My Reassurance

I wrote this post on December 10, 2018.  I can’t tell you what led up to me stumbling across this post today but for what it’s worth, this is a MAJOR God shot and another confirmation that I am exactly where I need to be. There is nothing wrong with me and I’m okay.  In fact, I’m better than okay.  

I’m redeemed.


I had some major deja vu yesterday morning.

I woke up at 4:30 AM…again…as I have been every day for the past I don’t know how many weeks, for a while now.

I’m not complaining though, I love it! It is my absolute favorite time of the day. There is a woman I’ve watched in AA for years now…well…not so much recently but I still read her thought provoking texts every single morning. She always shares how mornings are her favorite part of her day. Of all the things she has said that I had rolled my eyes at, that was never one of them. I have always loved mornings too…well…when I wasn’t hungover.

Or a mom to two girls.

Their cries, fights, screams, whines and incessant demands have helped me see the value in silence, which has made me love the mornings even more. The sound of silence, oh how I savor thee.

So it’s 4:30 and I’m awake. I settle in to do my morning “spiritual fitness” routine which goes a little something like this:

1. Read devotional of the day from “New Morning Mercies” by Paul David Tripp. 

2. Read Bible verse noted at bottom of devotional.

3. Read daily reflections from the AA Spiritual Toolkit App.

4. Read daily meditation from “A Woman’s Spirit” by Karen Casey.

5. Pray

As I sat in reflection, I turned to H and mentioned just how much I loved getting up so early and then hit the deja vu: that exact moment felt strangely familiar and yet different at the same time. Wasn’t it about a year ago that I was doing the same exact thing?

I had to go look at my IG feed and by golly, it was! 1 year and 4 days ago to be exact, I was getting up around 4:30-5 every morning, on my own, no alarm clock and spending time with God with a fire blazing in the fireplace. I didn’t understand why then but I sure AF do now.

1 year ago, I was begging God to take over because, while I was still without a sip of alcohol in, at the time, almost 6 years, I was miserable on so many levels.

Confused.

Distraught.

Remorseful.

Scared.

Sad.

Tired.

Lost.

I prayed for a miracle.

I remember feeling the presence of God with me one morning as I was praying in the fetal position, face down in my hands on the carpet. I had this vision of him wrapping his arms around me and say “it’s going to be okay, my child. You are going to be okay.  Just keep doing everything you are doing. Don’t stop. You are going to be alright.”

It wasn’t long after that I wrote a blog post after a 5 week hiatus of NO writing.  It was only my 5th post published on New Year’s Eve and I was in a lot of fear.

Since then, the entire year of 2018 has been nothing short of mini miracles, one after another.  And this entire time, as I have grown in my faith and recovery, I still will hear in my head, “it’s all a lie. God does not exist. How can there really be a God who can do such miraculous things?”

It’s still hard for me to wrap my head around, it really is, but my faith is strong enough today to realize where that voice is coming from and what I have to do to make it go away: rebuke, read and reflect.

You guys, the last paragraph of my devotional started with the following sentence:

“So don’t let any evil enemy whisper lies into your ears.”

THEN the accompanying Bible reference was a story in 2 Kings and once again, God revealed himself to me like he always does; reassuring me that indeed He’s STILL here with me, He IS real and He IS at work in my life in miraculous ways.

And theeeennnnn the daily reflections (DR), OH. MY. GOSH. Look. Just look.

If you only knew what the year 2018, 2019 and 2020 has looked like for me, your mind would be blown just as much as mine is by this DR. It’s really quite amazing and hard to put into words but I’m going to try as this blog unfolds.

I have so much I want to share and I know it’s been a while.  Let me reassure YOU that I’m still here and I still haven’t picked up a drink.

I want to also reassure you..well..no, I guess this will be the first time I’m saying it: I really don’t care to talk about my marijuana usage any longer…for now anyway.  Is it still part of my life? Yes. Does it rule my life or my recovery for that matter? No. Will I mention it again? Probably. Why? Because it’s still a PART of the story. That’s why.

