Jilli Java & The Garden of Eden

intervention

2012-01-23T22:07:00.004-05:00

I'm sitting on the couch with my laptop and watching Intervention. I am absolutely amazed that the subjects don't realize they are going to be on this show. It has been on the air for several years; you'd think people would catch on. They believe they are being filmed for a piece on addiction. How can they not know there is going to be an intervention? Perhaps they are so consumed by their addiction that they are unaware of anything outside of the next high.

Either way, this show is always a gratitude check.

qwanswers

2012-01-15T11:29:00.005-05:00

Stat Counter reveals a lot about blog activity. Sometimes, more than we were expecting to see. My stat site tells me the general geographic location of readers, what link led them to my blog, and at times, the search words that brought my site to light. For the record, I will not be posting pictures of my children on this site ever again. If you would like to know why, then email me at jillijavaandthegardenofeden (at) gmail (dot) com.

So, moving on....

Based on the sheer volume of hits on certain links, here are some answers:

The off the wall name of my blog was inspired when on a walk with my then infant children in the wooded area of my past home. I am obsessed with all plant life (I wanted to name my firstborn Ivy,) I am a level I Certified Aromatherapist, an amateur botanist, and adorn my body and home with plants and flowers. I am a walking Garden of Eden (the name of one of my children.) My dream was/is to one day own a coffee house/bookstore with an adjoining botanical garden. Will it ever come to pass? I have no idea. Right now I pay the bills by working in a high end day spa as a licensed massage therapist. I love it.
I am the one that wrote Old Realities By The Minute. I noticed that this post goes viral on the web via the Booze Free Brigade every few months. My stat counter blows up with hits to this post. I can't tell you how that happened; I'm not a member of the Booze Free Brigade. All I hope is that for whatever reason its being tossed around, people gain something from it.
I would love to tell you that I am rocking a beautifully lustrous head of silver hair, but sorry folks, I started coloring it again about a year ago. All those who come here via 'going gray naturally' hits aren't going to get much more. But, I will certainly let readers know when I decide to ditch the color again.
I mention California a lot, a certainly a lot more lately. I was born and raised outside of Long Beach and my immediate family is still there. The rest are in San Diego. I lived for a period of time in San Luis Obispo county before moving to Kern County. I spent 10 years in Bakersfield before moving to Appalachia. I got sober for the first time at Thursdays in Sunset Beach, but ultimately kicked it in Bakersfield.

That should just about cover it.

Stay sober. Stay sane.

guess what?

2012-01-11T22:03:00.003-05:00

I purchased a new key chain holder thingie for my 11 year sobriety medallion. It came in the mail and I immediately went over to my mantle to fetch my medallion from my beautiful jewel encrusted butterfly box that had been gifted to me years ago by the lovely Gabriella Moonlight. That box held every single sobriety medallion I had ever received.

It was stolen in the break-in.

I just now noticed this.

I want to throw up.

get over it

2012-01-11T09:07:00.005-05:00

The only reason I am posting today is to get that last post off the front of the line. It was all heartfelt and true, but I'm pretty good at moving past the ugly and acting 'as if' and I need my blog to reflect that. So, here's to a Wednesday gratitude list:

Grateful that (and for):

I have a vast capacity for eternal optimism and sunshiny-ness. The perpetual cheerleader. Good gOd, I about did back flips when Annie got her iPhone. I like that quality about myself.
I'm having a good hair day. Sometimes, people, that's all I can ask for.
I was friended on Facebook by two people from back home whom I will be making a point to see when I go back in June. One is my tattoo artist and we are beginning the development phase of my awesome new piece of work. The other is the old roommate of an ex boyfriend. Making contact with these two guys got me out of my head and has given me something else to focus on other than my melodrama.
That I am at a point where I can feel gOd's grace working almost instantaneously. I know that I am being driven by a power far larger than anything I can comprehend. I like that powerlessness.
That I can now fit into a pair of jeans that were a no-fly zone for a while. I haven't really done anything differently. Maybe gOd saw fit to cut me some slack. Literally lol.
That I am off the hamster wheel of active alcoholism for another 24 hours. There are days I wake up (like today) and am in complete awe that I have made it to 11 years in sobriety. That kind of kicks ass.
Good people in Blogland who genuinely seem to care. I value each and everyone of you that comments and lends support.

coming to terms

2012-01-08T21:04:00.005-05:00

The past two weeks have been hellish and I guess I should just lay it all out on the line.

My children's father, my ex husband, has been in the hospital for a major procedure to address a major condition that could very easily have a major fallout. I do not have the license to disclose his condition or anything about his life, for that matter, so I will go no further. I will simply say that it was sudden and unexpected and a total kick in the gut.

My reaction to these turn of events leveled me. I, for one, do not want to lose this man. I love him. And that right there is a key player in my emotional Armageddon. I am being forced to deal with my emotional ties to him even after nearly two and a half years after our separation. Bottom line: I have not moved on. Oh, make no mistake. I have moved on physically...new house, bigger job, more stable, etc. Emotionally, I have not. A lot of my problem lies in the fact that he moved me 2,600 miles across the country after we were married and I don't have a single relative near me. I feel isolated and am missing California. I lost some of my identity when we left California and I lost even more when we got divorced. His whole family is two hours away in Ohio. I'm envious and hurt.

There is other stuff thrown in, too. Like other women in his life that I have to come to terms with. I'm not doing such a hot job with that, by the way. Jealousy and pain. What makes it suck even more that everyone in my sphere who has been through a divorce seems to have moved on so much more easily. I simply have not. There. It is out there.

I have not moved on.

I need help.

For the record, I have a good life out here in West Virginia. I own my own home. I have a job that allows me to be of service. I have friends. I have two beautiful children. I guess I have just grown weary of being reminded of the life I use to have and can't have back. I want to move back to California so that I can attempt a fresh start in an area that makes me comfortable, but I have two small children who cannot be separated from their father. I feel stuck and I feel alone.

There is a tattoo that needs to be finished on my back and another one that I would like to get on my shoulder cap. I would like to go back home and have the artist that started the project, finish it. I would like to go back to the desert where I got sober and tell it that I'm still sober. I would like to go visit a friend whom I haven't seen in over 20 years. We can sit at lifeguard tower number one and talk about our days growing up on the sand. Mostly, I just want to drive. Past old schools, old friends' homes, old haunts, old playgrounds. I want to remember some things before I get too much older and begin to forget. I want to remind myself why I left California in the first place and why I should be grateful for what I have now.

You know what's funny about all of this? The fact that I will have my computer with me the entire time and will probably get online each night in my hotel room to let you all know how it is going. Perhaps that is where the beauty is. Within community of people whom I have never met but have been with me through most of the hard stuff.

I'm rambling and I need to go to bed.

Thanks for listening.

spreading it around

2012-01-06T06:00:00.003-05:00

Louisey of Letting Go passed on a blog award. I haven't seen nor been the recipient of one of these in a very, very long time. I am touched by her consideration and kind words and for the opportunity to test drive my linking skills on my hot new computer ;-)

I will pass this little gem on to these three folks:

The Last 100 Days as an Alcoholic. I'm new to reading this blog but this gentleman is an excellent writer and always seems to post on topics that resonate with me. Plus, he comments. And I love it when people comment.

Enchanted Oak. Chris is a professional writer, a poet, and a sober woman in Alcoholics Anonymous. I love to read her writings of her locale (I lived in that region for many years) and I love her style. If I was still back there I would probably ask her to be my sponsor. Or at least out for coffee.

Elegant Blessings. Annie has been around for a while and is just delightful. Whenever I feel sluggish and unmotivated, I read her blog and all that she accomplishes before 7:00 AM and I get my head screwed on straight. She's funny, sober, inspirational, and I swear one day I will show up on her doorstep for dinner.

The rules are to post seven obscure facts about oneself. Here goes:

1. I have synesthesia. I present with Number Form Synesthesia and Personification. There are signs of other forms but these are the strongest.

2. I'm empathic. It sucks. It took me well into my adult years before I realized that I wasn't crazy. I would walk into rooms and become physically ill or have physical reactions to people. Being a massage therapist has helped me harness a degree of control but for most of my life it was debilitating. I truly believe that drinking helped numb the effects of it.

3. I'm freakishly strong to the point that its scary. My mother told me that when I was a year old, I snapped a plastic rattle in half with my hands. I really don't think that its a brute strength but more of a current that runs through me that allows me to focus my strength.

4. I only give a second glance to men with beards. Clean shaven doesn't even register.

5. I came close to trying out for the Laker Girls but my drinking got in the way.

6. I'm a college graduate and am trying to decide if I want to go back to grad school. I can't make up my mind. Which leads me to number 7.....

7. I can't make a decision about anything. Its a wonder I make it out the door each day. Menus freak me out because there's too many choices and god forbid I should have to pick a paint color at Lowe's. It took me a year to decide on the purple in my living room. And even then I needed outside input. I am so grateful that we have a dress code at work and the color is black. Otherwise, I would never be able to shop or get dressed.

Alrighty, people. Stay sober. Stay sane.

xanax party

2012-01-04T21:38:00.004-05:00

I'm the butt of some cruel cosmic jokes lately because the shit storms keep comin' and comin'.

Sorry. Stress seems to fly the classy right out of me.

I won't go into detail here because I don't have the permission of the others to write about their lives. I'm big into privacy like that. Let's just say that all kinds of crazy stuff is going down and a Xanax is looking mighty good right now. I'm taking the hits, though. Can't say I'm taking them in stride, but I'm taking them. I'm not acting out. I'm not throwing myself or others under the bus. I'm not posting random, vague, passive-aggressive Facebook updates about these situations which ultimately leave people wondering, "Is she talking about me??"

No. I'm doing laundry. Praying. Filed my nails. Brushed the dog (that one takes a while.) Taking care of my kids. Praying. Scrubbed the toilet. You get the idea.

I'll tell you what. Aside from the Steps, you know what makes handling this sh*t so much easier??

A new iMac Pro!

Stay sober. Stay sane.

update

2011-12-29T19:25:00.003-05:00

So, my new computer arrived today and all I can say is OH. MY GOD.

Sister didn't know just how awesome an iMac would be. But it is.

I had been looking around for a new computer for a few months and decided to take last week's break-in as an opportunity to give the finger to the old standbys. This thing is a friggin' Ferrari.

I am still trying to learn my way around it, but it was love at first sight and I can't stop playing with it. One unfortunate thing, this new computer shows my blog site in a different light. The green on my site is odd. It is in no way the color that I chose when I was developing my template on my old laptop. I imagine it must show up differently on different screens. I'm not digging it.

Thank you to all who left such kind comments. You all are a wonderful group of people. I need to think up a good word to describe my Blogger friends...

Froggers? (friends + bloggers)

Blends? (bloggers + friends)

Be back soon.

Stay sober. Stay sane.

2011-12-26T07:37:00.002-05:00

My home was broken into on Wednesday and all my valuables were stolen. Including my computer. Posting is difficult from an iPhone. The individual kicked in my back door while I was out with the dog.

:::sigh:::

I thank gOd I wasn't home when it happened.

I will be back more regularly to say 'Hi' to everyone when I get a new computer.

making room

2011-12-19T21:43:00.006-05:00

Hidey ho, blog fans. Just wanted to let folks know that, come the end of the year, I will be cleaning out my blogroll.

If you are a blogger that hasn't posted in the last 6 months, I will be deleting the site from the sidebar. I only say this at group level so that I don't offend any blog owners who might be reading and not commenting/posting. The sidebar is becoming saturated with what appear to be dead blogs and I would like to make room for new writers.

