Mike Cooper
“My name is Mike Cooper. I was born in 1949 and 70 years old. I’m flat lined with a heart attack ten years ago and have two stents in my heart! I am wearing a Medical alert bracelet on left wrist. On my right I’m wearing recycled beads – cleaning waste plastic from the oceans.
I am self-employed and using bacteria to reduce grease in the drains as well as NZ made and designed wool used mainly inside air filters to eliminate grease in the atmosphere in commercial kitchens.
I’m committed both in my business and my private life to protecting our precious and fragile environment.
Kia Kaha NZ”
John
“I am a father of three: 20, 9 & 8 who’s known to have a very busy schedule. In the past, I have shown people that everything in my life is fine on the surface, when in reality I have battled with depression, chronic alcoholism and gambling addictions which lead me down a path of self destruction. I have like many people tried and failed to combat the lifestyle of pain. There is a lot more to add, however I can say I am still here trying, haven’t given up on life, making better life decisions, wanting to live, not just exist. That is the bare truth.”
Alex
“I hated school. I had a teacher named Mr Anaru. He didn’t understand me.. why I couldn’t stop moving why I was always “overly excited”.
My mother, my brother and my sister were physically and psychologically abused by my father until we were saved by my “Miru” family and my Apelu family.
Mr Anaru placed me in the corner with no learning material for the majority of my primary school years at Dominion Rd Primary school. No kids wanted to play with me. Not even my brother.
I fucking hated school.
1 father, 1 brother, 1 sister, 1 mom
“YOU WAIT TILL YOU GET HOME BOY!”
My father was sick. He looked me in the eyes and said to me: “You don’t even look like me! Your mom must have fucked your uncle Whipper! Look at you!.” but he would always contradict himself by saying “remember. I made you, I can destroy you!”
I remained still, quiet, and thought ‘why dad?.. Why did you say this?’
1 brother, 1 sister, 1 mom
Tears in my eyes, hands clasped together. My brother laughed at me as I begged god for the beatings to stop. (I haven’t prayed in front of anyone except my friend Sarah since.)
My mom came home and the beatings stopped.
Mom saved me.
I then sat in my room listening to my mom gasping for air as my father strangled her.
1 sister, 1 mother.
My sister laughed at me running away from her when my father gave her his belt to “teach me”.
1 mother.
At age 7, I would run in front of West Auckland traffic in hopes the cars would “save me”
I said to mom: “I feel like I wasn’t supposed to be born.”
She said to me.. “shut up and stop thinking like that.. you don’t ever say that!”
1 mother.
The scars have held power over me until I turned thirty this year.
I’ve burned so many bridges because I chose to ignore my “numbness” and accept my “weaknesses” and my instabilities in this life.. I’ve used people who have loved me. I’ve stolen money out of my moms wallet. I’ve cheated on women and used them for purely nothing but my own pleasure.
At the bottom of my well of darkness..
My mom sat there with me saying:“You don’t give up my boy.”“My boy” was all I needed to hear.
Only once I began to accept that I was weak and sick and unaccepting of others – did I start healing my scars.
Every action is measured by the sentiment from which it proceeds.. Yes. but, we need to acknowledge that an action or thought could be a taught pattern of toxicity… Accept yourself, and you reclaim yourself in complete wholeness.”
– Alexander “Zanda” Adlam
Ken
“Life is fluid. Always moving, never stopping. Seconds to minutes to hours to days to weeks to months to years. From birth to death. Then a photo freezes me in time. Holding that moment for all to see, never again can that moment be captured. Time, after that second, has moved on. I can only look at that photo now and remember the experience. That, is who I was, then.”