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Spencer Quest’s Blog

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Exposed, But Fully Clothed

Filed under: Updates — SQ @ 1:27 am

If you have the patience to sit through the following audio file, you’ll understand what last night was all about.  It was a breakthrough moment for me. Thanks to all, especially Peter Donnelly (a man with crazy talent!), for allowing me to close out the season at the Mews.  Thanks also to Scott–out of the blue someone approaches me and offers me kindness and builds my confidence and asks for nothing in return.  Good karma, indeed. 

I spent most of Sunday night not sleeping.  Why?  Because the idea of doing ’something’ for the last night of the Mews’ Coffee House–a seasonal winter venue for locals–had me anxious.  I woke up singing the lyrics to the song I knew I would do.  And they wouldn’t leave my head.  I tried to focus, however, on the fact made clear to me by so many of my loved ones:  of course you can get up and sing–it’s really no big deal.

Again, listen to the clip and you’ll see where I was coming from. 

best,

spence

icon for podpress  The Last Coffee House of the season at the Mews: Download

Just an Update….

Filed under: Updates — SQ @ 12:16 am

Since I’ve been absent for so long, I won’t immediately dive into a fundraising drive.  That’ll be the next blog.  For now, I thought you deserved a glimpse of what’s been going on.  In the fan group I alluded to several things including broken bones. And it ain’t the bone you’re thinking of.

It was all a bit ironic: me coming into NYC in April, catching the ‘kick-off’ to the Braking the Cycle ride at a local Chelsea bar, being able to meet and then rehearse with David Drake (director) and Scott Cunningham (playing opposite me) for several days, watching the brother-in-law’s rescue pit-bull.  David kept saying, as I would describe the length of my bike rides and the possibility of riding from the Cape to Vermont over the summer, “BE CAREFUL!”  A logical suggestion, but it never crossed my mind that something could actually happen to prevent me from performing and fulfilling my obligations in a role. 

So I arrived back in Ptown with a day to call my own–the next had me doing a sideline cleaning job.  After 4 hours of scrubbing toilets, etc. , I carefully walked my bike out of the gravel driveway (as I always do) and mounted the bike in a standing position.  Freak accident.  I don’t know if it was that it was raining, the roads were sandy, or it was just fate.  I took a spill and landed on my hands.  No, I wasn’t wearing a helmet.  And yes, I understand now why it may be important.  They always say accidents happen close to home because our guard is down.  Got it.  I do. 

Long story short, finally saw the Dr after suffering through the weekend and realizing there was definitely something wrong.  Xrays showed a broken forearm on the right side, and while they didn’t pick up anything on the left wrist, it certainly felt as bad if not worse than the break.  Luckily, no separation in the break, so it didn’t need to be set or even wrapped at this point.  I’ve been managing for about 10 days of learning how to get by without my hands.  The healing is coming along, and I can finally drive although it takes two hands to turn the key in the ignition and I have to be extremely careful shifting.  The break is back at the elbow and any pressure on my palm has me jumping out of my skin. 

Anyway, I’m healing.  Learning lines.  Painting (gently).  I was able to get my spinning bike moved from a friends house to my deck, so thankfully I’ve been able to get some exercise other than walking.  God, I love my spinning bike.  I go to a different place when I’m on it.  And here, with it outside and in front of all my bird feeders, I’m  as happy as a lark. 

I’ll be heading back to NYC one last time this coming weekend to rehearse for the show.  We won’t get another chance until the NYers arrive in Ptown approximately two weeks before we open at the end of June.  More on that later.

So, that’s the scoop.  Abbreviated. 

 

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Alive, Well, and in a Parking Spot

Filed under: Updates — SQ @ 6:08 pm

First, let me thank you all for your patience as I took some time for myself these last three weeks. While initially it was easy to slip into vacation mode after dealing with the last family funeral/visits, etc., it was a little harder recently to force myself to stay away. From blogging, from posting, from emailing, etc. But I did it, and I’m glad I set those boundaries for myself. Because now I’m back, I’m better than I’ve been in I don’t know how long, and I’m ready to start this next chapter.

Of course the down side to not communicating for that long is that I want to catch you up on so much that has happened. But again I’ve learned to just ease off a little–catch my breath, enjoy the space I’m in, and offer up what I can when I can without all those old issues of pressure, expectations, guilt, and on and on.

