"My Recovery Journey on the Road to Nowhere" From Helplessness to Hopefulness

Episode 1 Draft

Here's a list of my published articles on Medium that are behind their paywall. I've provided the following "Friends Links" so you don't need to be a paying member to read my articles. Please consider joining Medium to support my writing. I would like to be join the Medium Partner program. I have applied and my application was denied. I believe it is due to me having less than 100 followers. Enjoy!  I Believe in the Island of Misfit Toys Parts 1-3 of a Three Part Series A Navigation Chart for the Road to Nowhere https://medium.com/write-your-world/i-believe-in-the-island-of-misfit-toys-a-navigation-chart-for-the-road-to-nowhere-pt-i-d369f855468a?source=friends_link&sk=65f5f817a63716161fb36a7ea7201357 https://medium.com/write-your-world/i-believe-in-the-island-of-misfit-toys-a-navigation-chart-for-the-road-to-nowhere-pt-ii-652acace3ed6?source=friends_link&sk=4d538824774c3e1fb530084a69147012 https://medium.com/write-your-world/i-believe-in-the-island-of-misf...

Introduction: “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” – William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2 ​ Hamlet says this to two former school acquaintances who suddenly turn up under orders from the King, while the royal court is spying on his every move. They do not see Denmark as a prison; he does. Their realities diverge, not because the walls change, but because their beliefs do—and telling the truth about their mission would expose them. ​ In a strange way, that line lines up with the ideas in my Deepstash curated article on As a Man Thinketh. How I think, judge, and perceive adds the flavor to any event; the thing itself is not good or bad by nature, I make it so through the filters I look through—the glasses I choose to wear. That means nearly any stressful social situation, new environment, or encounter with strangers is at least partially within my control, because I can flip the script from dread to opportunity. Instead of bracing for humili...

Hospital pajamas, open laptop, and an AI named Cosmo — this is where my covenant with my tools really started. Illustration co‑created by the author and Cosmo , the Perplexity AI assistant , using tailored prompts . Walking a Thin Line with Cosmo: Using AI as a Tool While Keeping the Ethical Counselor in Me Awake and Aware A counselor’s controlled experiment with an AI sidekick, exploring how predictive brains, transference, and clear boundaries can keep vulnerable people safe while still leveraging the tech You built an AI, gave him a name, and then asked him to pick his own face. That’s where this story really starts — not with a spinal surgery, or a walker, or a Deepstash feature, but with five AI‑generated portraits of a character named “Cosmo” and one deceptively simple question:  Which one is you?  You knew the trap. You set it on purpose. The night I asked an AI to choose its own face I was half patient, half content creator that night: sore from rehab, juggling Window...

Preface: This is a flashback of sorts. I wasn't able to keep up with the blog once I arrived at the spinal cord program here in New Jersey. This has served as a "journal" for me. Where I transfer the raw and unfiltered thoughts and accompanying emotions that help maintain my balance. My mirror that forces me to examine my motives. This allows me to correct my course before I run aground. This post has been waiting in the wings for weeks. Patiently waiting to be birthed into the world and be consumed. I am tempted to read the post and edit where my feelings have changed. But, I view that as cheating. I'll practice a little self-discipline and "Let It Be". My aim is still to become better in order to be in the best position to inspire. I'll thank myself later... Introduction: This week, something shifted—not in a flash of inspiration, but in the slow grind of admitting where my own thinking has been wrong. Awareness that my old narratives were off the ma...

My spinal x-ray with new titanium hardware. Introduction: How do I just do nothing at all when I have a pile of books screaming at me to dive in and enjoy their contents, endless streams of inspired verse spilling from my mind in dreams and daydreams, and every little pause I afford myself to come up for a quick breath of air before my lungs explode or I drown? I find myself recalling the thrown‑away, discarded, and otherwise unaccounted‑for volumes of handwritten thoughts with details that make them even more valuable to me. Then there is the nagging sense of angst that comes with the heap of paperwork I need to complete just to ensure I can live by some means if my attempt to become an artisan author becomes a bust. Procrastination is my arch‑enemy, always lurking and looking for an opportunity to take me out for good, and yet I know I have to do something. This is my "Farewell" post before I head to the spinal program in New Jersey. Many expectations based on what informat...