choosing a drink, like selecting Coke or Pepsi.So organized, so convenient, but also….so sick, so ashamed, so disgusting, so evil.

I again mention, how cheap the prices are, and how scary it is. And for reasons I’m not sure, the prices have gone down approximately 110% in the past 13 years.

If we keep picking the shit up, we are gonna die. I would hate to admit this, but if there were no negative consequences, I would had never quit. But the negative consequences have brought me so close to death, that to use again, would make me inhuman, not only not caring about myself, but not caring about my loved ones either.

Dear Lord, Thank you for one more day sober. Let’s repeat tomorrow.

Heroin Avenue was originally published in Today's Story on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Reader Discretion Advised & Warned

Opiate abuse has robbed us of a lot.

A lot of successes, happiness, etc etc. Addiction has also robbed family and friends plenty of wonderful things as well. It is not a disease just about and involving oneself. It affects so many, that it is probably hard to go down the line, and see where its influences stop.

It touches each person so differently, and it can stick to a person, or persons. With a strength unmoveable. It can go from generation, to generation, friend, to friend, to associate, to stranger.

The effects literally can be on a road to infinity. With my life, and probably most other addicts, one of the biggest things the ones around me lost was trust. But, well, I guess if I were faced with ME, I certainly would not trust me either. So, I really do not have a right to be angry, or be impatient with a demand for forgiveness.

Just does not work that way. Just like love can’t be forced, you also cannot force forgiveness.

Sitting here, clear headed, I am just trying so hard to remain grateful. Grateful for the moment. This moment I am in now. A moment with no noise, no chaos, no drugs, no related conflict. One important thing that a life of addiction did give me, is the ability to learn how to gain, and appreciate, and feel a sense of accomplishment.

The fact that I have, or had any amount of Sobriety time is a damn miracle, and it shows I have the ability to accomplish good things. Accomplish the impossible. I have dodged so many bullets, and not always in the literal sense either. It goes way deeper than an actual gun. I really doubt that I can dodge many more. I cant dodge anymore in either the explosive type, or the bullets related to health scares, long term medical issues, and overdoses.

My biggest disappointment that I can bring to this world, to my people, and to myself, is killing myself. I am not suicidal. But living an active life of addiction is suicide.

I have a responsibility to God, Myself, and to my loved ones,and that’s for me not to die in a manner that is reckless or premature.

In the old days, I used to make something positive out of my day to day life, which in turn lead to longer term constructive success.

Even though my most productive and positive times were upwards of 2 decades ago, I do feel that I can take a past of stealing, lying, almost dying, and living shitty, to mold a future foundation that is solid, and sound. I have enough scars inside, and out, that make statements in themselves.

I am blessed now, finally knowing, that I am watched over by God, and I know that in my worst times he was there, making sure I survived, even if just barely. He lead me through the worst, gifting me with the strength needed to creep out of that darkness, and embrace miraculous lessons. I saw none of God’s work in those dark days. It took time living back in the light, to see what I needed to see.

Disgusted with what was.

Diary Of The Raw & Gritty was originally published in Today's Story on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

*Reader Discretion Advised.*

At the end of the day, it most certainly requires not only the words of a person’s BLOOD Family to make an autobiography. A life story. A non fiction documentary. Something that’s GUT WRENCHING,SOMETHING THAT ALMOST VIOLENTLY PULLS AT THE HEARTSTRINGS;

LIFE & DEATH STORY OF URGENCY.

This last chance idea would be more than just another “ol pipe dream fantasy of mine.” It just can’t & won’t go anywhere without my loved and closest ones STRONG help. Help Physically, emotionally, & mentally. With tears in my eyes, im asking, you to please walk in my shoes on this journey.

Let’s use the damage I’ve done to myself, and the incredible pain I caused you all, to help someone.

Let’s turn it around. Make none of it in Vain.