Stay sober. Stay sane.

dream interpretation

2011-12-11T21:24:00.004-05:00

Maybe its kicking the caffeine that has triggered this whole new level of WTF, but I truly cannot figure this one out.

I dreamt that Farrah Fawcett intentionally ran over my dog with her car (it was horrible) and he was also working as a waiter in a Chinese restaurant. With a uniform and everything.

I swear to gOd I am not making this up for effect.

Any thoughts?

another one bites the dust

2011-12-04T21:44:00.000-05:00

I think I'm going to kick caffeine.

I don't drink a lot of it, but I feel like I need to have it. And I don't like that feeling.

Coffee acts like battery acid on my stomach and sodas irritate an already sensitive bladder. But deep down in places I don't like to acknowledge, I feel like there might be a low grade dependency going on. That's really what this is all about.

Also, as a massage therapist, I am well aware of what role caffeine plays in chronic muscle tension. So, now I can practice what I preach.

Let's see how this goes.

all mine

2011-12-03T17:03:00.004-05:00

Today I treated myself to a gift that I have wanted for well over 15 years. I bought it second hand off of a massage client of mine and I love it. I use to peddle all over the East End of Charleston with an antiquated two wheeler that was so sad that my British neighbor use to snicker every time I rode by. I will consider this my combination sobriety/Christmas/birthday gift to myself. Now all I need is some bitchen urban cyclery wear and I'm all set.

Side note: please disregard the nasty pet stains on the hardwood by the bike. That's what I found when I pulled up the carpet last year.

purple

2011-11-28T08:15:00.005-05:00

I vicariously celebrated Thanksgiving through you, dear readers. Last year at this time I was preparing to close on my house and the owners allowed me into the property early in order to paint and pull carpet. So much was accomplished in two days that I decided to use this year's holiday to accomplish equally as much.

Thanksgiving, for me, consisted of a raging fever, a bowl of tuna with Triscuits, and painting my living room. While I still have temporary shades from Lowes up on the windows, the room is done, I tell ya. D.O.N.E.

What's hilarious is that Ginormous Cow Puppy was totally put off by the project and chose to stay outside throughout much of the 12 hour project. Which is probably best being as how he has enough fur for 10 dogs and can't seem to keep it from brushing up against the walls. I brought him in a few times for food and water and he sniffed the construction site with disdain and promptly went back to the door to be let out.

I don't have any good 'before' pictures but the room was an awful grayish white with horrendous tobacco stains. Now? Perfect. Window coverings and ceiling fan will be replaced as money becomes available. The massive mirror above the fireplace will be coming down, the wall will be repaired, and I will either have a magnificent painting displayed or a unique mirror. Also, I haven't decided yet whether I want bamboo shades or if I will sew curtains. The room is entirely too small for anything heavy and there is a lot of dust tracked in with the shaggy dog. I shall see...

What I'm most excited about is that while doing the room and watching a show on Netflix at the same time, I found the inspiration for the dining room color. There was a painting/logo in an office on the show and the color purple used in my living room was part of the piece. Also used was a green that I refer to as Taste of Asia Green. Anyone from Charleston, West Virginia would know what I'm talking about. Its completely ostentatious but it will blend perfectly with the color I have going right now. The dining room is a fraction of the size of the living room, so I should have it done fairly quickly.

Happy Sober Monday, people. Stay sane.

coming around again

2011-11-12T22:00:00.002-05:00

I ran across a post I had written several years back. So much has happened over the last few years and my children have grown up so much in that time, that I wanted to re-post it as a reminder to myself of what my dreams are for my girls.

Here it is, coming around again.

I'm fine

2011-11-11T20:17:00.005-05:00

It's Friday night and I'm doing OK.

A heartfelt thank you to all who wished me well and kept me in their thoughts. Wednesday has come and gone and clearly I am still standing. It went better than I had expected. The judge was kind and flexible and willing to allow my ex and I to stay with our own parenting plan and financial agreement. When I mentioned in my last post that our arrangement is unorthodox, I meant it. There is nothing about our arrangement that is typical and most people are astonished by how we make it work. But it does work and we wanted the courts to recognize that and sign off on it. They did.

Several people have asked me how I feel since the hearing. I can't put into words how I feel. I am 2,600 miles from my family and the possibility of moving back to California is not an option. I have children here and I won't take them from their dad or separate them from me. I have kind coworkers and trusted friends in AA. I am not alone. But I am most assuredly on my own. I lost my health insurance in the divorce. I walked away from our houses. I walked away from an awful lot, in fact, and many people think that I'm crazy or stupid. Possibly both. Crazy stupid perhaps, but I feel OK.

I'm fine. I knew I would be, but I can actually feel the fine-ness. No more Pepto to ease the nausea of pre-hearing nerves. No more sleep aids to help me make it through the nighttime anxiety. No more short sightedness due to frazzled divorce process depression. I'm fine.

On to the next challenge.

forgive me

2011-11-07T11:26:00.003-05:00

Forgive me, kind readers, for my lack of commentary on your blogs. This last week or so has found me paralyzed with fear over my upcoming divorce court date (this Wednesday, to be exact.) For what has been an amicable and fluid arrangement in parenting on both parts, could very well turn hostile and petty on Wednesday should either party find themselves on the wrong side of the judge.

My husband and I have a fairly unorthodox arrangement regarding the custody of our children, yet we have found over the last two years of separation that it works for all of us. For the most part, we want to be left alone to manage the arrangement as we see fit, with no oversight by the court. However, in the 11th hour, I am beginning to panic. We did not retain attorneys and have drawn up the agreements on our own. For lack of a better term, I'm scared I am going to be thrown under the bus by my ex.

So, blah blah blah about my problems. Nothing really is that important in the great scheme of things. I continue to read you all and am grateful for everyone's words of wisdom and insight. And I guess insight is wisdom, yes?

I will be back to random ramblings on Thursday.

just pluggin' along

2011-11-04T12:36:00.002-04:00

"Some days you get the bear, some days the bear gets you."

~Marie S.

too bored for a title

2011-10-26T09:40:00.002-04:00

Sitting at home waiting for a call from work. I have three appointments scheduled with the first one starting at 2:00. That may be it for the day or I may get a call in 2.5 minutes telling me someone scheduled a 10:00 AM. With that kind of work arrangement its difficult for me to get into anything of substance so I typically putter around the house waiting for the call. Currently I am puttering between Blogger and Facebook, both of which are beginning to scramble my brain. I need to focus. I guess I could go do my hair. Yes, when in doubt, groom.

Hey! I upgraded to an iPhone. Remember me lamenting my lack of Smartphone? (Whoop-di-do Kristin. No one cares...) Now I can publish quality videos of my dog to YouTube. I need to get a life.

Newcomer in the meeting last night. His very first ever meeting. I didn't get a chance to get his name or say hello. I hope he comes back. The topic was what brought us to AA. I always share in my leads that I was 12 Stepped into a meeting when a group of guys smoking cigarettes on a meeting break saw me stumbling through a back alley, drunk, and stalking my current love interest. Turns out that my paramour's apartment was across the alley from the AA clubhouse. I was hammered half out of my mind and they brought me into a meeting. I was 19 years old and remember absolutely nothing from that meeting.

Well, have a great day folks. Stay sober. Make it count.

2011-10-20T09:29:00.002-04:00

Nothing earth shattering today, folks. Fully recovered from surgery last Thursday. I attempted to go to work on Saturday. Made it through 2.5 hours of massage and then called my last two appointments and canceled them. My surgeon had told me that I would probably be OK to go back to work but it turns out, I wasn't. I was fine by Monday, however. Thank you to all who extended kind wishes for my procedure and recovery.

It was strange, but I have only had my dog 6 months and yet I was terribly lonely for him the two days that I had him in the kennel last week. I put him in on Wednesday morning and my ex retrieved him for me on Friday morning and it was just so odd not having him here. I have become accustomed to his presence and how he is simply a part of the surroundings. Queen size bed. Check. Red chaise lounge. Check. House plants. Check. Ginormous shaggy dog with enormous butt. Check. And he has become a fixture of the AA scene as well. I imagine in due time when people mention me and someone says, "Kristin? I'm not sure if I know her...." the response will be, "Oh, sure ya do. She's the one with the Sheepdog that she brings to meetings." My routine lately has been to leash him up, take him for a walk either to the meeting or around the meeting grounds. Tie him to a tree out front with his favorite Kong shoved full of peanut butter and biscuits and then keep an eye out for him through the meeting window. He loves it and he gets lots of sober love from the attendees before and after. Good times.

Trying to keep it simple today (and all days.) I have a three day weekend coming up and I need to put the yard to bed for the year and get to work on the kids' Halloween costumes. My nine year old will be dressing as Coraline from the movie Coraline. My seven year old, per my suggestion, will be wearing a sweatsuit peppered with cotton balls and carrying a spritzer bottle full of water. When asked what she is supposed to be, she has been instructed to spray the individual and say, "Partly cloudy with a chance of showers." She loved it.

Off to get ready for work.

Stay sober. Make it count.

update and randomness

2011-10-12T08:59:00.000-04:00

Because I live in the Land Of Do Everything Twice, the less invasive surgical procedure that was attempted in my doctor's office a couple weeks back has got bumped up to a full-fledged surgical procedure with general anesthesia and the works.

Just got off the phone with the surgery center a few minutes ago. They did my intake over the phone and asked me "Do you have any kind of reaction to any kind of drug.?" I told them, "When I take alcohol, I break out in handcuffs." The nurse busted out laughing and thought that was just hilarious. Hilarious, honey, but true. So true.

Parallels run amok on the blog these days. A few of us have had some hurtful things happen at the hands of people we called friends. I found out that some people in my life seem to feel that they have license to rip me apart behind my back. And then act as if nothing happened when I'm in their presence. Really? Really? You think that doing it behind my back means that I won't find out? Such a classic display of stupid.

Since I can never seem to find the time or money to take a trip anywhere, I am going to look at my drug-hazed post operative recuperation period as a vacation. Yes, I am.

For a couple of weeks, I counted calories and my clothes got all loose and baggy. And then I went to the doctor yesterday, stepped on the scale and the numbers haven't budged a bit. What the hell?

My fourth grader is beginning basic algebra. I am beginning to feel less intelligent. It might be time to apply to grad school.

I think I am the only person left without a Smartphone.

I want to know how I can look cute at the hospital tomorrow if I can't wear makeup. I'll have to do something really interesting with my hair.

The cutest thing I have seen in a long time was watching my second grader pack the dog's overnight bag for the kennel. She wanted him to have all his special things so that he didn't get lonely. I love her big heart.

Off to work, people.

Stay sober. Make it count.

go team (but only if you want to)

2011-10-07T09:12:00.001-04:00

Hard as it might be for people to believe, I was a cheerleader in school. Middle school through high school and even contemplated trying out for the college team as well. My drinking, of course, kind of derailed that plan.

I was the cheerleader that you saw on the ESPN National Competitions, so suffice it to say, it was my whole life. It was considered a sport in my high school that we could letter in yet unlike other sports, it was year-round and we practiced and trained accordingly. Obviously, the true reason for the squad was to provide support to the athletic teams of the school, and being from southern California, the school was enormous and the teams many. We were not only required to attend Football, Basketball and Baseball; but Water Polo, Lacrosse, Track and Field, and Wrestling. We probably would have been made to attend Gymnastics and Badminton as well, but the Vietnamese student players could have cared less is we were there or not. Personally, I jonesed to attend The Surf Team's meets, but they were held at 6 AM and, well, a girl needs her sleep.