Let’s start with this: I’m in NYC for just a few days. Arrived here this afternoon. I have to tell you this story because it’s just apropos to what I’ve been experiencing now that I’ve decided that living a life at peace is fundamentally more important than anything else. The plan was always to drive into the city–it’s the cheapest way to go, and because I know how to do the parking shuffle in the morning and my mornings were free, it was a non-issue. Until I spoke with Charles who happened to check the city parking site and told me that alternate street parking was to be suspended for Thursday and Friday because of the Orthodox holidays of Holy Thursday and Good Friday. I was immediately dismayed because I realized that my intention of parking at a school (free at 4pm) on Wednesday when I would arrive and then moving my car on Thursday as a part of the ’shuffle’ wasn’t possible. Most residents would already have their cars in place by Tuesday. Yes, it’s that crazy.

So even though I had the intention of shopping for a road bike for my charity ride while I was here, I figured I’d drive to New Haven and take the train. Cost would be around 60 bucks in a ticket and parking and that was certainly better than having to pay for parking in the city. And I wouldn’t spend endless hours looking for a free spot.

But as I was driving in this morning, I decided that I would find a spot. It would be right there waiting for me. It would be free, I’d save myself the cost of the train ticket and parking, cost of having to ship a bike to ptown rather than carry it with me, and I’d save time. I simply kept it focused in my head the entire trip–I remembered all those times when I found just the spot I needed without losing my temper or my cool. This is a little reminiscent of “The Secret,” and I make no apologies. Sometimes it just works. Positive thoughts bring about positive reactions and results.

At some point on the road today I made the commitment to myself to positively be a part of a larger whole. I caught myself in moments of road rage and I apologized. I tried to show everyone respect (there were a few who did not deserve it and I brushed them aside). I listened to my body–stop here before your bladder bursts–forget the clock and remember what it’ll be like looking for a parking space with a gallon of piss waiting for release. I listened to the radio–I belted and didn’t care who saw and laughed at me from another car. It was my day, my life, and my parking spot was going to be there.

For those of you with all the money in the world who can’t seem to find the significance in this process, please read between the lines. Yes, I’m frugal–sometimes to a fault. But I also don’t live beyond my means–something a few wealthy folks are facing in this downward spiraling real estate market. $60 buck means something to me. But learning how to be an effective part of a larger whole means more. Instead of railing against the world, I want to be a part of it. A positive part of it. And there’s nothing wrong with the notion that, if I spend 5 hours driving in my car and interact in positive affirming ways behind the wheel of 5000 pounds of glass and metal with other drivers, I may be rewarded with a parking spot.

It took me 10 minutes. I couldn’t have found a spot closer to my BF apartment. I turned a dozen or so corners following others who were obviously looking as well, but I kept my cool, and drove on. To my spot which was waiting for me. I had to do a double take as it was directly opposite a man flagging cars into his garage on 22nd. He just smiled at me as he saw me quickly back up—yup, that spot was waiting for me.

So it’s going to be a busy few days between dogsitting my niece (a beautiful rescued pitbull my brother-in-law has upstairs), rehearsing for this summer’s play, doing the publicity shots for the same production, and getting to meet some of the other riders in the Braking the Cycle ride. Tonight is the kick off party–a bonus I didn’t know was happening until last night. I’m also hoping to meet up with a fantastic photographer I met in Ft Lauderdale, Ryan Colford, with whom I tested. I’m hoping to completely redesign my website with his images besides using his stuff my for current headshot.

So all’s well—

and more is to come……

Monday, March 31, 2008

UNBELIEVABLE

Filed under: Updates — SQ @ 8:09 pm

So somewhere in the past few months–probably during an episode of major drug use as suggested by Mr. Lucas–the option to publish your comments was left to moderation.  Usually I get an email when comments are held for moderation.  Shit-I’ve literally gone through the past two months thinking that nothing I had written had prompted any comments!  Talk about an ego-check

Yes, even Mr. Lucas’ response to me (which I still point out was supposed to be an EMAIL, not a comment on a blog) was in here.  Apologies.  He’s not a liar.  He’s just as computer illiterate as I am. 

So apologies to all who have commented and have waited for me to moderate.  They are all on there now. 

My, some of you really need to read some other stuff other than my ramblings—especially in the tipping realm.  You obviously stayed at the BeaconLight and didn’t tip!  Cheap bastards. 

Thanks for your patience.

 

A Question From You, con’t

Filed under: Advice — SQ @ 7:37 pm

This is a continuation of the following blog: A Question From You

Here’s the original question:

My son is 23 (DON’T do the math). He got involved in crystal meth in high school, ended up spending a few years in jail, and should finish his parole in two months. He is extremely bright and has a wonder, quick wit. He also has relapsed over the past year. He resists 12-step programs, counseling, etc — says he now knows that he can’t control even moderate use. Do you have any insights, suggestions, etc. on the things to do to stay sober? I know that I have ZERO control over this and I have surrendered to that fact (in order to maintain my own sanity)

In the first part I discussed some nuts and bolts issues but left off suggesting there is a larger issue: purpose.