Open to the world what I and my loved ones been feeling & experiencing upward of close to 2 decades. Let’s make the results of pure hell something of success and beauty. Without getting sidetracked on a somewhat fork in the road; please be assured, this is my last chance.

Its OUR last chance to make this project of humanity such an incredible reality. And this all goes way beyond the “reassurance” that loved ones are so sincere in giving. Yes i know people Love me. Yes i know that some are sincerely proud to have me as a friend. Yes i know many do not think im a failure & i believe that you believe yourselves. But I’m the only one who knows me better than anyone know me.

I know best.

I live with the VOID WITHIN.

I know that my story has the ability to help tens, maybe hundreds of thousands. I’m not looking to become a millionaire. If I ever would ask for financial Support, it would not be in order for me to get handouts to go on a gambling spree or spend on ounces of coke & dope. To all of you, and to myself, its time to realize that its time we’re losing.

Time to NOT sit back and idly Watch a terrible thing evolve and grow strength.

That “thing” my people is “WASTED TALENT. “

Through the examples I’ve set, we’ve learned that Wasted Talent is a negatively progressive, chronic, relapsing condition. A positive idea literally gets placed into my hands, only to be thrown away. I believe that the saddest thing in Mankind is Wasted Talent.

I want to motivate a movement not to exploit a victim of Wasted Talent but instead to EXPOSE Talent….Give it a chance to shine. I can’t do it alone.

Please, Please HELP me. I have lived with the emptiness, loneliness, & shameful feeling of Wasted Talent.

I have become addicted to REDEMPTION.

Wasted Talent; An Addict’s Plea For Help was originally published in Today's Story on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

*Reader Discretion Advised.*

At the end of the day, it most certainly requires not only the words of a person's BLOOD Family to make an autobiography. A life story. A non fiction documentary. Something that’s GUT WRENCHING,SOMETHING THAT ALMOST VIOLENTLY PULLS AT THE HEARTSTRINGS;

LIFE & DEATH STORY OF URGENCY.

This last chance idea would be more than just another “ol pipe dream fantasy of mine.” It just can't & won't go anywhere without my loved and closest ones STRONG help. Help Physically, emotionally, & mentally. With tears in my eyes, im asking, you to please walk in my shoes on this journey.

Let’s use the damage I've done to myself, and the incredible pain I caused you all, to help someone.

Let's turn it around. Make none of it in Vain.

Open to the world what I and my loved ones been feeling & experiencing upward of close to 2 decades. Let’s make the results of pure hell something of success and beauty. Without getting sidetracked on a somewhat fork in the road; please be assured, this is my last chance.

Its OUR last chance to make this project of humanity such an incredible reality. And this all goes way beyond the “reassurance” that loved ones are so sincere in giving. Yes i know people Love me. Yes i know that some are sincerely proud to have me as a friend. Yes i know many do not think im a failure & i believe that you believe yourselves. But I’m the only one who knows me better than anyone know me.

I know best.

I live with the VOID WITHIN.

I know that my story has the ability to help tens, maybe hundreds of thousands. I’m not looking to become a millionaire. If I ever would ask for financial Support, it would not be in order for me to get handouts to go on a gambling spree or spend on ounces of coke & dope. To all of you, and to myself, its time to realize that its time we’re losing.

Time to NOT sit back and idly Watch a terrible thing evolve and grow strength.

That “thing” my people is “WASTED TALENT. “

Through the examples I’ve set, we’ve learned that Wasted Talent is a negatively progressive, chronic, relapsing condition. A positive idea literally gets placed into my hands, only to be thrown away. I believe that the saddest thing in Mankind is Wasted Talent.

I want to motivate a movement not to exploit a victim of Wasted Talent but instead to EXPOSE Talent….Give it a chance to shine. I can't do it alone.

Please, Please HELP me. I have lived with the emptiness, loneliness, & shameful feeling of Wasted Talent.

I have become addicted to REDEMPTION.