We were not expected to stand on the sidelines belting out cheers for all these sports. That kind of cheering was saved for the Big Sports. All we had to do was show up in our alternate uniforms (school colored warm up suits,) sit in the bleachers and be supportive of a team that had no support outside of the coach and maybe the random mother or father. More often than not, we were the only ones there. We cheered on these teams even though many of them were a pathetic display of skill and sportsmanship. We baked cookies for the players on game days and created noise of encouragement when the opposing teams happen to bring large crowds. We were rarely appreciated and often mocked (we were cheerleaders, for gawd's sake.) Overall, we did what was expected of us out of a sense of teamwork and natural enthusiasm that only a perky pepster could have.

Fast forward 24 years and I'm still that girl. I'm still the loudest to clap and tightest to hug when a Program member receives a sobriety medallion. I am still the staunchest supporter when a newcomer needs encouragement in their early, faltering days of sobriety. Hell, there are still days when I want to do back handsprings down the length of the meeting room when I see a newcomer make it to a year of sobriety. I don't do it, but I want to. I typically end up bringing the brownies.

But after 24 years, there's a chip in the armor. I think I'm starting to get either tired or a teensy bit jaded. I'm starting to find it difficult to be a cheerleader for the newcomers that don't go to meetings, continue to hang out at bars and house parties because they think it's "hilarious to watch other people get drunk," live on a diet of Coke Classic and Marlboro Reds and wonder why they feel like shit, or simply just don't give a damn. I'm tiring of being a staunch supporter to those who are up my ass when they need me most but bail the moment they realize this "just isn't for them."

I recognize that what is at play here is expectations on my part and that I need to do my own work on that. Writing this post is part of that process. So, save me the lecture on letting go and letting god. I am also aware that part of what is going on is my own resentment of not having the cheerleader in my life that I desperately needed. At the age of 41, I am coming to terms with that. I had it in the form of sponsor 16 years ago, but she's on the west coast and I'm in Appalachia, and that relationship no longer exists.

I'm tired a lot these days and after a lot of contemplation on the matter I now recognize the problem. I have a healthy diet, I get lots of physical exercise, I sleep well, and I'm not sick. The problem lies in the fact that I expend energy in areas that ultimately end up draining me and I need to learn to conserve more simply for the sake of self preservation. I think that after 24 years, the cheerleader is going to need to hand over the megaphone. I think that what I will need to do, at least for a while, is sit on the sidelines and support in silence.

In parting, Ginormous Cow Puppy says 'Hello.' As long as he's fed, he's my biggest supporter.

11 years

2011-10-01T00:01:00.001-04:00

In the last year I have:

Dealt with a year-long, dragged out, breast cancer scare.

Dealt with chronic, painful complications from a worsening latex allergy.

Dealt with the progression of a divorce process that will soon be coming to an end.

Bought a house.

Moved into the house.

Had relationship issues that have leveled me.

Assisted in the major, back-breaking relocation of my place of employment.

Dealt with the death of my beloved employer and buddy.

Added a 70 pound ginormous cow puppy to my household.

Gained 30 pounds.

And I haven't had to drink or use through a single bit of it.

God is good.

alcohol and the supernatural

2011-09-24T22:26:00.005-04:00

In one week, gOd willing, I will celebrate 11 years of continuous sobriety.

In the year leading up to my sobriety date of October 1, 2000, I had begun to feel and hear things that were outside of the realm of normal sensory experience. There was Internet but I found it more useful to seek the answers to my experiences in the shelves of local bookstores. In between binges, hangovers, and Happy Hours, I sought to explain the odd sensations that would overtake me at random hours of the day and night. There were voices and cold spots in the house. Objects would move unaided from room to room. I could feel myself being watched on a regular basis, to the point that I gave a name to the unseen entity. Bizarre, out of the ordinary things would happen daily. The occurrences were so obvious that I knew for a fact that I was not going crazy.

I found much that alluded to what was going on. There are entire shelves in bookstores, in fact, dedicated to these very issues. I bought a lot of these books and read them all. Movies were watched and people of interest were spoken to. I was desperate for answers.

In a simultaneous, parallel run of events, my drinking was to soon come to a grinding halt. With the clarity of hindsight, I can say that my metaphysical experiences and the final stages of my alcoholism were entwined. Like the threads of a fine tapestry, of and by themselves not adding up to much, but together, juxtaposed to give the impression of reliance. Each thread needing the other in order to be made part of the bigger picture.

In short, these experiences were a fundamental part of rendering me sober.

After months of chasing my tail to get concrete answers to experiences that were outside the realm of the human experience, I was left with this:

What was happening was part of a reality greater than myself. I may never have concrete answers to what was happening but I could accept that it was part of my reality and that I had little control over any of it. Something else was in charge and it wasn't me.

Imagine that.

After the brutal last night of drinking of September 30th, 2000, I awakened to the calm stillness that only a Mojave morning could bring. With my new-found realization of a power greater than myself tucked under my belt and the previous evening's massacre coursing through my body, I was armed to make the decision that would fundamentally alter my life.

I was done with the drink and something greater than myself was going to take over from here. That power has been leading the way ever since.

And for the record, my drinking was not causing me to hallucinate. The supernatural events only became stronger and more frequent following my sobriety date of October 1st, 2000.

random musings

2011-09-14T10:45:00.002-04:00

Relationships suck.

Going in for surgery on September 26th.

Bored to death with my life right now.

I'm on the verge of doing something really crazy or really stupid to shake things up.

Sometimes I want to look at people in my life and say, "Gee, you certainly drink a lot. You know, for a person who doesn't have a problem."

I want to go on a date. The kind where the man picks you up at your front door, opens the car door, pays for dinner, and takes you home with a goodnight kiss on the front porch. I don't want to have to drive on this date and I don't want to have to plan the evening.

Meeting tonight.

At least I'm having a good hair day.

Happy Sober Wednesday, people.

it's worth a shot

2011-09-13T18:50:00.002-04:00

brain fade

2011-08-24T12:07:00.006-04:00

This best illustrates how my brain has been functioning lately. Plus, its hilarious.

sitting at the bar

2011-08-16T16:13:00.002-04:00

I'm tired.

I've got a shit ton of emotional garbage to work through and I just want to sit on my couch and watch Aqua Teen Hunger Force with a bag of potato chips.

You can take the bong away from the girl but that doesn't mean that she still doesn't speak Stoner,

Work is fine. Busy as all hell, which is good, but that contributes to my tiredness. So, vicious circle.

What I need to do is get my dead ass in gear and paint my house. Upstairs and downstairs. ::sigh::

There's some crazy making personality stuff going on in my home group. I've missed the live version in that I haven't been there in a couple of weeks. I have caught up via emails and second hand information. I don't think I'm up for any more drama so I may stay home tonight.

So, Ginormous Cow Puppy was taught a trick at dog training called 'Praying.' I thought it looked more like 'Sitting at the Bar.' Check it out (please ignore the crappy photo quality)

here we go again

2011-08-07T11:02:00.003-04:00

"Yes, it's true. You are a good woman. Then again, you may be the Antichrist."

~ Doc Holliday

what I don't write about

2011-07-27T08:41:00.003-04:00

I write about fat dogs, Jack White, new houses, day spas, and bearded men because my life is simple today.

Because of sobriety.

My writing is minimalistic because my brain is, for now, not cluttered with the noise of constant sorrow. I no longer feel plagued, beleaguered, strung out.

Because of sobriety.

But make no mistake. I know addiction.

Fat dogs, hot musicians, and day spas aside, I know what its like to wake up and pray to a gOd of my understanding to get me through the day in 30 second intervals because the prescribed Lortab for my daughter's tonsillectomy is screaming at me from the bathroom medicine cabinet.

I know what its like to come home from an AA meeting only to find that my significant other has been hammering back beers on the couch since he arrived home from work four hours earlier.

I know what its like to feel left out because three quarters of the staff are going to a Happy Hour infused dinner after work and I wasn't invited because they know I don't drink. For the record, that's a key reason I attend AA. Because the people there understand those feelings.

I know what its like to pass the wine aisle at Kroger and feel that sharp, albeit brief, feeling of nostalgia of what it was like to do wine tours in California's central coast. I say 'brief', because the longer I stay sober, the less impact those memories have on me.

I know what its like to have a drunk dream so vivid that I wake up shaken to the core and so filled with remorse and dread that I have to change my sobriety date.

I know what its like to come face to face with a severely hung over person and get sick to my stomach because 1. I remember and 2. I identify with the lie they tell when they say that they "must have a touch of the flu."

I know what its like to wake up on some days and wonder if its all worth it. That maybe after nearly 11 years of continuous sobriety, maybe, just maybe, I can drink like other people. For the record, that's why I attend AA meetings. The people there remind me that sobriety is worth it, the bad feelings will pass, and no, I cannot drink like normal people.

That is all.

Happy Sober Wednesday.

Ozwald

2011-07-22T07:41:00.001-04:00

Disclaimer: music was not my choice. Audioswap picked it due to my audio being banned for copyright reasons.

Who knew that all I had to do was go to Books-A-Million?

2011-07-18T17:09:00.004-04:00

In other news...

My ginormous cow of a dog has gained a questionably impressive 20 lbs. in a month. Which puts the four month old beast at 45 lbs. He was brought to the vet today for what I refer to as Whack-A-Ball 2011.

My dog is high as a kite right now.

this I know...

2011-07-17T21:33:00.004-04:00

the less I say, the happier I am.

true story

2011-07-11T09:25:00.002-04:00

It is slightly disturbing to me that in the face of everything that I encounter that speaks of gOd's work, for this week, clean laundry resonates the deepest.

Clean laundry has a way of tying everything together.

friday anthem

2011-07-01T07:11:00.001-04:00

the quiet alcoholic

2011-06-25T21:54:00.006-04:00

A kindly, old gentleman who walks past my house at least daily, stopped to talk today. He has stopped on a couple of other occasions, but tonight was lengthy. He caught me with a mower in hand and he had to comment. Its a reel/push mower and he thought that was just so old-timey. And my dog was outside and he had to comment. He likes my dog and babbles on about it every time he stops. Then my kids came outside and he had to comment. Then he went on and on about the no-longer-in-existence drug house down the street and all the problems they have had with it.

See where I'm going here? He's a talker. And I'm not too much of one, so I nodded a lot.

And then he says, out of the clouded blue sky, "Well, I'm a quiet alcoholic, so you don't have to worry about me."

I looked up from my mowing, certain that he was trying to make a joke. And it was clear from his expression that he was deadly serious. As in "I'm dying of a deadly disease here, folks. Please notice me." And I did.

So I said, "Well, I'm a sober alcoholic. I quit drinking over 10 years ago."

Turns out that he is in the process of trying to gain admittance to a VA treatment program and that he desperately wants to quit drinking. He has been informed by them that if he attempts to quit without help, he may go into DTs. He is 72 years old. Lord only knows how long that man has been drinking.

He said to me, "I want to quit drinking, but I just can't stop."

I want to quit drinking, but I just can't stop.

He was headed down the hill on foot when I saw him. I asked him where he was headed. He said, hedging a bit, "Well, if you must know, I was headed to get a bottle."

There was more to the conversation, but I'm tired and am without the energy to write any more. Lets just say that I was in need of a gratitude check today. I have been taking my sobriety for granted within the last few weeks and I needed a reality check upside the head.

I got one.

Dear gOd, help this man quit drinking.

file this one under 'too much information'

2011-06-20T09:56:00.001-04:00

or, 'Ode to the Beard.'

Just found this on another blog and I had to steal it.

I'm a Man Hair lover. Beards, goatees, mustaches, chest hair, all of it. Although, I think that if you have a mustache then you should strive for balance with some chin hair otherwise you're just rockin' the Tom Selleck.

