An odd title I might say but the closest to my justification of my present situation. Let me tell you a bit about my past and just lay bare some things and see what turns up. A lot of my inspiration I have found in my own actions of taking control of my life and working on getting out of the ditch I dug for myself. Also my wife for showing me what it really means to be a good person, not just in heart but in all ways. And to Shannon for doing what he has for the community and putting us where we stand now. So shall we begin?

My name is Jason Sand, I was born 4/5/78. My mom, dad, and younger brother were all born on the 4th of different months, maybe this is clue one :). I was born in Pasadena, Texas, a year and a half later moved to Glenrock, Wyoming and began the first evolution of my childhood.

My mother and father were constantly at each other's neck and at that time I don't think either of them were ready or suited to the situation they had put themselves in. I have vivid memories of my mom's poodles ripped to pieces by the neighbor's dog, memories of me and dad riding on a motorcycle and crashing, memories of puking up Shasta, memories of mom skinning the 6 foot rattle snake she killed, memories of us leaving. A lot of my childhood has been lost in a haze of self-lies that even I began to believe. As I get closer to who I am though, having sobered up and started reclaiming my life, I find that a lot of my childhood had a huge impact on how I see the world. I was raised very outdoors. I was given a lot of freedom as a child and always had a huge drive to find, see, and do things beyond what I had ever conceived. I was a dreamer, always thinking up great things that I believed to be possible, but could never be. To this day I am still that way. Forever working out cosmic interpretations that have no earthly reality to them.

My mom left my Dad a few times, even married him twice. Then came Dan, then the apartments. I cracked my skull at six, thought I could levitate. Later in my life I learned this was more related to spiritual travel and actually had nothing to do with actual levitation. I remember long nights revisited with my father where he told me about Eckankar and how he use to watch me as a child giggling as I bounced about the room yet still remained bundled in my blankets. I remember falling off the balcony while trying to take this into reality. I can't remember how far I really fell, when you're a kid things seem a lot higher. If the fall was far or not, funny thing is that all I did was lose my breath and sat stunned for about a whole day while my mom worried. Nothing came about it until a few years later when they learned that the waves or some such in my ear were not correct. What this had to pertain with I can't remember, I just remember having to see some doctor about it until it was taken care of. It is supposedly fixed now but who knows. My brother and me always slammed our fingers in the door and such. We were your typical love hate relationship that all siblings seem to share.

A quick rendition of some events up to the age of 9: I dealt with molestation that to this day makes me wonder where my life would of gone if it had not happened. Drank a pint of apple schnapps out of the cupboard, was a lover of snakes and frogs, and caught many, cut brothers eye open with a shovel, brother cut my leg open with a rock to the bone, got wisdom teeth pulled, hung out with only girls till I met Danny, then they moved, little brother is a vandal, I broke into houses to look at people's stuff, never took anything. My dogs were killers of cats, and were put to sleep, I cried forever. I was always playing in the sewer across the street and following it out to the river. I remember always being a traveler and having a heart born of the wind.

Nine, I moved to Hawthorne, Nevada. While in school I was a kid who was too smart and pissed on the playground and ate live minnows. Caught lizards, tortured spiders. It was also at this time I was starting to have some after-shocks of problems when I was younger. I started doing things to myself that to this day I try not to remember. Shortly after moved to Winnemucca, Nevada and then things took shape.

I still was the weird kid, WAY too smart for my level but parents wouldn't advance me. Turned 10. I use to go out into the desert for a whole weekend and mom never worried. I knew how to survive the environments, parents taught me well. Summer came, stayed out in the desert for a week at a time, digging tunnels for no apparent reason, making Forts to hide things, collected Junk, ate rabbits I killed with the 22 rifle of my 3rd dad that I was allowed to use. Then we moved to town.

I was one of the Outside kids that played with the unpopular girls, Junior high. I was the kid who walked the track, vandalized houses, was willing to do anything crazy and wild. Shaved playboy bunnies and the letters COW in my hair and spiked one side. Still top of the class but always daydreaming and playing D&D. Started running away for short periods to outlying towns. Friends were gamers. At fourteen we went to Montana. Trouble. Instantly branded Satanic due to drawings and Odd speeches I gave when talking. I later learned this was what is to be expected of small towns in Montana. Started smoking and drugs, Already drank but now I had Acid and speed, Tried to slit my wrists. Got beat up quite often. I was that "Creepy" kid. Fished a lot, went on long treks into the woods alone. Hated parents.