Wasted Talent; An Addict's Plea For Help was originally published in Today's Story on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

*Reader Discretion Advised.*

I actually didn’t have much desire to even write today. I still decided to take a seat at the ol’ desktop and see what words my fingers can come up with. Although my brain feels lazy.

I know there are always ridiculous amounts of words in my mind. As for feelings, well, there are probably about a Quadrillion feelings going on, inside me.

I have some words on today’s Opiate Crisis. Opiates can be pure evil. Heroin specifically, took a terrible toll on my life, as well as my loved ones, family, friends, co workers, Employers, etc etc.

The first time I ever tried the drug, it was the most amazing, incredible feelings I knew I would ever feel.

Deep down, I also knew that it was the first and last time I would ever feel such a feeling again. I should had been smart enough to know, that we even if we chase a drug for eternity…..…..We will still never get the first experience a second time. I should had known that with a feeling so amazing, and so easy to get, that it had to literally be the work of the devil.

Within 5 seconds, I’d sold my soul.

I did it a second day, a third day, a week, 2 weeks, and on and on and on.

It was just a “fun thing to do every night” and it was no big deal. I happened to have the money for it, and had a pretty girl with the connections, so, life was perfect.

Until that day, I am not sure exactly when, but I had woken up with some kind of mysterious “flu.”

I think I was in denial of what the illness really was, because I don’t recall ever thinking to myself that I was DOPE SICK for the first time. Also, I do remember telling myself, that I should not try to get any Heroin since I was sick.

I figured abusing illicit drugs was not a smart thing to do, if I had an illness.

That “flu” kept me out of work a few days. I was quickly getting bored at home. I had after all had found a new habit that was a great cure for boredom so I went and got me some dope. I sniffed a tiny bit, BOOM, a miracle cure, my flu was gone.That moment, back in 2005 was the moment I had seen the truth, and realized I was now dependent on HEROIN.

A dependence that would quickly, like the speed of light turn into a full blown addiction (fyi dependence and addiction are 2 different things, I will be writing an article on it in the near future).

I still had very little knowledge in opiate addiction.

I did not realize that I could had probably gotten through that first withdrawal fairly easy, compared to the thousands of much more horrific ones I had had since. I took the NOT SO easy way out, and moving forward, I knew that I would be now using Heroin everyday.

That is the opening to gates of hell that would show me true Hell over and over again, and on and off since that horrible awakening in 2005.

It brings me to another subject, and that is the modern day of paranoia about opiates, and how doctors are improperly cutting patients off of opiate scripts that some have been on for months or years.

First, some patients medically, and scientifically NEED opiate pain medications. Those who live with extreme pain daily.

With no other methods that can come nearly close to improving a quality of life. Terminal Cancer, Aids, Fractured backs, necks, Surgery recovery, etc etc.

Now doctors think they are being so proactive with the present day opiate crisis, when they are actually being very irresponsible. Maybe if they had been proactive years ago. Maybe they would not had prescribed Oxycontin for headaches, twisted ankles, or broken pinkies.

And now, it is incorrect to even simply cut off those minor cases. It’s time to slowly, over many months do tiny tapers, Doc.

Time to do your job, time to not ruin the same quality of life that you are ruining by stopping opiates in the extreme pain cases.

When you cut off anyone, you are absolutely sending them, (might as well be telling them) to the streets to pick up Heroin. The opiate that is the end of the line for opiates. 250% cheaper, and much stronger than most prescribed narcotics.

We are all adults, and we make choices, so I am not putting all the blame on Doctors.

I just want to expose some truth.

I want my audience to know that Doctors nowadays are not heroes for quickly cutting off opiate scripts, and at times dumping patients.

It is irresponsible, and a lot of times, it just adds fuel to the current flames of Opiate Addiction. These patients are scared,

Doctors, they’re frightened; they need more than ever.

A new medical conditions exists. It is time to treat it.

Destruction That Heroin Promises was originally published in Today's Story on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.