Kind of like this:

or this:

Something tells me that I'm going to regret this post.

Have a great Monday.

15 weeks

2011-06-14T16:44:00.000-04:00

The ginormous cow puppy at 15 weeks. He's a tank. And soooo lovable. This picture doesn't do his size justice.

this just in...

2011-06-12T17:02:00.004-04:00

Service in AA does not necessarily mean formal dealings with G.S.O or even chairing a meeting. Service work can be as simple as bringing brownies to a meeting or staying after to stack chairs. And, one need not be formally delegated to these tasks. Just bring the brownies. Nobody will complain.

That is all.

seriously?

2011-06-02T21:04:00.001-04:00

Evidently I must have a look on my face that welcomes unsolicited observations from people in my life.

"When I see you, I see a person with a lot of deep sadness in their life."

(are you kidding me? deep sadness?)

"When I look at you, I see someone who still harbors a lot of anger."

(::sigh::)

"You really need to let people in more."

(no, actually I don't.)

Folks, lets clear something up. I am from a family of seven. Two parents, five kids. One of the parents and three of the kids have bright sunshiny faces that welcome interaction and are engaging and approachable. The other parent and two other kids (one of which is me,) are of dark, Mediterranean descent, with somber, naturally guarded expressions that are in no way representative of our emotions. We are a secure, contented people that simply don't wear our emotions on our sleeves. There is a good possibility that if you see somber reflection upon my face then I am more than likely deep in thought about my grocery list or home renovation as opposed sad reflection over my divorce or the state of the union.

What is funny is that my mom has given my dad hell about this his entire life and now I find myself in the exact same position. Must be that whole apple-tree thing.

Full circle, I tell you.

google chrome can bite me

2011-05-27T18:43:00.001-04:00

about as much as the BMI chart can.

I haven't been able to gain access to my blog in over a week.

A re-install is all it took, but I've been so busy, I haven't even had time for that.

Sometimes a girl just wants to blog-and-go, ya know?

big dog

2011-05-16T19:42:00.005-04:00

My dog has turned into a ginormous cow puppy within the span of a week. I have already had to lengthen his collar once and I can no longer carry him in his travel crate with one hand.

He is ten weeks old and he walks on a leash as though he has been doing it for years. We walk up the road to a local AA meeting and he gets lots of sober loving from the meeting goers out front.

He lives a few houses down from some neurotic barkers that he seems puzzled by.

He likes to sit on the porch and chew his bone and watch the cars drive by.

He sleeps through the night, although I get up at 2:00 AM to take him out back to do his business.

He likes to take baths and I've taught him to sit.

The kids think he's something to fight over.

When he stays still long enough for a picture, I will post one.

what does it all mean?

2011-05-08T21:27:00.000-04:00

I went to the doctor on Friday.

How is it possible that I have gained 40 lbs. in the last year but my blood pressure is magnificent and I have never felt better?

Believe me when I say that I in no way can afford to gain any amount of weight.

When I left California after my wedding and moved to Appalachia 10 years ago, I looked like this:

I post Jennifer Esposito because that is who my husband once said I remind him of.

I now look like this:

I post Sara Ramirez because that is who my spa manager says I look like.

Eleven years ago I was thin, tan, and highlighted. I was also strung out on diet pills, yo yo dieting, compulsive exercising, and was generally discontent regarding my never satisfactory weight. And while this is a recovery blog, I refuse to talk about the ten year struggle with an eating disorder through my teens and early 20's that nearly killed me. I would need to start a separate blog to deal with those issues.

Fast forward through two kids, married life, sobriety, age, and resolve and what I ended up with is plus size, naturally fair to olive skin, and my natural brown/black hair. Honestly, there are days that I don't even recognize myself.

But still I am depressed. It isn't that I necessarily desire to be thin again. Frankly, folks, that was too much work. What I desire is to live in a society that doesn't obsess over weight. I want to go to the store and not see magazine covers every calendar month advertising how to Lose 28 Pounds In Three Weeks! I want to go to work and not hear clients talk about the latest diet, boot camp, pill they are trying. I want to come from a family that doesn't obsess on body image. I want to get off the not so merry-go-round of mental crazy making that surrounds my weight and image. I want to be found beautiful for the body I have and not because my winning personality compensates for the body I have (insert sarcasm here.)

No deep meaning here, people. Just burned out on the weight issue.

::sigh::

That is all.

just like his new owner

2011-05-05T10:15:00.004-04:00

My new puppy arrives tomorrow. Something tells me that if he's anything like his new owner (me,) that this is what I will be dealing with in a few years:

power of the program (in photo)

2011-04-30T07:37:00.004-04:00

best thing I've heard all week...

2011-04-28T08:06:00.000-04:00

"Control is not necessarily telling a person what to do or how to live their life. Control means making sure that, through our actions and behaviors, we are always on their mind."

~Anonymous

akron in may

2011-04-24T20:30:00.005-04:00

I will have a couple of weekends free during the month of May. The kids will be with their dad and I don't need to work on one of the weekends.

I want to go back to Dr. Bob's house.

I went there a few years ago and, frankly, it was one of the most spiritual experiences I have ever had.

The question is: what do I do with the puppy? Bring it with me? Hire a sitter? I think the puppy would love a road trip to Akron...

new kid in town

2011-04-16T22:01:00.002-04:00

As if I didn't have enough going on in my life right now, I go and decide to add a new member to the family...

Currently, his name is Barney. But I'm thinking of changing it to Jerry Garcia. Any thoughts?

a strong need to control

2011-04-09T23:02:00.000-04:00

I spent entirely too long on the phone with my cable provider this evening deliberating over whether I should cut some of my services in an attempt to downsize. The service I was willing to let go of was only going to save me $11.00 a month. Once I heard that number, I should have said, "SO not worth it. Just keep the service." And then move on to another item in my budget that I could relinquish to save more money.

But no, I couldn't let it go.

I am anxious right now. I have been separated for over a year and a half and we are just now beginning to finalize the remaining documents for the divorce. With this divorce I will lose my health insurance; a coverage that is not offered through my current employer.

Have I mentioned on the blog that I am in the midst of a potential breast cancer 'thing?' No? Well, I am. The MRI shows that the mass does not appear to be malignant, but they haven't been able to biopsy it because every time they get me on the table, it rolls out of site; which is an indicator that it might not be cancer, but they won't know that until its out.

Did I mention that an MRI without health insurance will cost me $4,000.00?

I am scheduled for another one in June. ::sigh::

So, I'm nickel and diming myself right now trying to find the financial safety net that will make it all better. There is none, you know. Because once I find the savings somewhere in my budget, the HVAC system will go out. Or the kids will need braces. Or I'll have to get the car fixed. There is always something.

The madness in this scenario is that I have turned down jobs recently that would provide me with benefits simply because I would rather sever my arm than show up every day to said jobs. I got sober so that I could live, not just survive. My social work career, while noble and admirable, was torture for me and I would count the hours on the clock until I could check out and get drunk. The moment I got sober, I got a clue.

If I was going to take back my life, then I was going to do exactly what I wanted to do with it. Career and all.

Fast forward 10 years and I'm at a crossroads. Do I leave my beloved spa and cherished profession so that I can go to bed at night knowing that a $4,000.00 MRI is paid for (at least 80/20?) And for the record, private insurance for an individual will break a person on my income. Sorry folks, that's health care in America.

I know that the answers will come. I do the footwork necessary to get me through my day honestly and with integrity and I pretty much leave the rest up to gOd.

In the meantime, I stay sober.

more miscellany

2011-04-04T15:59:00.000-04:00

because clearly I can't draft a full post with proper formatting...

99.9% sure that I'm getting old because I'm contemplating turning my home group into an AM meeting. My current meeting at 7:00 PM is beginning to feel kind of late. Sad.

Was anybody ever really a 'fan' of the Marshall Tucker Band?

Nothing makes my day more than when my kids get up in the middle of a meal to come give me a hug and kiss and tell me how much they love me. The seven year old sometimes does it twice. Good stuff.

Rigorous honesty: I dyed my hair. I was on a year and a half stretch of going gray naturally. I caved last week and dyed it auburn. The kids' dad said I look like the devil. Heh.

Car got broken into last week. It was at my house. They took loose change and ransacked it. I'm grateful nothing was broken, however, I couldn't help thinking, "This is the best you can do? 45 cents in loose change? You're not even going to take ALL of the change??" Maybe they had a flash of conscience while raiding my vehicle. Doubt it.

For the newcomer: I still crave alcohol. I don't crave the chaos, hangovers, unmanageablilty, pain, despair, or desperation. But I do still crave alcohol. They cravings don't happen often and they aren't strong, but occasionally they show up. I say this for the individual sitting in the room wondering why the cravings haven't left. Maybe they will, maybe they won't. My point is that I've learned to live happily around them.

The man or woman who invented Netflix is a genius.

Since it's almost 4:00 PM and I'm getting old, I'm gonna go have dinner and then get ready for bed...

velveeta and tater tots and gynecology

2011-03-26T19:40:00.001-04:00

Apparently 1975 has not exited my kitchen because hamburgers with Velveeta and tater tots were for dinner.

My post dinner chaser was licking the brownie mix bowl with my daughters.

Did not want to be at work today so I had to repeatedly ask gOd to remind me how much my clients wanted to see ME.

Have you ever noticed how dental offices will sometimes have a picture of a tooth on their signage out front?

Ever thought how that just wouldn't work for, say, a proctologist or gynecologist?

Ever thought of doing something special for that ohsospecial recovering person in your life? Get them something here or here.

I take recovery seriously but

2011-03-19T22:58:00.004-04:00

some things just beg to be posted.

Every time I see this one on my Youtube channel, it screams to be posted (as if it didn't go viral years ago...)

shuffle

2011-03-17T20:40:00.001-04:00

Random thoughts...

My professional life is weird. I work in a very dimly lit room, in clothes that are not unlike pajamas, barefoot, with a couple of candles, and low playing spa music. I come out of each massage yawning and rubbing my eyes. I have been doing this for close to 10 years. Is it any wonder why I get into my car and crank up the speed metal? Without Tool or even the White Stripes, I would undoubtedly fall asleep behind the wheel.

I took the night off from chairing the Speaker Meeting to take my newly minted 7 year old out for a Big Girl Dinner. I had flowers delivered for her. She waddled away from the table with a plate of spaghetti and meatballs, a basket and a half of bread, spumoni, and two glasses of lemonade in her belly. I have no idea where she put it. She's tiny. She felt special and, frankly, so did I. My kids are gifts of sobriety.

I can't stand the word 'moist.'

Or 'sponsor.'

Had a newcomer in the meeting Monday night that was so new, he was still shaking. He was in bad, bad shape, but he was in the right place. His wife said it was his decision to go to the meeting. He came with his wife and a family friend. The family friend asked me how they can get him a sponsor, so I took the newcomer over to the back of the room where a stable group of oldtimers sit and said, "He needs phone numbers." I hope he comes back.

I don't like the word 'goiter,' either.

For the record, I do know how to write correctly. I simply choose not to because it is easier for me to write how I think. Fragmented and out of sequence. Kind of like shuffling the deck and picking a card. You never know what you're going to get. It makes me a lousy public speaker, but I was fantastic fun when I was stoned.

I'm so glad Pam is back

Stay sober, people.

God is good.

oy

2011-03-14T12:13:00.006-04:00

You know what's a tricky place to be in?

To be in a place of great emotional turmoil and transition and be trying to renovate your home at the same time.

I'm a believer in color therapy. Yet being in a place of emotional instability means that I am gravitating to a color scheme that reflects my desire to seek stasis in my life.