Moved back to Nevada. At the time, being at that stage of pushing away authority figures, my mom became the epiphany of all our problems. I was in and out of house. At 16 I got a job at McDonald's, went fine for some time till family problems got bad and I tried to nail my hand to the wall with a nail gun out of morbid curiosity, and an odd feeling of being God. Luckily I flinched and managed to avoid serious damage and have just a small scar to show for the stupidity of youth. I was Shooting up speed by 17 but luckily this was a passing fancy that soon left me well away from syringes. Unfortunately I took my drug use quite a bit further. Drove car to California and left it and hitchhiked back. Got sent home, parents let me leave. I dropped out of school officially. I think one reason I got away with as much as I did, is the fact I kept up with school. I think for them the most important thing they were worried about was my schooling, as long as I was following that they couldn't say much. It was dropping out that hit them the hardest. I had straight A's accept I had dropped down to only 4 classes a day because I had gone to an alternative school and finished my whole junior year in 5 months. I was ahead of the game then I dropped out. Passed GED. Got a job in Texas and left. Grandparents gave me the ultimatum to leave. I wasn't the grandkid they remembered. I went back to Nevada. At about this point my life took a nasty turn. I was focused on making my life as bad as possible by now. I was really unsure of who and what I was. So I felt destroying my self-image would cure that. If I didn't know who I was, I may as well be a self-created nightmare. I found myself sleeping out in the cold under bridges, getting beaten and harassed by local kids. I remember nights of being doused with gas in drunken stupors. I remember all sorts of badgering. At this point I was totally convinced I was the lie I had told myself. I dwelled on my own confusion and took to heart my own hurt and loneliness. I was determined to become something no one would forget. Being left to yourself and the ugliness of others can bring out an odd sense of self-megalomania.

Hit the Road, Lived all over, slept under many bridges, did lots of drugs, saw many amazing things. Many people died, killed, robbed, me robbing people. Wild concerts, Many overdoses, sickness, lice, filth, sorrow, happiness in wasting away, JAIL. I had hit rock bottom in a way I could never imagine. I saw me doing things to get by that just turn my stomach. I was every poster-child I could conceive. I saw something demeaning and wrong and I went for it. I was a good person, but I was afraid of the implications of the fact I may not be living the life that was me, so I ran faster. I wish so badly I had just opened my eyes and accepted the fact of who I was.

Many things happened that I left out. Many stories need not told. I cleaned up, got back on speed but cleaned up nonetheless. Then the delusions started. Where am I going and Why do I do it? I finally found the answer. Though I was never living a hard life I believed I was. I fed myself the belief: The Hard Road Is The Road Most Learned. It teaches you to live life to its fullest, shows how to survive and succeed the hard way so that all else is easy. That is not necessarily true, but it's how I viewed things in my narrow scope of things. Now all that time I thought I was taking the hard path, but if anything I was taking the easiest one known. It was getting out of my ditch and walking away from my sins, starting over the life I had cast away. The hard part was becoming the person I was to begin with, and getting away from my own lies. The hardest part of life is living by the standards and morals you set before yourself. It's knowing what is morally right and how to deal with the things that aren't. There is no gray area when it comes to right and wrong. I also needed to reclaim myself. I started over. I cleansed myself of what I had done and began fresh. This time I had passion, I had inspiration. I was ready to take on what I had started and do it right this time. I began to see what it really meant to be dedicated to the self, the body, and the spirit that feeds us all. I took a picture of myself with all piercings out and few tattoos hidden.

I really was Happy now. Things were turning my way. I moved to Spokane, got a job (I still have this job). I thought I was doing better, but if anything it was around this point I lost myself more than ever. It's only now that I have come to these realizations. I have learned so much since then and gotten so much further. Where I went from here was not the direction I thought it was.