Without goals, objectives, purpose and a plan, we will continue to use.

What was always so frustrating to me was having this innate sense of knowing—knowing I have a purpose, a reason for being—and yet I couldn’t find it. There had been glimmers of hope along the way: realizing I am a teacher. But certainly not in a high school. Perhaps an educator? But certainly not in the most remote corner of the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont. And neither of these careers spoke to my soul or from my soul. They were cloaks I wore when I needed a job and needed to feel important. But even when I knew I was wearing the wrong cloak, I knew there was a deeper meaning and purpose behind my existence.

This sort of talk is difficult. It touches on spirituality and faith. But for me it has always been quite simple. I knew when I was in the flow and on the right path. And even if I realized it wasn’t THE path, at least I was on a path that enhanced my existence and experience. I could always ask myself: am I evolving? If not, then time to move on.

Enter Crystal Meth. As I said before, it is the proverbial “devil.” Because it plays to our insecurities, latches onto them and exploits them and in the same instance soothes you and coaxes you into a sense of false well-being, you can’t tell whether you are on the ‘right’ path or even if it’s a path at all. But we keep coming back to it because it provides a temporary state of euphoria unlike anything out there. For us, for gay men, it gives us sex like you can’t believe (and which you shouldn’t believe), but for your son, who I am assuming is straight, it gives him purpose. Meth gives a false sense of purpose. Even if that purpose is simple contentment. I am high, I am content, and that’s that. And here’s the real problem.

We are tricked into thinking that whatever we are doing at this given moment is okay. Even if we know we are doing nothing, it feels pretty good. But on a deeper level, we are tricked into thinking thoughts of grandeur, of thinking creatively, of planning our future which then keeps us happy and content in the moment but which doesn’t last beyond our high. Sure, it’s like a lot of other substances.

But Meth is a spider-web of deceit. Or it’s the spider itself. It makes you think you’re happy, makes you think it’s a friend you can occasionally turn to for pleasure, and before you know it, it’s all you can think about. But it’s most dangerous deceit is making you think you have a purpose and then doing everything in its power to prevent you from achieving it. The world looks brighter, there’s hope, there’s life and light at the end of this most current high. I can do anything!

But the spider, that devil, traps you in its sticky mire so that you are literally incapable of doing anything but going in circles. Un-stick this leg and that one gets stuck. Spend 8 hours cleaning your coffee maker. Better yet, spend 12 hours choosing the font for the business card you’d like to make but never will. Because you can’t finish anything. You can’t even choose a font. You can’t make any decision. Because you just go in circles and circles.

It’s the pattern I was in two Decembers ago while I was doing Naked Boys—I felt like I had a purpose and a mission: get my website up and running, create a community, a pseudo ‘porn with a soul’ pay-site. Before I knew it I had been tricked—I thought I had a purpose but this spider-devil wouldn’t let me near it. Eventually, the only answer was to kill myself so that I could get out of its grip.

So how do you help your son? Show him a world of possibilities and purpose outside of the world he has been deceived into believing. Find out what interests him, find out what he’s always been truly passionate about, and help him get there. Tell him that he can do anything, but that he needs to figure out what he loves in life—from there he can find meaning, purpose, and something to look forward to every day. And if his dreams are big, aspirations of which you can hardly conceive, tell him you’ll help him figure it out. Spend time on the internet, research options, believe in him. Even if you don’t. Believe in him. Show him you believe in him no questions asked. And when it comes down to him making a decision about his life and he needs your assistance—financial, for instance—make a contract that is utterly clear: you believe in his ability to follow through, to be clean, and you will accept nothing but honesty in return.

This may sound contradictory to what I previously wrote about tough love. But in that I was talking about being tough on behaviors. No different than training a dog. Sorry, but we’re all animals and need to be trained effectively. But now I’m talking about what makes us different from animals in terms of purpose…..you must unequivocally support his dreams whether you think they are attainable. Bring a reality check to the situation? Sure, but don’t be negative. You are helping him see that this life is worth living without drugs. There is much to do, to experience, to see, to feel—all without drugs. So help him discover his options.

He is good at something. Help him see that. Force him to see that. Drag him with you to some place he won’t want to go because deep down you know once he’s there it will breathe life into him. Show him what it means to be alive. Of course…that means you know yourself. Show by doing.

What else can I say?
Good luck my friend.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

HELP ME!

Filed under: Updates — SQ @ 2:56 pm

Dear Friends and Fans, (please forward this on to anyone you think can help!)