It should be no surprise that every room in my house is on the verge of turning green.

"Green is the color of nature. It symbolizes growth, harmony, freshness, and fertility. Green has strong emotional correspondence with safety. Dark green is also commonly associated with money.

Green has great healing power. It is the most restful color for the human eye; it can improve vision. Green suggests stability and endurance. Sometimes green denotes lack of experience; for example, a 'greenhorn' is a novice. In heraldry, green indicates growth and hope. Green, as opposed to red, means safety; it is the color of free passage in road traffic."

~Color Wheel Pro

Oy. I cannot have a completely green house. It's enough that I have an absurd amount of house plants to begin with, but now the walls, too? I know I have an obsession with Poison Ivy. To the point that I wanted to name my firstborn Ivy. My plant obsession borders on a TLC worthy reality show. I cry when I see plants being harmed. I don't even like to cut my grass. I become annoyed with my spa full of vegetarians because they are harming my beloved plants. And now? Now every room in my house wants to be painted green because emotionally I am seeking stability.

And I am, you know.

Several years ago, in a much more stable time of my life, when I would work on a home renovation, my color palette was far more diverse. Green wasn't even a consideration. Now my emotions have a stranglehold on my decorating scheme.

I'm even tired of saying 'green.'

I need help.

make no mistake

2011-03-06T21:03:00.003-05:00

I take sobriety seriously.
Lighthearted brain droppings such as those about Orange Food and my obsession with Jack White are just that: lighthearted brain drainage.
Alcoholism (addiction) is deadly serious and I don't take the treatment of it lightly.
I am watching a drama in my family unfold on the west coast that will affect many lives. It centers around the alcoholism of a young woman who is fighting treatment while her infant son and fiance wait on the sidelines to see which path she will take.
For the record, I have nothing to do with this drama. I have not spoken to them nor have they asked for my opinion. All information comes through my mother. However, I'm thinking that at $28,000 a month, she should try taking a stab at recovery.
I guess that is kind of an opinion.
If you're headed to the grave, you don't blame the hearse (Jack White.)

miscellany and a happy anniversary

2011-03-03T10:34:00.002-05:00

Tired. T-I-R-E-D. Tiiiiiiiired. Enough said.
Had a return of Orange Food Day. For those that haven't been blessed with my OFD blog posts of the past, it's the day when I'm grocery shopping, get mid-way through, look down in the cart, and realize that 95% of the food is orange. Salmon, squash, orange juice, Cheetos, carrots, etc... I have no idea why this happens. It doesn't happen with other colors. Just orange.
Hired a contractor from the program to work on my newly purchased house. He vanished. Just hired another contractor to come in and fix contractor #1's handiwork ala Mike Holmes style. A home group member had warned me about contractor #1. I should have seen the handwriting on the wall. For the record, alcohol was involved. ::sigh::
March is the month that I chair the speaker meeting with T at St. J.'s downtown. Interesting lineup this year. Lot's of new stories. Need to pick up doughnuts tonight.
Happy 1 year anniversary to fellow blogger(s) Crying Out Now. Blog mistress Ellie put together a beautiful tribute video. Check it out.
Sobriety marks the end AND a beginning. The end of the madness, the end of the pain, the end of the lies, the end of living a reactionary life and a life of confusion. What happens after is the beginning of true potential and creativity. So make it count.

I don't know what to say to them

2011-02-24T21:11:00.006-05:00

One of the most challenging things about sobriety is watching those in the periphery grapple with their demons. Demon alcohol that is. At this very moment, aome members of my outer circle are dealing with alcoholism. One is in outpatient, the other is soon to be admitted to inpatient, a couple more are still in active addiction but wanting help.

I spoke with a fellow home group member on the phone today about how best to be of service to these individuals. Apparently when one has been sober a bit, one becomes a source of information for those needing to know.

I know nothing.

I have no illusions about these situations. My own history is riddled with relapse, and as a result, I approach recovery with a more jaded outlook than most. It's not that I don't think that these gals can't get the monkey off their back. It's just that I'm fully aware of the rocky road ahead of them and I know their families. They come from families that embrace alcohol. Trying to carve out a new niche within families that enjoy their alcohol will be tough. I should know, I tried for years.

A geographic was part of my solution.

All I do know is that I will be watching with open ears, eyes, and heart and trying my best to learn all I can about their process, while keeping my mouth shut. My being sober does not make me an expert in recovery. My being sober makes me an expert in my own recovery, not theirs. But by being willing to be of service and not a hindrance in the process, I stand to gain.

And I need all the help I can get.

blackout in Cleveland

2011-02-18T21:52:00.000-05:00

Home Group anniversary party/speaker meeting went well.

I asked T how the hell I am supposed to cram my lifetime of drinking and subsequent recovery into 20 minutes. I was told to find one glaring example of what it was like and then move on from there.

My example?

A few years back I was stoked to be taking a road trip to Cleveland to see a show at the House of Blues and to take in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I was filled with questions and anticipation about the town, having never been there before.

Imagine my reaction when I'm standing in the mall in downtown Cleveland, looking around, and realize, "Oh sweet mother of gOd. I have been here before."

I had spent four days in Cleveland back in 1990 and didn't remember.

I don't remember much of 1989-1994. Those were the hardest days of my drinking. I had traveled for my brother's company from 1990-1991 and remember very little of what I saw and did. Technically, I know I saw the continental US and all of Canada. What I did was drink my way through all of it.

So, I shared about that and talked about my relationship with AA. It went well and, of course, there is about a dozen things I wished I had added.

The best part about the meeting?

Seeing a room filled with some serious sobriety. That meeting has introduced me to a lot of people that I have come to respect and they were all there Tuesday night.

The second best part?

The food, of course.

'in his cups'

2011-02-12T22:15:00.000-05:00

I need to sort my thoughts before next week. Home Group is having a potluck gathering and I have been asked to speak. A mini lead; 20 minutes rather than the standard 45-60.

The abbreviated version of my story? I don't even know where to start.

T and I think it would be hilarious to sneak in some Big Book speak. You know, a little 'John Barleycorn' and 'in his cups.' There's a guy here in town who is under the age of 40 and completely current and urban, but when he shares, he can insert those phrases and not even bat an eye. 'King Alcohol' and 'shivering denizens of his mad realm' just flow off his tongue, as if he's been transported back to 1938.

Yeah, right. If I was to try it, I'd be snorting Pepsi out my nose trying not to bust out laughing from the podium.

Mainly, I'm concerned about the food (of course.) There's a bunch of holes in the menu and I'm concerned about there not being enough to serve. It's an open house potluck. AA members from around the valley are all invited.

"Don't worry about what you're going to share, Kristin, think about the FOOD!"

The reality is that I am the worst speaker ever and I'm kind of wishing they had chosen someone else. I even took public speaking in college and I still suck. It takes me the entire hour of a meeting just to formulate a coherent thought, gOd forbid I should have to share any time before then. I can have a great train of thought going and then, "LOOK! A SQUIRREL!"

Some call that ADD.

So, maybe the whole 20 minute lead idea is a good one. I can be wrapping things up right about the time that my mind starts to wander off.

hell

2011-02-09T19:01:00.002-05:00

Today, within the span of 60 minutes, I went from feeling physically fine, to feeling like complete and utter hell.

I walked into a massage strong, healthy, and happy to be there, to feeling like I had been injected with some sort of awful virus.

I think my client transferred all his negative energy into me and now he feels super and I feel like crap.

miscellany

2011-02-09T08:53:00.000-05:00

Not-such-a-new New Guy at the meeting last night. Nice to hear him share in that he shared my experience of being new in town and feeling like he 'got this sobriety thing' and could shirk going to meetings. Alas, he found that didn't work and that his Restless, Irritable, and Discontent got the better of him. Back to a meeting he went and as he was heard saying, "And I hear you all are some kind of party next week, so I'm really glad I came tonight!"

Spoke with an old sponsor of mine on Sunday. She has been having a rough few years with death, retirement, money, and family bringing on challenges that she is overwhelmed by. I was grateful to hear her voice in that it was by meeting and talking with her weekly years ago that I was brought out of my AA stand-off and returned to meetings. What I love about her is that she will always follow up a phone conversation with a big letter that is handwritten and delivered by snail mail. I got home yesterday to find such a letter in the mail, filled with all the information that she had forgot to tell me in our phone conversation. Love it.

I can't bring myself to buy a Kindle because I feel like I won't have anything to leave my kids. As lame as that might sound, my books will be a strong part of my legacy and when I die and I would like for them to have something tangible to remember me by. My book collection is eclectic and dear to me; I look forward to the day when I catch my daughters browsing the shelves and happening upon something that catches their attention and then later blows their mind.

Made a mistake and forgot to drink coffee a couple days in a row. Big mistake. Big. I wanted to scream every time I heard a client complain of a headache. "Headache?? You want to feel a headache? I'LL SHOW YOU A HEADACHE!!!!"

I need to stop wearing so much black.

Stay sober. Make it count.

45 degrees of pain

2011-02-05T21:43:00.001-05:00

Getting high sounded good today.

Sit on the couch, with a bag of Doritos, stoner kind of high.

Today, a client of mine mentioned getting morphine for a back injury.

I felt a twinge of envy.

::sigh::

I obviously am looking to escape some pain, so what I did instead was go for a ridiculously painful walk in my new neighborhood. Apparently, I needed a demonstration of just how painful life can be.

"Why the pain?" you ask...

Because evidently the engineers who built my neighborhood thought it would be wicked cool to build all the houses on streets that are at a 45° angle.

No, I am NOT kidding.

I about had a fricking stroke. I swear to gawd, there was pain shooting down my left arm and I had to stop just to ward of the hurling that I felt coming on. I really don't think those are good signs.

And then I came home and cried my eyes out watching My Girl. Read some recovery blogs. Did some sewing.

I no longer want to get high.

The Dorito option is not off the table....

remembering

2011-01-28T19:47:00.002-05:00

Once a year I repost this in an attempt to remember with crystal clarity just how disgusting this addiction had become. Of course, this post doesn't include the drunk drivings, failed relationships, broken limbs, depleted bank accounts, etc. that were part and parcel with my drinking. This was but a snippet. But a very real one, nonetheless.

Enjoy.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Old Realities By the Minute

A normie blogger friend wrote to me in an email recently about how she liked the tone of gratefulness in my blog posts. I responded with a simple "thank you" but later decided that more should be said on the matter.

I am grateful today. And all days, in fact. For all things big and small in my life. From my family to the laundry I fold. For my health and the food in the fridge. My education. My job. Even the bills that I have to pay with the money that I earn at my job. It is all connected and I am grateful for all of it. Because not all that long ago my reality was vastly different.

Kristin circa 1999:

Passed out at some point between midnight and 2:00 AM.

4:00 AM: Come to on the couch. TV still on. Lights are still on. Oven is still on. WTF?

4:02 AM: Stumble into bathroom to pee. Make it to bedroom and crawl into bed.

7:30 AM: Lawnmower from down the street can no longer be ignored. Pounding headache is not so much "pounding" as it is an "ice pick" drilling a hole in my brain. Get up to find aspirin, realize it's in purse, can't remember what happened to purse after passing out that night (morning?) Go to bathroom to look for more aspirin. No luck.

7:45 AM: The queasiness is starting to kick in. Can't get back to sleep because the cocktail of drill bit headache and nausea-on-a-rampage. Crackers. Must find crackers.

7:46 AM: Vomit.

7:47 AM: Vomit again.

8:00 AM: Call in sick to work. Read boss a pathetic tale of food poisoning at the hands of bad Chinese takeout. Boss is sympathetic. I'm now guilt ridden and remorseful for being such a liar.

