Herbert Hilliard | HIV Support Community Forum

Letting Go of What Holds Me

Holding on. It is easy to let past grievances affect me. I have allowed people to hurt me before. I must not let these experiences make me hateful and resentful. But I must rise above this. I should not and can’t give them that much control over me. They are assigned to a horrid memory and that is where I should leave them.

It is foolish for me to carry them around with me day after day. I can’t undo my mistakes. Wishing that I had done it differently is a grand waste of time and energy. They are out of sight but not out of mind. I unfairly blame others for my bitterness. They have not harmed me and just want to live their lives without concern for me.

When I catch myself falling into this downward spiral of thinking, I try to redirect my thoughts. I focus on things that are uplifting and positive. I remind myself that I voluntarily played the fool for them. Since that was the case, I should not resent them. Whatever happened to me I did it to myself. They did not force me into behaving unwisely as I took that venture upon myself.

Accepting my responsibility is sound. Still, it does not ease the shame I feel for being so ridiculous. I get angry when the thought of them pops into my mind. I am not so much angry with them as I am with myself.

Life is much too short and much too fragile to be living it in an agitated state. The clear majority of people are not my enemies. The clear majority of people can care none to less about me. In a world where people are increasingly afraid of their own shadows, I should offer a refreshing perspective when encountered. I strive not to be an amalgamation of the entire crowd.

Maturity comes by learning from your living experiences. But, I now live as if I have learned nothing from the predicaments. I unwittingly placed myself in these situations during the past.

I make myself physically ill by holding onto things that should be let go of. I position myself as being unapproachable. My days and nights are alone and friendless. I allow resentments to influence me. I hate being around people and I don’t want to be alone.

I want a sweet darling girl to kiss and hug. I want to laugh and talk with her. I want to move and shake with her. Together, we ca make the day a blessing for her, me, and for others. But bitterness about my past antics keeps me from reaching out and touching. I feel disgraced and stupid, totally unworthy of a companion. I feel like viciously beating myself with myself until not an atom of me stays intact.

I must get over this. Life does not stand still for anyone. In a moment, the worms and the flies will know my inward parts. Any evidence of me will eventually all pass away. I multiply my past foolishness by giving that past domain in the current. I give the destroyers the thumbs-up to continue haunting me by hanging on to them.

I waste fleeting time on something that I can’t change. I know what I must do but to do it successfully on a twenty-four seven eludes me. I hate being this way. I want to change. Still, the memory of my idiocy is like a virus flowing through my veins.

Powers that cleanse and renew, come to me. Rinse my mind of the thoughts that impede me. These thoughts restrain me from living my life. Help me to mature and grow, to let go and move ahead. Strengthen me in my body, mind, and spirit. Allow me to reach out and touch others. Let me diffuse kindness and caring in my surroundings. This I ask, and this it shall be.

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I Don’t Want to be Alone and Lonely

RecentPosts / Herbert Hilliard

I Don’t Want to be Alone and Lonely.

Humans are encoded to be social creatures. It is grafted into our genes to have companionship. Preferring solitude is not the norm and this psychological characteristic usually has some underlying motive(s) behind it.

Touching and being touched in a wholesome manner brings out the best in a person. Feeling connected gives a person a sense of being. That being said, there are circumstances where preferring solitude is wise. It can help preserve one’s emotional stability. It may even protect one’s health.

Being alone and lonely is not attractive. But, this state is far better than living with the anxiety that the wrong companion brings. Existing with an incompatible companion is insanity that leads to a variety of negative consequences. This living environment brings no satisfaction, joy, nor calm into a person’s life.

It is a place where no one honestly wants to be. But it happens, and when it does, run for your life because that is what is a stake. One day leads to another. Each day has an array of heartaches, headaches, anguish, and distresses. These must be endured.

I know a particular idiot closely. He has placed himself into this disagreeable predicament more than once. The bizarre thing about him is that he knew full well on each occasion. He was unwittingly heading into quicksand. Knowing this was an error in judgment, instead of avoiding the quicksand, he willingly walked straight into it.

When he began sinking, he did not pull himself out of the mire. Instead, he did everything possible to make himself sink deeper and quicker.

