Can You See Me Up Here?

This tear-stained memoir is two books within one. It is a scorchingly honest and vulnerable portrayal of an opiate addict finally coming to terms with the enormity of his devastating addiction. At the same time, it is a roller-coasting, stomach-flipping travel story of his globetrotting adventures that are recreated here in crisp technicolor detail.

At its essence, it examines the universal sense of the eternally yearning condition of the human soul; that tugging wanderlust and open-eyed wonderment that resides within us all.

At turns either laugh-out-loud funny or bawl-your-eyeballs-out sad, every feeling in the human spectrum is wrought out in this unique and unforgettable literary experience.

The story begins one gray morning when the author, a 43-year-old man, finally comes to stark terms with his heroin addiction. Having been careful to never look directly into the mirror during his addiction, Steven finally screws up the courage to take a long appraising look at the collateral damage of a five-year opiate addiction. Rather than the reflection of the person he has enjoyed being most of his life, Steven is crushed to see a curiously waxen and zombie-like creature peering back at him with sad, sunken eyes.

He has become a total stranger to himself.

In this reeling moment of profound clarity, the iron fortress of deniability he has carefully constructed around his mind suddenly explodes. Through the settling dust and splattering blood, he can finally see that he is walking a razor-thin tightrope between life and death. And has been for a long time.

Although he doesn’t recognize his reflection, he decides that he is going to perform an extraordinary favor. He is going to attempt to save this dazed stranger’s life and deliver him safely and soundly back to humanity.

Realizing that his very existence is on the line, Steve smashes his phone so he cannot reach out to his dealer. He turns off all the lights, closes the curtains and lays down in bed to await the inevitable sweaty meat hooks of cold turkey withdrawals.

When Hell does arrive, his entire body slowly turns into an angry glowing coal of steely pain. The hurt is everywhere. His hair hurts. Even his very thoughts throb in pain. As Steve begins to vomit and shudder his way through three unimaginably long days, he realizes that the only thing to keep him sane is his memories.

Thus begins a seventy-two-hour contemplation of a most unordinary life.

Shining a flashlight into his mind, he twirls open the lock to his dusty old memory bank and fashions his memories into a life raft of sorts. The author clings onto this small bobbing cork of collective remembrances in the infinite yawning ocean of his mind.

Can he hold on to himself amongst the frothy waves of withdrawals that threaten to swallow him whole?

Take the wild journey along with the author as he reflects upon his uproarious wanderings around the world.

Witness the author as he undergoes an existential crisis and comes out to the other end with not only a newfound appreciation for life but also re-discovers hope. Perhaps; even true self-love.

You will laugh, you will cry, and there is an 87% chance you will vomit right along with Steve as you embark on this bumpy journey with him. You may find yourself cheering for the flawed author as he relearns how to live the opiate-free existence that most people take for granted.

The opiate epidemic in America is tearing apart the fabric of our society. Everyone's lives have either been directly or indirectly affected by this horrible scourge that isn't going away anytime soon. The author's sincere hope is that the reader will walk away from this book with a profound and sympathetic understanding that opiate addicts are not bad people, but rather, good people who have made bad decisions.