8:05 AM: Go back to bed with shades drawn.

10:21 AM: I don't know if I awaken to the feeling of hunger or hangover. It can only be described as the hangover trifecta: tremors, nausea, and a mind numbing headache. Nice. Should make for a GREAT day. Not. My stomach feels like I swallowed battery acid. My mouth tastes like hot dog water.

10:25 AM: Go pee. It burns to pee. Oh f**k.

10:35 AM: Eat piece of leftover pizza from the night before. Can't remember ordering it.

10:45 AM: Drink a quart of orange juice.

11:00 AM: Starting to feel somewhat better. Not 100%. More like 35%. Try to pull off a shower.

11:35 AM: Shower gets me up to 45%. Things are starting to look up. Can't look in the mirror, however, because my face looks like ten miles of bad road.

12:00 AM: The shakes are starting to subside, the headache is still there, the body aches, still nauseous. Try going to porch to sit outside. See the leftover wine bottles, beer bottles, and overflowing ashtrays sitting out on the patio from the night before. Try to remember what had happened. Vaguely remember talking to someone on the phone. Can't remember who. Can't remember what was said. Hope to God I didn't offend anyone. Can't believe I went through 2 packs of cigarettes all by myself.

12:10 PM: Start to clean up patio.

12:35 PM: Still trying to figure out who I had called the night before. Enemy? Friend? I have more enemies than friends so the odds aren't in my favor.

1:07 PM: I have GOT to get some aspirin or Tylenol. And cigarettes. Try to find car keys. And purse. Great. Can't find either.

1:20 PM: Find both in the front seat of my car which is unlocked. Oh f**k. Did I drive somewhere last night? Check the grill and bumpers for dents and scratches.

1:33 PM: Head to store to buy cigarettes and painkillers. Can barely drive because the sun is so bright. Sunglasses don't help. Wonder how other people do it. This alcohol thing. How do other people function so well after a night of drinking and yet I can't?

1:48 PM: Get into store. Damn the lights are bright. And it's loud in here, too. And everyone is moving so fast. Why is everyone in such a hurry? Why is everyone so energized? Why do I always feel like shit?

1:50 PM: Spend 20 minutes on the analgesic aisle because my brain can't focus enough to decide between Advil and Extra Strength Tylenol. Hey! Is that a new hangover remedy on that shelf?

2:10 PM: Analgesic aisle is right next to the liquor aisle. Coincidence?

2:11 PM: I need a drink. But I must be out of my mind to think I'm going to buy more alcohol feeling the way I do.

2:12 PM: Stoli is on sale. So is Corona.

2:15 PM: Decide to purchase both. But I won't drink them until the weekend. I am going to go home, take a hot bath, fix a hot meal, get to bed early, get up early, go to work early, work late to make up for being such a loser of an employee, go to the gym, won't drink until weekend...

2:25 PM: Stand in aisle at checkout counter. Try not to make eye contact with cashier. Assume that she is judging me for my bloodshot eyes, stringy hair, and stench of stale booze seeping from my pores. Hope that she doesn't comment on the Stoli and Corona. Wish to God that she would hurry up.

3:17 PM: Arrive home after checking out of store and running through a Taco Bell. Too hungry to wait to fix a homemade meal.

4:00 PM: Vegetate on couch while watching Oprah. Plan on traveling to Chicago someday to see the Oprah show. Wonder how the women in her audience always look so polished.

5:01 PM: Begin to hear the hum of rush hour traffic out my window. Look at clock. Where did the day go?

5:08 PM: I need a drink.

5:11 PM: I'm only going to have one.

5:17 PM: My mind races as I reach for the bottle on the counter. You're such a loser Kristin. You can't even go one day without a drink. But it's only one. Just to take the edge off. Every bar downtown is going to be packed with happy hour participants. Why should I be any different? Everybody does it.It's only one.

5:45 PM: Sit at computer with drink in hand. Look at clock. Nearly 12 hours since I came to. I have accomplished nothing of value.

5:57 PM: The alcohol is starting to kick in. My body no longer aches. The headache is starting to go away. My mood elevates. Ease and comfort.

6:12 PM: Just one more...

drunk dream

2011-01-25T22:13:00.003-05:00

For the record, I haven't had a drunk dream in over 15 years. Yet, for me, the drunk dream is so powerful, that I have never forgotten how it will shake me to the core.

I had one last night.

Where it came from, I don't know. I have been through my fair share of stress in recovery; Lord knows the last year and a half could have driven anyone to drink. But why THAT particular dream, last night...I don't know.

But it was a winner, let me tell you.

It was filled with all the typical drunk dream-y scenarios: driving drunk, sexual escapades, the thoughts of "But I have been sober for 10 years, I can't blow it all now!!!" the crazy drunken behaviour, the hangover, the thoughts of "Holy gOd, what have I done?"

But the worst part was how real it all felt. I remember every second of the dream and I particularly remember the "morning after" and the sense of devastation over relapsing and the amount of wreckage I had accumulated in just 24 hours.

But what shook me most of all was the thought I had during the dream-state morning after of "I don't have it in me to get sober again. And I know I can't drink."

I don't have it in me to get sober again, and I know I can't drink.

So where does that leave me?

I have some thoughts on why I had this dream and they are related to an issue that I won't discuss on the blog. Just let it be said: I am grateful I had it. It shook me up and it woke me up and that's exactly what I needed right about now.

how did I miss this?

2011-01-20T20:25:00.006-05:00

I don't know if I should file this one under WTF? or maybe I'm just out of touch. Did anybody else out there know about this magazine?

I'll be watching

2011-01-18T17:33:00.005-05:00

My boss, who was also my good buddy, died six days ago. We all knew it was coming, but the hole left by his parting is gaping and filled with sadness. In the last year of his illness, he was on disability and would spend everyday up at the spa, just hanging out. We were his friends AND his family.

I am no stranger to death, but his death leaves me feeling confused and lost. I was accustomed to seeing his mint green hybrid pull into the lot every afternoon, see him wander in to the spa and then either hang out in the office talking to S. Or at the front desk talking to K. Or on the couch in the lobby talking to me. He was generous and serious and funny and calm and smart and introspective and a million other things.

He promised me a year ago, when we contemplated the end, that he would send me a sign to let me know that he was around. I just want to let him know: I'll be watching.

just a simple request

2011-01-13T22:15:00.002-05:00

Dear gOd,

Please turn my brain off for just 5 minutes. Please?

I would really appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Kristin H.

full disclosure

2011-01-10T21:52:00.003-05:00

I think it only fair to the blog to be up front about an AA related matter.

Went to a meeting this morning that just absolutely irritated the snot out of me. I know I come across all pollyanna-ish about AA related issues, and believe me when I say that 99.9% of the time, I am. But the meeting this morning set the stage for monumental disharmony. The only thing I gained out of it was an invigorated desire to RUN, not walk, to my AA homegroup tomorrow night.

The building smells like motor oil and moth balls. It has the loudest HVAC system in the area, which means that every time the heater/air conditioner kicks on, you have to strain to hear what's being said. And if that's not bad enough, everyone in that meeting mumbles. I don't know if it's because it's so damn early in the morning that no one is awake yet, or if everyone is just clinically depressed. But they were all a bunch of Low Talkers.

Then to add insult to serious injury, one of the newcomers started in on a mini-lead that finally had to be shut down by one of the oldtimers because, well, it went on FOREVER and he had NO POINT. Awkward.

The one saving grace about that meeting is the pastries.

I'm probably going to hell for even writing this.

I swear to gOd I will keep coming back.

update

2011-01-08T22:18:00.004-05:00

I am aware that a great deal of time has passed since I have posted anything of substance on this blog. Not that I imagine anyone really cares, but on the off chance that anyone wonders....

I turned down the acceptance into nursing school that I had received last April. I was still numb and reeling from my separation, finances were questionable, and I simply wasn't mentally prepared to take on any more responsibility. I am applying again this month for the next term. Unfortunately, my earlier acceptance is null and void. I must start over. So be it.
I bought a house of my own that I moved into the first week of December. The transition was hell, I tell you. HELL. I get twitchy even thinking about it, so I'll leave it at that. But lets just say that I will never again move from a third floor anything, without an elevator, during a snow storm, with minimal help. Ever.
I dropped a fair amount of weight after the separation last year, all of which came flying back on after the first of the year. The weight must come off. I don't have a real hard and fast plan as to how that's going to happen but I imagine my chocolate ganache and brie diet will have to come to a grinding halt. ::sigh::
I turned 41 on January 2nd and I don't feel a damn bit different. Although I'm thinking of convincing myself that I'm really down about the whole Into My Forties thing and go buy myself a really bitching pair of Frye boots that I've been wanting.
Celebrated 10 years of sobriety on October 1st. That one felt good.
Have remained busy at the spa and am immensely grateful for that. It has been a rough year for our small staff-family in that a key figure in our ownership team is losing his battle with Melanoma. Hospice has been called in and we have been preparing for his final days.
Continue to look for opportunities to be of service in my daily life. It's the only thing that keeps me right size and out of my head. Many days it's nothing more than setting up chairs and making coffee at meetings, but I'll take what I can get.

To all the new readers that I have seen on the blog....

Sobriety is the beginning, not the end. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

a first

2010-12-30T19:13:00.004-05:00

I went through one of these tonight.

Just wanted to say, that for a girl who use to go to great lengths to avoid these, and had NEVER been through one sober...

Damn, it felt good.

the "not such a christmas post" post

2010-12-24T22:12:00.003-05:00

I have nothing to say when it comes to the topic of Christmas. It's not that I'm anti-holiday, it's just that I believe that we can all agree that it has all been said.

The gratitude post about our thankfulness for family and abundance.

The I-hate-holiday-traffic-and-Walmartians post.

The post about what Christmas IS REALLY ALL ABOUT and the sad reality of what it has become.

No, this post is simply to say that I miss discussing recovery with you all.

Unfortunately, I have absolutely no idea what to write about.

Any thoughts?

just sign right there...

2010-11-30T18:17:00.003-05:00

One hour ago I bought a house.

Seriously. As in, one hour ago I signed my name on the final document in the lawyer's office overlooking the river whilst sitting next to my loan agent and realtor.

It's not the first house I have owned but it will be different on many levels.

The most important being that alcohol will not cross the threshold of my home. If my guests want to drink, they can take it down the hill to one of many bars in the greater Charleston area. This might seem extreme to some, but one must understand that I have never lived in an environment without alcohol. Never. This will be the first time, aside from my apartment, that I will have a truly sober environment; a home free of triggers for me.

For that, I am grateful.

'yet'

2010-11-26T22:28:00.003-05:00

I don't want to drink today.

I'm not in any real danger of that, but I can assure you that I am surrounded by the evidence that supports the possibility.

No one alcoholic is immune from the 'yet.' I learned that tonight.

That is all.

nearly 6 months later....

2010-11-25T18:23:00.003-05:00

The truth is that I can't delete my blog.

Occasionally, I wander over here to look at it. Not often. Just from time to time. Sort of like when the kids go off to college, and mom wanders in to their room every so often just to look. Its just that I spent so much time working on it...the layout, the links, the header, the POSTS....

I can't bring myself to delete it.

So I am going to take this opportunity to write a few words. One is that a lot has happened in the last few months and I am overwhelmed with the business of living. Nothing earth shattering; just life.

The second is that I am very grateful for the opportunity to spend another sober day on this earth.

That's pretty much it. I wish anyone who happens upon this post a very warm and happy holiday season. And hopefully a sober one. The sober ones are WAY better ;-)

goodbye

2010-06-11T08:54:00.003-04:00

5 minutes ago I turned my blog into a book.