I can’t fathom a name for this type of personality. It goes beyond the scope of reason and common sense. It is like a sickness that wants to get sicker. It involves having a mindset that is fatally stupid.

He finally extricated himself from the latest deplorable situation. He realized that he placed himself in such situations. He reached the conclusion that his best bet is to be alone.

He hates the consequences of solitude. Yet, he realizes he has a relentless propensity for chronically making bad choices and decisions. Thus, he has consigned himself to separation.

I know this dimwit intimately. I grieve for him. Still, I feel no sympathy for him. He is getting exactly what he deserves. A fool and his foolishness will reap his foolish rewards. No one needs to trouble themselves over him. He is not worthy of the energy it will take to do this.

Reeling within the turbulent grip of stormy nights. Tossed by tempestuous days, it is far better to be alone. It is preferable to solitude than to exist in turmoil, confusion, mistrust, and chaos. Misery can find it’s very own company and insanity can hide beneath the bed sheets.

Today is here, and in the twinkling of the eye, today is no more. Peace and rest come to those who seek it. They are the ones who know how to appreciate it once they find it.

It is hard to be alone and lonely, but a negative choice is far, far worse than going solo.

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Finding Light When Memories Feel Dark

RecentPosts / Herbert Hilliard

What to do if you don’t have any good memories? Realize that you have a good memory or two embedded someplace in your life. These life experiences may have a very brief duration. They may have come at lengthy intervals. But they are there. Be mindful that your memories are a product of your thinking. Your thinking is articulated by how you live your life. Not seeing any good part of your life logically leads to depression and even worst.

You build your memories, so it’s up to you as what type of memories they are. Even with health problems and other difficulties that are out of your control you have the mastery of your thinking. I know that this sounds all sweet and cuddly and that you have heard this over and over again before. I have heard this too.

This is why I repeat this saying to myself as a reminder. I do this when I can only see darkness in my memories and start belittling myself. It’s easy to lose what you have if you do not appreciate it. The lines of my life are not all straight and dimly lit there are shadows and colors throughout them.

What to do if you don’t have any good memories? If a person has lived to be age twelve, they probably have at least one good memory. It’s hard to imagine otherwise. Everyone has at least one good memory. Just as an example, this person can relish that memory. This good memory is undoubtedly deeply submerged within the mind by other life experiences, but it is there.

Your smiling to someone can create a good memory. When they smile back, it gives you a good feeling for that moment. The sound of a bird singing can be delightful. Our sister planet, the Moon, looks wondrous in the day or night sky. Good memories of your past are not hard to find if you want to find them. I must remind myself of this when I want to weep and mourn for myself.

As you can imagine, changing your set way of thinking is a difficult task. You are changing the chemical composition and electrical circuits in your brain when you are transforming your way of thinking. Some people try to do this by the use of certain medications. Others by engaging in a belief system that is greater than them.

While others want to use brute force to change their thinking habits and patterns. Whatever works for you, that is what works for you. I reach out to a source that is greater than me. It helps me find those many hidden positives that have occurred during my life.

Presently my success rate by using this approach is dismal. The issue is not the source. It is because I am a terror unto myself. I want to change the way that I think and yet I resist this change at the same time. Like a seed that will not germinate, I allow the life-giving waters of thought purification to have no effect. They do not influence me.

This is not because my current way of thinking is my comfort zone. On the contrary, my current view of myself and the world is fractured and shattered. It highlights and underlines everything that I dislike about myself and shroud that into a world view.

One thing that has prevented me from tumbling into the deep end of self-loathing is my ability to laugh. I can make fun of myself. I recognize my faults and shortcomings and make an effort to correct them. This is an LTE (Long Term Evolution) process that will take as long as it takes to finish it. I fall on my face daily, get up, and continue the process.

Hopefully, I have learned something valuable each time that I fall that I can use to achieve my goal. I am willing to improve myself. My effort to do so is a good memory. I can feed on this memory from the day or hour before. Good memories are not hard to find if you are willing to find them. Yet, finding those good memories is just the first step. Recognizing them as part of my life’s experiences is next. They exist alongside the not so good memories that I focus on.