I’ve already been able to speak with or to write to some of you about my upcoming participation in the Braking the Cycle ride this September. If so, I’m sure you’ve personally heard my enthusiasm and excitement. For those of you who haven’t heard, several weeks after my mother, my BF, and I complete the Swim For Life here in Provincetown, I will be going out on my own to cover 275 miles on my bike. This benefit ride starts in Gettysburg, PA and ends in NYC and will be held on September 24-26.

Our mantra: 275 miles, 3 days, 1 destination–The End of AIDS.

The money collected will be going to The Center on this, its 25th anniversary. The Center is the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Community Center in NYC and has been at the forefront of providing services in the fight against AIDS. I know it may seem odd to be donating to an organization in a city where none of you even live, but I’m hoping you’ll do just that. Donate. Because I have been there and have used their services which go beyond just AIDS support. But right now, that is the objective and the focus. The fight against AIDS.

I have been openly gay since I was a junior in high school. I should have had more experiences dealing with AIDS than I did. I never even knew of anyone with HIV until I learned of my second cousins’ death from AIDS well over a decade ago. Committing to living in places like NYC and Provincetown, however, has broaden my perspective and experiences. Well, that and life itself.

This September I will tape Art Maharg’s name on my helmet because I should have gotten the chance to know him, my only gay relative. He was at the forefront of his career in the record industry and could have been a valuable mentor to me. A mentor of gay life. Yes, a mentor on how to deal with being gay and living a gay life could have saved me a lot of pain–everything I had to find out through self-discovery. So I will ride for him and for what I missed out on by not know him. For what we all missed out on by not having him with us right now.And I will ride for anyone else you would like me to. Just send me his/her name and there will be room somewhere on my helmet or body for this symbolic gesture.

I am asking you to make a generous donation. I’m asking for a starting donation of $50. What I’d really like is whatever you think you can give. But please give. While there is a $3500 minimum to ride, I am shooting for a larger goal. I believe the energy I will expend during this race and during the next 6 months of fundraising is worth whatever you feel capable of giving.

Here’s what I’m going to do for you for your $50.00 donation (please recognize the irony): A signed limited Edition Front/Back Lucas card. I’ve only got so many, and it’s a pretty good bet the rest were burned by Mr. Lucas. In order to make this happen, you will need to contact me at spencer@spencerquest.com after you’ve made your on-line donation giving me your mailing address. I will check the BrakingtheCycle website, confirm your donation, and send your signed picture off asap.

I am committing to raise $10,000 which means I need to raise over $1600/month. Ironically, that’s more than I make for a living right now. I know some of you can and will donate above and beyond. This isn’t just for Art and for me. It’s for all of us.

Please help me reach my goal with whatever you can. 

Go to www.brakingthecycle.com and click on the Donate button. Be sure to Donate for a specific rider, ME, Spencer Keasey, Rider 82.

It would be great if you commit early because I’m only going to get more obnoxious!

 

Monday, March 17, 2008

Life Lesson: How to Tip

Filed under: SOAP BOX — SQ @ 10:34 am

I’ve always divided people into two camps: those who have worked in the service industry and those who haven’t. Those who have will be able to tell you it is not only a humbling experience, it is a quick way to learn the character of other people. It’s a general fact that a good indicator of whether your first date sitting across from you is a compassionate person is how he tips the waiter. If he tips well, it could mean he either understands how to tip or he is simply generous. If he doesn’t tip well, it could mean he either doesn’t understand the rules, he is trying to make a point to the waiter that the service wasn’t acceptable, or he is cheap.

For all of you who have worked in the service industry and still don’t tip appropriately, shame on you. For all of you who have not worked in the service industry, here’s a primer:

If you have the money to spend on a dinner out, a haircut, or a night’s lodging, you should have the money to tip. Understand that before you commit to fulfilling your needs or wants, you will have an obligation to those serving you outside of what you pay for the food, lodging, haircut itself.

What you pay for those items (food, lodging, haircut, etc.) goes to the business. It is irrelevant whether you have paid thousands of dollars over the course of time to an establishment. Those providing your service (if not an owner) do not see that money or do not get that money.

Businesses in the service area pay minimal wages with the understanding that their clientele will provide gratuities to their servers.

Unless those in the service industry are unionized or working under a contract which determines higher wages/benefits, their livelihood depends on gratuities.

A gratuity is NON-NEGOTIABLE. Those of you receiving the service do not get the right to pick and choose when and how to tip. There are rules, and if you arbitrarily decide to change them in order to make a point or to simply to save yourself a few dollars, it is reprehensible.