I went through a lot of drug experimentation and natural highs. I stayed awake for ungodly amounts of time with only drugs and work to fool me of sleep. I fell way out of touch of reality and my newfound focus. What I thought was a good start was that, only in the wrong direction. I was spending my time taking mental medications and trying out various berries and vegetation. How I kept my job in all this stupidity I will never know. I was only on the scrounge for food and money. I lived off virtually nothing after I had spent my fill on junk food and crap. I spent all I had on good times and frivolous crap. The only thing I did that was good was taking in street kids and helping where I could. But all that didn't matter because if anything I was setting a bad example and making it look fun. I put others before me, but only because I didn't know how to treat myself. I was still fresh in my skin and never let myself get truly comfortable. I did help turn kids life's around, but I think more of it had to do with the fact they were seeing a horrible excuse of humanity and didn't want to find themselves in the same shoes. Yeah I had a caring heart, but what was I really caring for? I strove towards sobriety but somewhere along the way I lost focus and I made the biggest mistake of my life when I started experimenting with mind-altering drugs. I took it to limits that were never meant to be broken. I brought my sanity to its edge and beyond. I was throwing away everything you shouldn't. Yeah, I told myself I was having fun and learning insight. But what I was doing was destroying myself. I was becoming nothing more than an example of what it's like to give up.

I was pretty lost by this point. Things came about with work and I found myself in a pretty critical point. It was time to make a choice.

My job was shutting down and relocating. I got the opportunity to move with it and took it. I knew at this point that what I was living could not continue. It was after I moved that I managed to sober up. I got away from everyone, and all influences. I didn't seek it out. I started doing what I should of started way before. I have a lot of memories and things to share. But now I find nothing more than shame in them. Many sites seen, Many things done. It was time to start living and becoming a proper person. By now my ears are at 3/4" and 7/8" why did I start? The bigger the better. Them Indians were on to something. Then I started the Neck tattooing, removed all my little jewelry, shrank my Labret from 00 gauge to 4 for decency purposes. My septum is at 0 now. I was seen as a fairly peculiar and interesting person. I spent my first few weeks trying to find people I could relate to and found myself at a church of all things. It is Christian but far from conventional. I found so much strength there, that I must attribute it for helping me get control of my life. In late April, I had turned 21 and got My facial tattoos. My ex-roommate had a lot of facial and is even on BME. He enlightened me to the separation, and the stripping of the physical self and focus of the inner mind that it brought. I never truly understood what he went through. I found so much more than I could ever imagine in it. What I found the most though was comfortableness. I feel more sure of who I am. What I never could have foreseen was the social implications. It gets so hard going out now. People seem to lose all sense of manners and respect. You become something to be gawked at and no longer a normal person. What is oddly the hardest is when people don't say anything nor do they seem to need to. It's strange when you get so use to adverse reaction, that regular responses become foreign. I have had my job for nearly 4 years and have become very stable in my job. My job has accepted me for my abilities and given me the freedom to be what I am. They show to me that it doesn't matter, not the other way around. I show parents and children that you don't have to be a drug addict or a rock star to look like this, though I wonder if they are ever truly convinced. People just can't seem to accept the fact you can live a regular life when you're like this.

My facial tattoos were my first step in reclaiming myself from society and my own delusions. I have been sober for nearly 2 years now. Yes I drink on occasions, but only recreationally and I see no harm in taking a bit of comfort in drink as long as it's taken in much moderation. I still get leery of stares, but that's only because I no longer am using drugs as a crutch. I am more stable in myself and that is what means the most to me.

I am accepted within the community and have found a place for myself at church. About a year ago I met my wife through BME and my life has become so much fuller. Through my wife I have learned just how much I wasn't who I thought I was. Frances reminds that there is more to the world than me. Lately I have fallen away from volunteering, but only because I need to take time for me and my wife. It's time we start living lives for ourselves and worry about us before taking on the world's worries. We are fast on our way to becoming active with the Church Of Body Modification and hope we can bring added support to this important movement. I have gone through a small bit of modification in the grand scheme of things. Me and my wife have become a lot more fluent in what we are doing to and for each other modification wise and finding true love and meaning behind it all. People need to look at their actions and see that they don't just affect them but everyone around them.

Good things are just that and go a long ways. Good will always pay you back in the end. Bad things are learning experiences. What goes around comes around. Traumatic moments help shape us, but leave some of the ugliest scars you can ever imagine. Many things will never go away, they may or may not soften with time. Negativity is just the opposite side of the coin. It is in that, that you should see where it will take you. One side takes you one way and the other does the same. You may think what you're doing isn't bad to you, but is it to others? Will it really do for you what you think?

I have spent a good portion of my life exploring spirituality. You have to have faith in something, even if it is just yourself that you believe in. It all gets you somewhere; it just depends on where you want to go with your life and spirituality. There is a greater meaning out there. You have to look beyond the earthly trappings and see just where what you're doing is taking you. You have to know where you're going before you can choose a path to take.

Did I make a point? Does it really matter?

email me at:

Cork ......[email protected]

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