Once those good memories are found, I must diligently pitch my tent over them. This is so that the negative electrical charges in my brain are equally balanced with positive ones. There must be a balance. Having too much of a good thing is not necessarily good. It may hinder personal growth because you are using only one pool of your life experiences to pull from.

The electrical impulses migrate, opening new channels and closing old ones. This process changes the chemistry in my brain as well. I hope that all this electrical and chemical modifying will refresh the inner person. This refreshment is needed because the inner person has become stagnant in thinking. I shall see.

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There is No Making Up for It

RecentPosts / Herbert Hilliard

There is no making up for It. There are certain things that have been said and done in the past that can’t be made up for. I spend time with the elderly and ailing children. I volunteer to help the needy and the homeless. I deprive myself of certain indulgences and luxuries. I do all of this and more. I try to make amends for something that I have said and done in the past. But the past is written and there is no changing it.

Yes, do all of the above mentioned. It is good to be considerate and helpful to others. Still, do not expect these labors to be an eraser for past deeds. I have said it, or I have done it, or both, and that is the way it is forever. Each day of physical life is its own unique chalkboard that we write for ourselves.

We make entries as the day progresses and at the end of the day our log is finished and done. We can review our log to see what we can gain from it. We can apply that insight to the next day. We can’t remove anything from it.

No one is perfect and mistakes will be made. Yet, some avoidable things are said and done. This happens if my thinking is mature and not restricted to “Me”, “I”, “Mine”, “Myself”, and the like. It is natural to focus on the most important things first. It is me. This is how we not only survive but also excel.

We must examine ourselves within the broader canvas of existence. This includes the panorama of other people, the ecosystem of the Earth, and all of Earth’s many other life forms. This perspective helps us to be fully mature in our thinking. I said it, or I did it, or both. It’s in the record book of life and can’t be blotted out by remorse nor misplaced good intentions.

I wish that I had not said that. And I wish that I had not done this. I will get change at the checkout counter. I will drop it into the donation cup atop the counter as I leave. This is good. Our donations are much needed. Nevertheless, do not consider the misdeeds of the past to be purified by this generous, worthwhile act.

I have touched someone’s life in a negative way either accidentally or purposefully. I have said it, or I have done it, or both. Someone is wearing a physical and emotional scar that I have purposely inflicted upon them. This is my guilt and shame. It refuses to leave my thoughts. The past’s solidity clinches it firmly, making change impossible.

Good deeds will not clean the slate of my past childish behaviors because the past is unalterable. My loss of self-control is a personality deficit. I must learn to live with it. I must make sure it does not interfere with my daily life. Hopefully, we have reviewed our chalkboard and have highlighted words and actions that we want to avoid repeating. I conduct this self-evaluation often, and guess what, I do and say the very same things over again.

This vacillating behavior is much more than simply not learning from the past. It is a nest of damaged brain cells that desperately needs healing. The heart(mind) is active and willing to make amends for past offenses but the past is uncompromising. The chalkboard of our living is engraved in permanent stone. We have allowed our wrongdoing to mark us with a seal of regrets and ineffective penance. Our afterglow is unbecoming and our nature is pinned against a wobbly cartwheel.

There is no making up for It. Our days are numbered and the count is swiftly running out. We would like to start physical life anew. We want to use the knowledge and understanding gained from this venture. We hope to avoid saying the things we have said in the past during this new birth. We also aim not to repeat past actions. It is that we will say the same things once more. We will also repeat the same actions if given a blank sheet.

We have been measured out and calculated beyond the molecular level. Our very essence has been formulated and numbered to a precision point. There is no fault-tolerance in the equation of what makes us, us. There is no making up for it. We have said it, or we have done it, or both, and that is that. The Monkey is on our back. The banana is in our mouth. Hence, we must learn to live peaceably with them.

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One Mistake, A Life Derailed

RecentPosts / Herbert Hilliard

The one mistake. One night, I had been struggling with my drug addiction for a few years. I decided to break into a school in Tampa, Florida. I was living there at the time. I was looking for something to steal. I needed money to buy a hit.

After getting onto the school grounds, I broke into a classroom via one of its windows. Upon entering the classroom, I saw a television mounted on the wall. It was the only thing that may be of value. Using a chair, I disconnected the television from its wall mounts without any problem.