Tipping 15% is the MINIMUM at a restaurant. You do not get to change that even if your server was an asshole. If you received a meal at your table, brought to you by a human being, you should tip 15%. Anything above and beyond that is a statement to the server that you enjoyed their service, you appreciated their service, and you want to recognize that. “Good” service at a restaurant should receive no less than 20%.

A 10% gratuity is appropriate for service for lodging.

It is appropriate to tip even for one night’s stay. Just because you only have one course at a restaurant, doesn’t mean you get away with not tipping. Again, if you have the money for lodging, you should have the money for the gratuity. Not tipping for one night of lodging is just being cheap and is manipulating the accepted rules for your own benefit. Shame on you.

Sometimes servers have the opportunity to give away things to their clients especially repeat customers. If a dessert arrives at the table which you didn’t order, you shouldn’t feel as though you MUST mentally add that to your bill when making your calculations. It was not a necessary part of the meal and was a gift. If, however, an entire meal was provided free of charge, you MUST tip from what you WOULD have paid, not what you actually paid. This is common sense.

The same applies to staying at a guest house. If you arrive at the door with four people and are provided accommodations for all 4 but only for the cost of 2, that is an enormous savings to you. You WOULD have had to pay that amount in order to stay for the night. It is not acceptable to then tip off what you actually paid. You tip off of what you would have paid for all four guests because the amount of service provided is based on 4 people–not just the two paying customers.

The customary notion is that you would tip above and beyond the normal 10% for all four guests because of the large savings you were given.

The last point would be to those of you with a sense of entitlement which for some reason makes you think you can pick and choose who among us, those in the service industry, gets your approval. Your dollars do not mean approval. It is a question of right or wrong, knowing or not knowing, following or not following rules of conduct. Leaving a gratuity isn’t a sign of your approval. You shouldn’t feel all warm inside as though you just donated to charity. It is what is expect when you receive service. It is separate and apart from friendship. Friends are still expected to tip. Not doing so is generally a slap in the face, a sign of condescension, and a very good indicator of your lacking common sense, decency, and compassion.

If you can’t afford the tip, don’t leave home.

 

 

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Charity

Filed under: Updates — SQ @ 7:01 am

While it’s not necessary to comment on the below, I feel like the least I can do is help the man in his personal quest for attention.  I’ll simply note that it was a friend of mine who emailed about Mr. Lucas responding to something he had read and not an email from Mr. Lucas himself.  Perhaps in his ire he forgot to send it to me.  Anyway, I just wanted to make sure his voice was heard on an issue that isn’t getting the same sort of coverage as his politics.  I figure he’d appreciate my help with the coverage and with reminding everyone that he is in fact a pornographer and not a politician. 

http://www.thesword.com/2008/03/lucas-fires-back-at-quests-fess.html

From LUCAS CALLS QUEST ALLEGATIONS ’MENTAL’ AND ‘CHEESY’ 

When we started asking stars about safer sex practices on set, we didn’t realize how much animosity was lurking below the surface. Spencer Quest, in particular, used it as a launching pad to discuss his experiences in the industry, as well as his crystal meth addiction, his off-set gang-bangs and his subsequent sero-conversion. While he acknowledges that he didn’t contract HIV on set, and that the industry didn’t get him addicted to meth, he claims they weren’t exactly helpful. Now, Michael Lucas is fighting back.

In an email to the Sword, Lucas said Quest’s claims “are blown out of his ass, totally tasteless and cheesy” and that Quest is “mentally ill, on drugs or both.” This afternoon, he forwarded us an email to Quest. Let the flames begin!

In a post two weeks ago on SpencerQuest.com, Quest, who had recently discovered he had HIV, recounts asking Michael to disclose his status to his scene partner:

While I insisted Titan inform my potential scene partner (which to their credit they did), Lucas told me he wouldn’t do the same. But I could. And I didn’t. The only person who knew of my HIV status while filming for Lucas was Michael himself.

To which Michael responds:

Spencer,

I stumbled upon your blog and I am quite shocked to read your ramblings. What exactly are you blaming me for? My policy was always known to everybody: I do not disclose my actor’s HIV status, as I believe that this is a very personal issue. You knew my position on that, as I have told you about it as well as discussed it on my blogs, public ads, and interviews. And, we all know how this virus can be transmitted, which is only by not using a condom, (and usually with the help of drugs). I, personally, had sex with you in a film, at least twice, knowing that you are HIV positive. Did I ever discriminate against you for that? And, you know that I am HIV negative. (And don’t get me wrong, I do not thing that I am corageous for having sex with HIV positive people. I think that it’s a normal human behavior). If you believe that you need to announce your status to your sex partners, then you should just do so; but, do not blame me or anyone else for your own actions. It also seems to me that you are accusing me of your drug problem, because, apparently you were not into the model and you’re saying here that the director of the scene was telling you to bring the energy level up. Are you implying that you were encouraged by us to do drugs? I mean how dare you accuse us of any wrong-doing? My company and I, personally, were extremely fair to you. You were the only model who received royalties for the film. My movie brought you the awards, etc. I think that this is incredibly low of you to publically blame me for your own irresponsibility in your your private life. I am incredibly disappointed. And, I would love to blame drugs on these insane blog postings of yours, since it sounds like you are still on them. And I hope that the real you will never stoop so low.