My attachment to the blog has lessened considerably now that I have something tangible to remember it by.

There is no big mystery as to why I have decided to stop blogging. No hidden meaning. No resentments. No anything. I've just run out of things to say.

Thank you, to all, for your support over the last two years. Comments can be emailed to me at jillijavaandthegardenofeden @ gmail dot com.

I leave you with my favorite passage from Alcoholics Anonymous:

THE A.A. PROMISES

If we are painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed before we are half way through. We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness. We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others. That feeling of uselessness and self pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.

Are these extravagant promises? We think not. They are being fulfilled among us—sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. They will always materialize if we work for them.

Stay sober and take care.

Kristin H.

step two: where you least expect it

2010-06-05T21:41:00.000-04:00

Every so often, I revert back to agnosticism. I can go years believing in gOd, then within a matter of weeks, get caught up in a wave of disbelief so strong that I begin to question my sanity as well.

In AA, a belief in gOd is not critical, but a belief in a power greater than one's self is.

I turned to T. B. at a meeting on Friday and said, "I'm having issues with Step 2. I want to speak with you about that."

The meeting was ready to begin and I didn't have time to elaborate.

This evening, I found this.

Enough said.

transition

2010-05-31T10:17:00.000-04:00

Blogging started, for me, as a way to connect with the outside world when I was a stay-at-home mom with two little children. I wasn't able to get to as many meetings as I would have liked and the kids were simply too young to attend meetings with me. It was also a way to chronicle my life in brief, real-time snippets that I could have on record in the event that my kids ever wanted to understand Mom's day to day experiences.

A lot has changed over the last year. I work out of the home now and more often than not, my days are long. I will be at the clinic from 8:00 AM until 6:00 PM many days out of the week. When you are commission-only, you work when the clients present themselves. I get spotty cell phone reception in my cave at the clinic and by the time I am done with work, I am starving for sunlight and conversation that doesn't revolve around people's aches and pains.

My weekends are busy with the kids, and, now that they are older, I can bring them to the occasional meeting and let them run around the adjacent rooms.

My point? I'm not at home as much anymore. Not at home = less blogging.

I'm fine. I'm sober. I'm busy.

Have a great week. Don't drink.

2010-05-25T21:28:00.000-04:00

I don't feel like talking about nursing school.

I'm not sure what I want to write about. Maybe my new haircut?

It looks a lot like this:

I look a lot like that anyway. The new haircut just pulls it all together.

I didn't go in asking for a Joan Jett. It just kind of happened. I'm OK with that.

I have missed my home group for the last two weeks in a row and I'm starting to get pissy. I have had my kids on my home group night since their dad is traveling and I don't want to bring them to that meeting.

Instead, I bring them to a Wednesday night meeting that has a daycare downstairs with a battery operated John Deere tractor that they can ride.

They think AA is the coolest. I told them that not all meetings come equipped with such righteous toys.

The 6 year old came barreling up the stairs at last week's meeting and said,

"They have leg-less bears!"

Of course they do.

She was referring to the ginormous bear chairs that look like a cross between a stuffed animal and a bean bag.

Leg-less bears.

Have a great week. Don't drink.

nursing school

2010-05-18T19:33:00.002-04:00

I was accepted.

::big sigh::

(deep breath)

More on this later....

backyard high

2010-05-10T08:20:00.000-04:00

This year, for Mother's Day, instead of waiting for over 45 minutes for an available table at our local Bob Evans, I opted for a day trip into my own backyard.

I packed a bag of Triscuits, squeeze cheese, water, and gum (don't ask) and headed here and here.

We had the entire lake to ourselves albeit too cold to do anything in it.

The beauty of the day was that I slept in until after 9:00. Had bacon, eggs, and gourmet coffee for breakfast. Left shortly after lunch time and was at the lake a little after 1:00 PM.

The biggest surprise of the day? The Taco Bell outside of Ansted is the best. Taco Bell. ever. Since they probably prepare only 12 orders daily being as how they are in the middle of nowhere, I imagine the high schoolers on shift were feeling ambitious. And generous.

Believe me when I say that if I were still smoking pot and got the munchies, I would totally drive the 40 minutes to get there.

Having had my children in recovery, I have never known a Mother's Day drunk or hungover. Days like yesterday make me grateful for my sobriety.

Happy Sober Monday.

how did I miss this?

2010-05-03T08:09:00.006-04:00

Once again, another entry under How Did I Miss This?

I had ganache tonight.

The other night I had a steak with sautéed scallops and shrimp in a oyster butter sauce. Goat cheese was involved as well. It bordered on a spiritual experience.

But back to the ganache.

People, why am I the last to know about these things? I mean, seriously. And please don't insult me by saying, "Oh yes! Ganache! Hank and I order the chocolate cake with ganache filling all the time when we dine at so and so restaurant!"

Folks, let me give you a tip (since no one else is sharing personal information,) when you have a really great experience: let others know. Like, if you happen across a super hairdresser, a great beach resort, or ~~some great pot~~ a good massage therapist.

In the words of of our AA founders: pass. it. on.

I'm not even a fan of chocolate and yet I can't believe I made it to the age of 40 before experiencing this 8th wonder of the world.

That is all.

flashback

2010-04-28T09:38:00.002-04:00

My post the other day got me thinking of a post I wrote some time back. As I went into my archives, I found that it was written one year ago today.

Flashback.

the Fun Bobby experience

2010-04-26T10:00:00.001-04:00

In my profession, it is nearly impossible to stay completely anonymous. After years of treating the same clients week after week, month after month, my life begins to open up to them and they share more of their life as well.

There are certain 'no go' topics. As an individual who prefers to remain private, there are some things that I simply do not share. My sobriety is not one of them. If the topic of addiction comes up in a conversation with a client, I will break my anonymity. I have found over the years that the positives outweigh the negatives in this regard.

Case in point: one client has been seeing me off and on for a couple of years. She is a thirty-something urbanite who works for a high-end law firm downtown. She's young, pretty, stylish, hip, and single. She's a fixture in the downtown party scene and will share openly her misadventures in dating. Over the years, I have heard about the breakup of her long term relationship, her work life, personal struggles with trying to quit smoking, and all the various physical ails that she is trying to address through massage. She is talkative and witty and loves to ask me about recovery related issues and all things AA.

I wasn't prepared for what she told me two sessions ago.

She mentioned to me in the middle of a massage that she had told her therapist she is tired of drinking and is questioning it's role in her life. She states that the therapist suggested to her that she try quitting for a week just to see what happens.

The client wasn't prepared for what happened.

She had become Fun Bobby.

I couldn't help but laugh when she told me this. I apologized, but told her that just the other day I had been thinking of the Fun Bobby episode where the Friends realized why Bobby was so much fun.

Bobby - booze = bore.

This poor girl was a mixture of emotions and I could tell that she needed to share. She told me that she wasn't aware of how much of her time had revolved around the drinking experience and that she didn't know what to do with herself once that factor was removed from the equation.

Welcome to sobriety, my love. Bit of an eye opener isn't it?

She had no friends that didn't drink. She had few hobbies that didn't revolve around alcohol. She didn't know what to do with all of her free time. She was confused. I have to say that it was glorious to be able to stay silent and listen to someone share openly about their sobriety experiences. In the meetings I go to, most newcomers pass instead of sharing.

The word 'alcoholic' never passed her lips and I didn't feel the need to promote AA or hand her a meeting schedule. I was simply satisfied to listen and experience the overwhelming gratitude I felt right at that moment; because as time passes and sober life marches on, I begin to forget what the early days were like. Based on what she shared, I don't believe that she is giving up alcohol for good. But listening to her share her experience gave me what I needed on that very day.

Happy Sober Monday.

update

2010-04-14T08:02:00.003-04:00

It all started with this.

Last night it all ended with the final exam in the process to gain admittance into the program.

400 + applicants. 40 spots up for grabs.

It is out of my hands at this point and in the hands of the program coordinators. This may be the end of the road or it may be the jumping off point to the next big adventure.

Here is the part where I pull my own covers:

Some would say, "It's in gOd's hands now."

Really? Really?

Even today I still have difficulty with that concept. Even with an upbringing by a mother who constantly said, "Offer it up to gOd," I still have a hard time believing that gOd has anything to do with it.

Isn't this a situation where work experience, transcripts, and test scores trump spirituality?

Believe me when I say that I prayed my ass off last night that I do well enough on the test to get me in the door. But if I don't get in, well, that's on me.

Thoughts?

(By the way, if I don't get in, I will try again next year.)

stream of consciousness

2010-04-08T09:41:00.000-04:00

I awoke this morning thinking about the Second Step.

"Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity."

No real hard format to my thoughts. More of a stream of consciousness kind of thing.

Took the bubble of thoughts in my head to the chaise with a cup of French Roast and some raisin bread and randomly opened As Bill Sees It.

"If you arrive at A.A. with no religious convictions, you can, if you
wish, make A.A. itself or even your A.A. group your "Higher Power".
Here's a large group of people who have solved their alcohol problem.
In this respect they are certainly a power greater than you. Even
this minimum of faith will be enough.
Many members who have crossed the threshold just this way will tell
you that, once across, their faith broadened and deepened. Relieved
of the alcohol obsession, their lives unaccountably transformed, they
came to believe in a Higher Power, and most of them began to talk of
God. "

1. TWELVE CONCEPTS, P. 19
2. TWELVE AND TWELVE, PP. 27-28

So there you have it.

It shall be a Second Step kind of day.

Happy Sober Thursday....

random thoughts

2010-04-06T15:17:00.001-04:00

It's Tuesday and the kids are off to school.

I am off to work in a few.

Contrary to what my blog content depicts of late, I am still committed to recovery posts.

There are many things in life that I am deeply ~~ambiguous~~ ambivalent about (sorry chitown. Wrong choice of words.) Lima beans. Tom Petty. Brazilian bikini waxing.

But not sobriety.

Content from a certain publishing company has been going to my old address. I was handed some items from the husband just the other day and I will see to it that the reviews of these recovery items are posted as soon as I finish reading them.

How is it that I find out about all the really great shows AFTER they have been pulled off the air?

My new passion? Dead Like Me. Thank you Netflix for having it available for instant viewing.

Happy Sober Tuesday!

today's random opening...

2010-04-01T09:32:00.003-04:00

I have zero desire to discuss the emotional roller coaster that I have been on for the last few months. A roller coaster that seems to be gaining momentum within the last few weeks, in fact.

Divorce sucks.

So, in keeping with the spirit of recovery, I will shoplift today's post from my daily random opening of As Bill Sees It.

"The Only Requirement...."

In Tradition Three, A.A. is really saying to every serious drinker,
"You are an A.A. member if you say so. You can declare yourself in;
nobody can keep you out. No matter how grave your emotional
complications -- even your crimes-- we don't want to keep you out. We
just want to be sure that you get the same chance for sobriety that
we've had."

<< << << >> >> >>

We do not wish to deny anyone his chance to recover from alcoholism.
We wish to be just as inclusive as we can, never exclusive.

1. TWELVE AND TWELVE, P. 139
2. GRAPEVINE, AUGUST 1946

Today I make the choice to:

give 100% to my employer
give 100% to my children
give 100% to the meeting this evening
not dwell
pray for and assist those who ask for my help
be of service

Happy Sober Thursday....

stand and deliver

2010-03-30T22:48:00.004-04:00

I grew up just south of Garfield High School. As a high school student in the mid '80s, the influence of this man was felt throughout the southland. An inspirational movie about a real power-house of an educator.