With television in hand, I decided not to go back through the window with the set. Instead, I opened the classroom door. Then, I walked out into the hallway. As I scanned both ends of the hallway. I saw cameras mounted in certain spots close to the ceiling.

I knew I was being recorded. I didn’t care about it. I figured I would be long gone before the police arrived on the scene.

I took my time leaving the premises. It wasn’t because I was feeling confident. It was because I was numb from drug use. I reached one of the gates leading out of the building structure. A security guard met me, holding a gun in hand. He was on one side of the gate and I was on the other.

My first instinct was to run. Instead, I obeyed his instructions. I sat the television down and got face down on the pavement. I did as he told me to do because I just did not feel like running.

I worked as a day laborer during the day using all of my pay to buy my drug of choice. I had very little sleep and even less to eat. I was in no physical or mental shape. I couldn’t make a break for it when I encountered that security guard on the other side of the gate. He unlocked the gate and entered, handcuffed me and then told me to stand to my feet.

Once on my feet, he asked me if I had any weapons on me. I told him that I had a small pocketknife in my pocket, which he removed. Soon afterward a police car arrived on the scene, and I was taken to jail.

When I went before the judge, I heard my charges. It was like I was hearing a recap of one of Jesse James’s escapades. The security guard had exaggerated his report of the incident. He did this to make himself shine like a determined Texas Ranger. It was as if he had just captured one of America’s most wanted.

Even so, I was placed on probation and released in the middle of the night. This, of course, was a felony and also the first time that I’d ever been arrested. This one drug driven mistake in judgment now haunts me relentlessly.

Some years later after completing a six months’ drug rehab program I became clean and sober. Thankfully, I have remained clean and sober for many years. I prefer not to reveal the exact number because at the moment I am age sensitive. Sobriety did not and has not erased that felony from my record.

That one charge feels like a nail driven into the back of my neck. This happens each time I apply for a good-paying job in my field (Computer troubleshooting and repair). It has also kept me in the reject bin for all other non-computer related employment that pays well. These are jobs that you can feel good about going to every day.

It feels great to be clean and sober. My decision to use drugs changed the entire course of my life in a most unfruitful and unproductive way. My decision to steal has kept me in bondage significantly beyond my original jail sentence.

One bad decision and a lifetime sentence. A criminal record that can’t be expunged waits at the end of every job application. It is ready to turn my hopes to dust. It keeps me at the poverty level.

Yet I do not surrender. I know that I will be refused the employment opportunity once a background check is undertaken. I hope for a system error that will allow me to prove myself. I want to show that I can be an asset to my employer. I fill out applications, hoping for the best and expecting the norm.

The choices that I have made so far in my life have damaged me almost beyond repair. I decided to be a thief. Because of this choice, so many precious years of my life have been stolen away from me. Days, weeks, months, and years of life do not come with a refund.

There is only one opportunity to make it good within this physical sphere of realities. If you choose to do drugs, be ready to suffer the consequences of your actions. If you choose to steal, you must be ready to suffer the consequences of your actions. One way or another you are going to get it.

There is no such thing as getting away unscathed. The life-slayer waits at the end of a bad choice. It will destroy your hopes, dreams, goals, and future. Your rap sheet lurks in the background. It waits silently for you to try upward mobility. Then it can zoom face-front and deflate you.

But I have done this to myself. I have leaped upon my own neck and have strangled the crap out of my career ambitions and goals. I have created my own stumbling blocks by the choices and decisions that I have made. I have doomed my life to being unfulfilled and a heavy burden upon itself.

I have given the Grim Reaper my flesh and bones considerably beyond the appointed time of my terrestrial demise. I have done this to myself. I did not take command and control of myself. Instead, I commissioned my life and well-being to be grafted by cravings and passions. These are earmarked for my absolute destruction.

The end of me is at hand. The custom-built has been broken and slayed by the butchers thinking. The assassin has chosen himself for the next kill. The bullet was shot from the chamber the very instant that the muck and mire was conceived. The murderer has justly murdered himself. Finished. Done.

Feel free to read my autobiography “Fatally Pathetic: The Story of an Ill-fated Conception” at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00U7YWVC4

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