P.S. If I ever did break my own policy, it was the case when I did not test you on drugs, as I usually do with anyone who I suspect is high. Would I know you were using drugs anywhere around the shooting days, I would fire you on the spot.

I wish you all the best.

Michael Lucas

Saturday, March 15, 2008

A Question From You

Filed under: Advice — SQ @ 6:40 am

My son is 23 (DON’T do the math). He got involved in crystal meth in high school, ended up spending a few years in jail, and should finish his parole in two months. He is extremely bright and has a wonder, quick wit. He also has relapsed over the past year. He resists 12-step programs, counseling, etc — says he now knows that he can’t control even moderate use. Do you have any insights, suggestions, etc. on the things to do to stay sober? I know that I have ZERO control over this and I have surrendered to that fact (in order to maintain my own sanity)

Of course my initial concern is two-fold: first is with your welfare. I am glad you have come to the point of understanding your own limitations in regard to ‘control’-ing your son’s addiction. And it speaks volumes that you are at a point of protecting your own sanity. Living by example is perhaps the first step in helping your son; by showing how you have needs (your sanity, emotional well-being, etc) and are not willing to sacrifice them for this addiction, you are teaching a lesson I wished I had learned years ago. You are expressing self-love, self-worth, self-esteem, and rooted in your son’s addiction is a lack of one or more of these.

Second is with the given–this is just my opinion based on my experiences.

For me, the issues with guilt needed to be resolved before I could heal. First I had to deal with my mother’s guilt and my father’s guilt. Separate entities. My father I simply had to forgive. My mother–I had to tell her to quit laying the additional guilt trip on me by continuing to say to me, “I guess I wasn’t the best mother,” “I should have done this,” etc., etc. She didn’t understand that by saying those things, I suffered a worse guilt than the guilt of being an addict. So I stood there in the common room of the facility on the pay phone and said, “quit the guilt trip–I did this myself, this is about my addiction, not your mothering skills.” It doesn’t sound like you are at that sort of place, but I need to offer that up generally to let the parents/partners/children know that the addiction is the addicts.

Addicts own their addiction–no one else. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault. It was my addiction.

Also in terms of guilt, I had to accept the fact that I fucked up, that I wasn’t perfect, that I’d been a liar, a cheater, a thief, a manipulator. And that was okay. Because we were once those things doesn’t mean we must forever wear our scarlet letter. We can choose to change tomorrow, next year, or in the next minute. And we can fuck up again. And choose to change again. Sounding flaky? It could be if, as an addict, we make a game out of it with ourselves and with others. But for those who truly want to quit, it ALWAYS comes down to a matter of choice.

Addicts are human. We fuck up. We have choices: to forgive and to use or to not to use.

I also resisted 12-step programs and chose my rehab specifically because it wasn’t one. There seemed to be 3 types out there: 12-Step, Scientologist (those fuckers were manipulative and started brainwashing me on the first phone call–don’t fall for it), and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. Obviously, given the choice, I tried the last one, and perhaps here’s where your son can find some solace.

He is most likely right. He cannot control moderate use of crystal meth. I believe those who say they can are deluding themselves. I spent 3 years trying to convince myself that it was an option, that I should be strong enough to do so. And I’ve met countless people who say they’ve succeeded. Some in relationships, some individuals. But you tell me, if one of the partners has to keep it under lock and key, is that really control? If someone sets up a schedule of only doing it every other week, or…as the theory goes, if you can make it to 30 days, you’re not an addict—does that sound like control? Or self-delusion? What kind of person lives their life waiting for 30 days to go by to prove they’re not a meth addict? What happens the other 29 days of the month? I’m speaking specifically about meth. This doesn’t necessarily stand for other drugs, and I am of the mind set that I CAN control other things. I can control my drinking, but I choose NOT to drink VODKA because it is stronger than me. Sounding flaky again?

This is about what works for the individual not some blanket theory or practice. It’s about personal choice.