Rest in peace.

austin, texas

2010-03-20T21:58:00.000-04:00

and surrounding areas, is where I will be this week.

See you soon.

santa maria, california

2010-03-18T21:48:00.003-04:00

There is a reader on my blog from Santa Maria, California.

Every time I see the city show up on Sitemeter, I am hit with a wave of nostalgia.

I lived in that region for a period of time and it wasn't a sober time, by any means. I was to later move to Bakersfield, California and was to live there for another ten years, but continued to make the trek back through Santa Maria to visit my parents.

I will never forget the drive out of Bakersfield and through Cuyama, which is far and away the longest drive in the world if you are hung over.

There is absolutely no point to this post other than it being a noteworthy observation and a shout out to possibly another recovering alcoholic.

Please, drop me a line and say hi.

2010-03-14T12:40:00.001-04:00

the power of a doughnut

2010-03-08T14:11:00.002-05:00

There's a group that attends the Thursday night Speaker Meeting.

It's a group of dudes that always sit in the back on the opposite side of the room from the Fellowship Home guys. I was mentioning to T that they have the look of out-of-towners yet they are there every week.

They never talk to anyone and nobody ever speaks to them. They keep to themselves and smoke as a group outside.

I made a move a couple weeks ago to approach their table and ask them where they were from. They informed me that they were from an inpatient facility in a neighboring city. I asked if they had an AA meeting at that facility that they would be willing to bring an announcement back to. They said "Sure" and took the flyer announcing the March line-up of speakers.

Last week they were back and outside smoking when I arrived to help set up for the meeting. I passed by and said, "Hey man, I got doughnuts..." at which point they followed me like a pack of stray dogs to the coffee table.

At the coffee/doughnut table they hung out and chatted with other members of the program. Rasta-Dreadlock Boy asked me if the March 11th speaker, Bill S., was the Bill S. (a local restaurateur.) I said "Yes," and Rasta Boy stated that he used to work for him and is interested in another job.

(dude, it's your lucky day....)

I took him over to T, the executive chef of one of Bill S.'s restaurants, and introduced him, stating to T, "He used to work for Bill." The two men spoke. T told Rasta Boy to show up at the restaurant and fill out an application. I saw Rasta Boy smile for the first time in weeks.

The speaker that night was a friend of mine. A gal with 1.5 years clean off of alcohol, meth, and heroin. The crowd that night was younger and hipper than most. The treasurer counted 25 women in the crowd. That's a record breaking number for that meeting. Call me crazy but I think the swing in demographics appealed to our inpatient group in the back.

Just sayin'.

It takes was it takes to keep them coming back.

Never underestimate the power of hot chicks and a doughnut.

work's kicking my ass and service

2010-03-04T09:00:00.000-05:00

Another ass kicker at work today.

First night of chairing the downtown Speaker Meeting tonight.

I'm bringing a couple dozen doughnuts.

I'm beginning to believe that our local recovery homes (both men and women) are not stressing enough the "service" component of recovery. Group house cleaning of the recovery homes is not service.

Showing up early to set up the meeting is service.

Staying late to clean up is service.

Helping to chair a meeting with your sponsor is service.

~~Washing your sponsor's car is service.~~

I have noticed that the recovery home participants are typically the last to show up at meetings and the first to leave. But they still have time to smoke before and after.

Just sayin'.

This would be a good opportunity for me to up my service work. Pick up the slack.

Graduating from your recovery home program does not mean you graduate from recovery.

Unh uh.

Not by a long shot.

You're just getting started sister (bro'.)

Ok. Enough out of me. Happy Sober Thursday bloggers!

2010-03-01T09:08:00.001-05:00

dream interpretation

2010-02-23T08:14:00.004-05:00

Panic and inadequacy dream last night.

I dreamt that I was throwing a birthday party for my daughter J and there were family members there that I hadn't seen in years. One of whom was my deceased aunt and her Denver, Colorado-living daughter. Obviously a long trip for a birthday party. In more ways than one.

Mid way through the party it became apparent that some of the party guests, including the deceased aunt and her daughter, weren't there. Someone tells me that a group of guests had taken off to do some stuff and would be back "soon." Then it occurs to me that while I had planned this big party for J, I had forgotten to get her a present. She's turning 8. You don't forget presents at an 8 year old's birthday party.

Then I get a phone call from the aunt telling me that they were stuck in traffic on the Grapevine and were trying to make it back to the party. Well, I can appreciate that except I live in West Virginia now, not Bakersfield, California. Then I'm trying to wonder why they were out there and not at the party. Someone tells me that the group had decided to go to the casino for a spell and had obviously lost track of time.

In my head I am trying to problem solve. Do I sneak out and try to get a Toys-R-Us card really quick or ask the casino goers to pick something up? Someone at the party tells me to go to Radio Shack up the road and grab a gift there. This is a great solution except I can't shake the feeling of inadequacy that comes with having forgotten to buy her a gift.

The casino group shows up within minutes.

Any thoughts?

anger

2010-02-21T09:11:00.003-05:00

I'm not one prone to anger. I rarely get angry and when I do, it typically doesn't last long. However, I am at a phase in my personal life where much is beginning bubble to the surface and I find myself going to bed angry and waking in the same bitter mood. My dreams are beginning to reflect this mindset. For me, that is a danger sign. I was plagued with nightmares throughout my childhood and I don't welcome their return.

I awoke this morning to a sweet smelling 5 year old in my bed wanting cinnamon rolls and a snuggle. Once the snuggles had commenced and the rolls were in the oven, I retired to the chaise with coffee and As Bill Sees It in hand. I opened the book to a page that the marker had fallen into when I was moving books during last week's move. The passage?

"It is plain that a life which includes deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness. To the precise extent that we permit these, do we squander the hours that might have been worth while. But with the alcoholic, whose hope is the maintenance and growth of a spiritual experience, this business of resentment is infinitely grave. We found that it is fatal. For when harboring such feelings we shut ourselves off from the sunlight of the spirit. The insanity of alcohol returns and we drink again. And with us, to drink is to die.

If we were to live, we had to be free of anger. The grouch and the sudden rage were not for us. Anger is the dubious luxury of normal men, but for us alcoholics it is poison."

~Alcoholics Anonymous, pg. 66

So much for that.

Today I will make the choice to be free of resentments. I'll let you know how that goes.

some background and some answers

2010-02-16T21:15:00.000-05:00

When I was little and growing up on the shores of southern California and vacationing on the banks of the Trinity River, I use to scrub my body with the hot sand that lined the beaches. I would slather myself in mud and bake in the sun only to rise after 30 minutes or so and rinse off in the ocean or river water. I would take the hot rocks that lined the shore and lay on them or place them upon my body. I would then bask in their warmth until every muscle in my body was like liquid. There is no telling what passerby thought of this young child (age 5? age 8?)

As an adult I have worked in brain injury rehabilitation and as a child protective services social worker. Both fields were ripe with life lessons that I have carried on into my role as a parent. Try retraining a brain injured grown man to use the toilet again only to have him scream obscenities at you on a daily basis and that's when he wasn't hurling small appliances at you from across his apartment. Deal with that kind of life skills training for four years and parenthood becomes a snap.

But through all the jobs, all the careers, the one constant is that most of my co-workers could be found at my desk looking to get their neck and shoulders rubbed. I made the decision nearly ten years ago to change career paths and go into the field of massage therapy and I haven't looked back. Now, make no mistake, I still intend on completing nursing school but the idea will be to incorporate both paths at some point in the future. My ideal job? To be a nurse practitioner at an inpatient treatment facility and oversee the development of an alternative therapies division within that facility. One of my clients is sober 6+ years and was prescribed massage therapy while in treatment to deal with her pain pill addiction. Massage therapy has saved her life and she's not the first person to have said that to me.

Why the bit in the beginning about the hot rocks and sand scrubs? My job today consists of massage therapy, hot stone therapy, salt scrubs, and mud wraps. I guess you can say I was destined.

I leave you with some answers to questions (quansers?) that clients have been asking me for years:

I could care less if you shave your legs (or back.) I've felt it all. However, significant back acne should be cleared up before receiving massage.
Talking throughout the massage impacts the efficacy of the treatment. Your breathing is compromised and the neck and jaw muscles are engaged making my job more difficult.
Please don't wear cologne or perfume.
No, my hands never hurt. They just keep getting stronger and stronger.
But my back will hurt if I do more than five treatments in one day.
Massage shouldn't hurt. If you've been to a therapist that has hurt you, find another therapist.
Some of my most tense and physically stressed clients have been children.
Consciousness creates form. Happy clients are easy to work on. Angry clients are not.
I can tell by touching you what kind of client you are.
I don't care if you fall asleep and snore. That's a compliment in Massage World.
The best way to combat neck and shoulder problems is to have a strong midsection. The thoracic region will collapse upon itself if the abs are weak. This throws the neck and shoulders forward.
Breathe from your diaphragm, not your shoulders.
Yes, I enjoy what I do.
Nearly everyone has trigger points in their neck and shoulders. Even my five year old.
Notice I said "nearly." That doesn't mean "all."
Massage can lower blood pressure.
And blood sugar. Eat a meal before your treatment.
I like all my clients. Some are more challenging than others, but I like everyone.

Did I leave anything out?

moving day

2010-02-15T14:40:00.000-05:00

I moved again this weekend. The number on the new place is 11. Anyone who knows me, knows that this is significant.

My children, gOd love 'em, ran stuff up the stairs from the old unit to the new unit. I am now on the top floor, the penthouse, in the trees, no longer at the mercy of lead-footed drunken night owls.

I awakened at 5:00 AM today with a desire to read my Big Book. I made a pot of French Roast and settled into the chaise to watch the sun rise through my new top floor windows and to read A Vision For You. It doesn't get much better than A Vision For You.

Starting my day with a healthy dose of Bill and Bob helped me to tackle a morning agenda that should have put me under.

I have a rule of never posting pictures of my family; but this one was too good to pass up.

(L watching Wizards of Waverly Place)

thanks for brightening my day

2010-02-11T10:36:00.001-05:00

Have you ever noticed how active recovery will completely change the complexion of your life? I'm talking about the hard core, balls to the wall, take-no-prisoners recovery.

I have noticed over the years, compliments of face-to-face meetings, online recovery, and actively working the steps (and with others,) that I have changed to the point that I no longer feel comfortable in certain circles. Sobriety has instilled in me a sense of gratitude and gOd consciousness that is now a 24 hour thread in the fabric of my life.

Case in point: venture out into the blogosphere and get lost in some of the political blogs. Or entertainment industry sites. Or even the mommy blogs. I should know, I started out as a Mom Blog. Without taking anyone's inventory, I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that nowhere else on the Internet will you find a group as happy, joyous, and free as you find on the recovery blogs. You might strike pay dirt on some Christian sites, but I don't hang out over there.

I start my day with this gal, this guy, and let's not forget this one and this one. There are many more. You know who you are. You are on my blogroll. I read and comment regularly. I love you all. And I know that when I visit your sites, that even when your day is in the gutter and you have a few choice words to say, more often than not you will wrap it up with a gratitude list and a shout-out to the One that helped you make it one more day.

We are not a glum lot.

Thanks for letting me share.

i need help

2010-02-09T22:40:00.005-05:00

This is what happens when Kristin H. gets into her Picasa web album and decides to review her blog history. Based on these photos alone, I'm out of control. Bear massage? Hamburger cake? Lurking Jesus? The bear is getting a massage in MY treatment room. Jesus is lurking in MY cabinet. I baked the hamburger cake. Don't even ask about the van. The "AA" ladder photo? Well, that's just cool.