Too Much Loss
If you’ve read my blog recently, you know I had to put my beloved Golden Retriever to sleep. She had been sick off and on for months. We tried medications, tests, etc. but when she was bleeding out of nose … Continue reading
If you’ve read my blog recently, you know I had to put my beloved Golden Retriever to sleep. She had been sick off and on for months. We tried medications, tests, etc. but when she was bleeding out of nose … Continue reading
I am suffering. Physically and emotionally. I have lost count of the number of times I’ve thought “fuck everything” today. I know I’ve said it aloud at least twice. I’ve also been querying the Universe, “What is the point?” I … Continue reading
My sponsor told me months ago that I needed to make a list. A list of all the things I am powerless over. I haven’t made that list. I think it’s time. I don’t know how to do this, this life thing. I am not doing this life thing well at all. But change, it’s too big, daunting. Continue reading
I’ve been a bit up and down this season. One of my best friends reminded me yesterday that a few weeks ago, I was spouting enthusiasm and good cheer. Then last week I was pissy and crabby. I’ve mellowed out a bit and now find myself somewhere in the middle. Continue reading
I spent 10 years absolutely dreading and abhorring November 1 through January 2. During those months, I would feel the loss of my family times a thousand. Everything– the music, the rituals, neighborly cheer, decorations, even family strife– drove home one singular idea– I was all alone. When my nephew was born, bless his adorable and huge heart, I began to soften. I let in a miniscule inkling of merriment. Yet I continued to drink. Hide. Numb out. Until I got desperate and sick enough to get dry. Luckily I had about seven months before my first sober holiday season. It was interesting. Painful. Weird. Continue reading
This post is an in-depth review of Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations and how it mirrors my own life. Psych! I’ve never read Great Expectations. I considered my obligatory readership of Dickens complete after Bleak House, Nicholas Nickelby, and (of course) A Christmas Carol. Nah, I am referring to the “great expectations” we humans tend to have (for ourselves and those around us). And how those “great expectations” set us up for perpetual disappointment and eventual suffering. Continue reading
What is the significance of a birthday when that person is no longer around to celebrate it? Is it just a number in an obit, a carving on a grave stone? Do we remember death dates rather than birthdays? And if so, why? Or do we recall them on all pertinent occasions and thereby, depending on our location on the grief spectrum, experience: 1) sadness; 2) anger; 3) depression; 4) disbelief; and/or 5) a bittersweet/healthy acknowledgment of that person and what they meant/mean to you? Continue reading
A large part of my recovery has been a re-learning of social “norms.” Turns out I A large part of my recovery has been a re-learning of social “norms.” Turns out I used alcohol as a lubricant for nearly all human interactions. Once I dried up and out, I had to acclimate. I was forced to not only address what was going on in my crazy mind and talk about it so I could stay sober, but I had to figure out how to play with others. Continue reading
For a few days following my Happy Birthday To Me post, I was in a little bit of a funk. Nothing major. Just a bit remorseful, lethargic, and irritated. Not about or at anything or anyone in particular. In general. Which is precisely what happens when I fail to consistently practice “good self care.” Continue reading
When I drank, I’m sorry was a go-to phrase. I’m sorry I got so drunk and embarrassed you in front of your friends, and so forth. I’m sorry was always followed by I was drunk. I don’t remember doing that. I am going to stop drinking. People get real tired of the I’m sorrys and the vows to stop drinking. Laughably predictable, the words mean shit. Continue reading