I would like to attest, in the strongest possible terms, to the success I've had during my Life Repair. I am in no way implying that I'm completely better or anything of the sort. However, I am saying that I've pulled myself out of the abyss, and now I'm away from the edge. I will not teeter.

I handled my major present time problem, and for the first time since my—let's not mince words—would-be terminal drug addiction began, I feel like I have a chance. Better than that, I feel like if I continue to approach with an uptone attitude and keep trying very hard, I'm going to be alright; everything will soon be how I've made a postulate for it to be.

I'm on an exponentially improving route, which I haven't been able to say for years. I have gotten to the point where the things I rightfully believed could, and perhaps would, cause me to fall right back into the void from whence I came (despite my passion for the subject of Scientology), now have to request permission to put me at effect. Like I'm trapping the metaphorical demons and domesticating them.

Truly, I've been experiencing a substantial amount of improvement recently. It's almost hard to keep up with it all. I had an astronomical win the other day during a session at the end of my Life Repair and beginning of listing/nulling. In what couldn't have been more than a 10-minute session, I blew a whole lot--that is to say--90% of charge regarding my most inimical "trigger" (restimulator). This was the element that could essentially be the offramp back into active addiction, something I couldn't seem to let go of and was becoming painful and nearly impossible to deal with because everything reminded me of it.

I thought this constant restimulation would be my undoing and I would never be free of it. However, just as I have discovered through firsthand experience time and time again, dear reader, "it works if you work it." Everything finally blew away during this one astoundingly quick process. The finishing touches I suppose, but it was a 180. I describe the sensation as a duality: I think of the times I've tried to visibly prove myself macho despite my build and general attitude, by carrying something very, very heavy for quite a bit longer than is advisable. As soon as I get to a point where it's safe to drop the thing causing my body notable strain, it feels lighter, it is a relief, but the whole of me feels kind of heavy at the same time.

I went outside to have a cigarette, hear some music, and look at the winter sky, appreciating the beauty of the darkened dead trees against the pale and cloudy sky, and the duality therein. I had, up to that point, learned to avoid any music that reminded me of the element that was holding me back. But suddenly there was no problem. Whereas before, I could barely function surrounded by seemingly endless restimulators; now there was nothing there: no pain, no flashbacks, almost radio silence internally on the subject. Even when something caused a sadness inside, I could easily get it under my control at will. I realized what this was: the "major thing" had essentially been flattened.

I've still got a case. I've still got a drug case. I like sensations, but I don't want to live in psychological Haight-Ashbury forever, and I don't need to. I no longer feel like I'm "holding on for Dear Life" as much as I do "I'm defeating an Eldritch monster with laudable success." Anytime those rather foreign-feeling thoughts intrude my mind, locks, pictures of a past for which there should be no nostalgia, it's simple. I merely acknowledge it, and ultimately before calmly telling it to go away, I think at the graphic pictures of this kind of self-destruction on the track: "This is not an exit."

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted control over my own life and mind. I finally feel I have some. I'm on the correct path; what do you know! It happened to be the one less traveled. I will reiterate a sentiment I often express: I'm glad I became a Scientologist. The dominos fell into place the way they did for a reason, and despite all odds and significant pseudo-social pushback, I broke down the door and put out the destructive internal fire inside of me. I won't be tolerating any suppression from here on out, because dramatic as it may sound for me, it's life and death.

"Choose death?" Now, why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose something else. That's a wrap!

Case Supervisors and Auditors on this action: Jonathan Burke/John Nunez