Cognitive Behavior Therapy (CBT) reminds us that the power is ours. It’s not external. I believe some 12 programs that don’t teach the essential point that “god” or our “higher power” is WITHIN us is doing their clients an injustice. For some, just mentioning “god” or “higher power” is a turn off and that’s okay. That’s why CBT works. Because it’s all about you. It’s about your mind. It’s about learning how to unravel, untwist, and sort through the thoughts and voices in your head and putting yourself back on the right track. And in reality, it’s quite simple.

So many self-help books talk about it, and I’ve read a ton. But nothing ever taught me to reprogram my thinking–thus freeing myself from a lifetime of demons and a history of dwelling on the past–like CBT. We have the ability to change. Wow. We have the ability to choose. Wow. And every time we put that pipe to our lips, we’re choosing to stay where we are. Plain and simple. It’s not the drug, it’s the addict’s choice. Somewhere inside that mind, there is a strength more powerful than the drug. It’s a matter of clearing out all the shit in your head, all those voices, all those twisted thoughts, to get to the point of accepting responsibility for being an addict. And then deciding to change.

Easier said than done. I left rehab knowing I’d use again. I really did want to change, or so I thought, so I convinced myself and all the others at the facility. But in reality, I continued to be the manipulator I had spent my life becoming. And I used again. For me, it was necessary, because I had to do it on my own out in the real world. Rehab isn’t the real world. I learned the skills I needed to use when the time finally would come to actually quit, but I had to quit out in the real world, with real temptations, with real triggers, with using friends, with drugs in my system. Only then would I know it was my choice and my choice alone. In other words, the power was all mine. I had the power and still have the power to make that choice. Today I’m choosing to stay clean.

But, here’s where you could start to make a difference. I was enabled. Because I’m such a damn good actor (what addict isn’t?) and manipulator, I learned how to use without people knowing. Or it was subtle enough that they wouldn’t dare ask. I don’t know if they either didn’t want to know the truth or were scared I would suddenly start using or nervous I’d get angry. The point is, no one CHALLENGED me. No, actually, my best friend finally did. What could I say? I was high, and still talked around the issue, that I was trying to quit, that I was getting ‘there.’ I was still playing the game, but I realized in her questioning me that at least one person wouldn’t be fooled. So I had to watch myself around this person, had to monitor myself. And while I may have succeeded in fooling her again, I began to accept that this was becoming a game, and I was becoming a person I no longer wanted to be.

In her confronting me in person, I began to see myself for what I was. If someone else had confronted me, I might have gotten angry. But it’s how the confrontation was done. It’s not to be done in anger but in love. And then you walk away. Had the people in my life said to me, “prove you’re not using or I walk,” I may have quit a little sooner. I may have realized that my game was over and I needed to quit.

Tough love, I suppose is what it’s called. I like what Bill Cosby says about children living at home–namely: they don’t pay rent, they are under my rules, and if I want to inspect their room, I’m going to. Take the door off the hinges if necessary. Addicts have the burden of proving they are not using when they live under someone else’s roof. It’s not the other way around. If an addict gets upset, it’s likely because you struck a nerve. Why? Well, because they are either using or thinking of it. Sure, there comes a time when trust must come into play, but initially—there shouldn’t be any. Don’t live with blinders on and don’t enable.

A job, having to pay rent, etc. No one gets a free ride or too much assistance because that only breeds additional dependency. Too much time on an addict’s hands just means more time thinking about the addiction.

But again, all of this has to do with the mental process that keeps us in our addiction. Untwist the thoughts and you can untwist the addictive behavior.

Suggestion: despite it’s completely hokey title, go to http://www.spencerquest.com/SQRecommends.htm and click on The Feeling Good Handbook. It was our text in Rehab. Who knows what sort of counseling your son would be receiving in prison, but if it was support that insists that he has no power of his addiction, then he needs a back-up.

I realize I haven’t given much. No list of to do’s and not to do’s. But perhaps somewhere in all of this you can find some help. I do want to cover one more issue, but for another blog. This is way too long as is.

The issue: purpose. Without goals, objectives, purpose and a plan, we will continue to use.

 

 

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

SAFE SEX? Part 10

Filed under: Safe Sex Series — SQ @ 6:33 am

[The Safe Sex series is meant to be read sequentially starting with Part 1. It is a story, my story in porn, and is the first time I have publically acknowledged my HIV status. It is meant to provide information only. It is my truth–which, despite attempts, cannot be disputed by anyone other than me. And I am doing just that: writing, disputing, learning, and hopefully teaching. The world of porn is not as safe as it should be or as safe as companies may want the public to think. And that is the point: to make the public think. And to think again. And only after getting all sides of the story, after hearing the various ‘truths’ from the players, to make informed decisions. “Silence” may not equal death anymore, but silence is still reprehensible, unethical, and unjust. This is my attempt to shatter my own.]

It’s unlikely for a porn star to be able to make a living entirely off of porn. I’ve heard rumors of how much this or that person, always an exclusive, is being paid by certain companies, but those performers are in a very small select group. Ultimately, one of my issues with Titan was that they refused to budge in any sort of contract negotiation. That sort of inflexibility simply reaffirmed what I had already started to believe despite their personal protestations: this was ultimately all about money and models/exclusives were a dime a dozen and could be replaced. So while I was criticized by this one performer mentioned earlier for being a part of the problem as an exclusive, I certainly wasn’t making a living as one. My contract was good for a period of time (a year) and was limited to a certain number of films (typically 4).

Some performers, non-exclusives, literally have to work their ass off in order to stay afloat. I remember watching Blake Harper explain in his ‘documentary’ that even at his most productive he needed to film upwards of 30 movies in a year to make a living. 30 movies? Yeah. That’s because at the point where I entered the biz, non-exclusives were only getting around $1000/scene. Give or take. I can assure you I was getting more than that, but I was also limited to only doing 4-5 movies per year. So what’s a guy to do?

The obvious: sink deeper into the sex trade by directly offering my assets to a paying customer.

It’s easy, it’s just sex, and the money could potentially be decent. In my mind, I never had a problem with this. There were those around me who were worried, thought this would be ‘below’ me, and asked, even pleaded for me not to consider it. But I wanted to. Because it was simply adding a price to what I had been asked to give away all my life. This was taking control of my sexuality in a way, just like the porn, that finally started to value what either had been taken from me at age 7 or asked from me throughout my adolescence by all of my ‘friends.’ I spent my high school years first fighting off and then simply resigning myself to giving it up because that’s what my friends wanted. Mostly my female friends at this point. I learned at a young age that friendship equaled sex. I was formatted that way, and thus when I entered adulthood, I chose to have few friends. Those I did have I likely slept with in a drunken state. I didn’t trust that people wanted anything but sex from me, and even if there was some deeper connection, I ultimately then wanted to give myself away physically as some token gesture. I convinced myself that sex was an almost necessary extension of my ‘energy’ and could be a positive experience for two people. So to take control of this, why not make people pay?

I also believed that despite my successes in life, if I was so damn good at this, at sex, why not work with that? Nothing else had brought me riches. I spent my adult life just getting by financially and yet because I knew how to manage money, I was content in realizing I wouldn’t have to ‘hook’ very often. And ultimately wasn’t this a smart way to ‘fix’ my sexual issues by bringing a monetary value to the sex I had in my personal life? Totally fucked up thinking, of course, because the same night after I had my first “John,” I immediately got on Manhunt, found some guys who were partying, and stayed there for 4 days.

I had left the set of Spy Quest feeling incredible–the work had been inspired. Well, at least my scene with Markus had been. There was no doubt in my mind he and I would get a nomination for that scene. I had scheduled an ‘appointment’ in San Fran which left me several days to kill beforehand. So I continued my drive, drove up to the Russian River on a soaking wet March weekend, found a gay resort and started wallowing. It was a depressing scene: off season, a wash out, no one around. But I realized the glass pipe (a gift from a PA friend who made them out of science lab test tubes) I was carrying had enough residual to get me a little high. That gave me the confidence to actually go sit at the bar to have a few drinks, which turned into more than a few, which turned into my opportunity to shine: karaoke! And shine, I did. If there’s one thing I’m confident about, it’s how well I sing when I’m drunk. Don’t get me wrong, I know I can croon, but when I have a drink or two or ten in me, all the inhibitions go and I can do wonders with that machine without slurring or sounding totally inebriated. And that gets me attention. The owner ended up sidling up to me, we flirted, he took me back to his room, I started crying over my ex, and the next thing I knew I woke up having obviously been fucked.. Nothing like a good drunken haze to make you forget where you are, what happened, who you are, etc. etc. And for me, this is where my inner critic started getting control and getting louder and louder.

My guilt was getting to me. I understand now how normal this is–especially in the process of grieving. The end of an 18 year relationship was nothing short of a death, a death I started to think I may never get over. What have I done? How selfish can I possibly be? I was still talking to my ex but those conversations were becoming more and more difficult because of the emotion they contained and the additional guilt they elicited. What kind of person just walks away from 18 years, goes into porn, is doing drugs, and is now about to start hooking? The battle started here, on my way back to SF to make my appointment. I rallied, forced myself forward, convinced myself that despite the hurt and anger, the death, the old relationship would evolve into something different.

And I needed to make some money.

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