I’m still in the “what happened” portion of my story and I’m not done yet; there is still more to share. Before I get into “what it’s like now,” I invite you to visit Skeletons Part 2.12 for a little review. Seriously…please go read it after you finish this post.

Then I may or may not go into more details about the list of 12 things that happened in 2018 before I jump into 2019 and tell you more cool “shtuff” that happened when I accepted my alcoholism, surrendered my will over to the care of God as I understand Him and got honest in the rooms of AA.

Who knows, maybe my story will help you in your recovery too.

That IS how it works, after all.

#morewillberevealed

P.S. The 5th post I mentioned above is also worth a read because I talk about our Elf, Gidget, and how we do “Elf on the Shelf” in OUR house. You can find it by visiting the My Story page, titled Disclaimer. This is year number 3 and we are having so much fun with it; so much so that I decided to give Gidget her own page to showcase the shenanigans she’s gotten into and the notes she and A1 have been leaving for each other.

So much growth this past year…so much growth!

Skeletons 3.6: My Reactiveness -Part 1

I started this post about a year ago and the time has come to finish it.

I think I have a legit anger problem.  At 7+ years sober, I only just recently figured this out about myself a couple weeks ago.

H had pissed me off about something that, of course, I can’t remember now.  I was (and still am) trying to quit smoking cigarettes. So naturally, my go to when I am mad at him is to rebel. I went, bought a pack, took them home and puffed 2 down in a matter of 10 minutes (or less!)

I felt guilty after and it hit me right then and there: wow, anger is a major trigger for me.

Just like I did when I drank.  I drank AT people, places and things.


I have now been sober from alcohol for 8.5 years.  Exactly 102.06 months, 3,106 days and 74,549 hours.

And guess what?!? 15 days ago, I hit 2 years clean from Adderall.

Both of those are miracles but I’ve got even a better one that I cannot wait to tell you about.

Up until 4 months ago, I was still struggling with my anger management.  While I was no longer experiencing episodes of rage, I was still allowing my emotions to get the best of me; leaving me filled with tremendous guilt, shame, and remorse.

Earlier this year, we had house guests for the whole month of February.  Towards the end of their stay, I was ready for things to “go back to normal” and wasn’t coping very well.  My husband had been following the virus infiltrating our country and preparing our home for the impending lockdowns; and like many Americans in the early days, I didn’t truly understand the severity of what we were facing and that ” going back to normal” was never going to happen.

One week left in February and my car was towed from outside my house.  I was enraged.  The next morning, upon arriving at the tow lot, I saw that the gate was open.  So instead of going into the office to pay for the release of my car, I decided I would just walk on the lot and take it.

Adrenaline had taken over and aint’ nobody was going to stop me.  I was immediately approached by a man who told me I wasn’t allowed in there and I walked right past him and told him I was just getting my wallet – which – was a lie.  I was literally going to steal my own car.  

Long story short, I shared some choice words with the manager and then immediately fell apart into a puddle of tears.  And guess what? My car wasn’t there.  It was at their other lot.  When we got to the other lot, I was met with what looked like an intercom.  I could hear the woman inside dealing with another customer as I pushed the button.

No answer.

I push it again.

No answer. 

My husband suggests that maybe the other lot had called and warned them that I was coming, which incensed me even more.  So I started pushing the button non stop. The woman finally responds out the door “I’m with a customer, I’ll be with you soon” and how did I respond?

Me: “THAT’S ALL YOU HAD TO F&%$ING SAY!”

Her: “Don’t you talk to me like that! Just for that, you’re gonna sit out there longer!”

I was already crying and now I’m sitting on the curb, in the fetal position, balling, as my family watched from the car.  “Longer” was just a couple minutes and then I was let in.  I apologized for cussing at her and she nearly cut me off and said “do not use that language again” or something to that effect, to which I replied “I just apologized.” 

I went on to explain that the reason I was so upset was because the last time I had my car towed was because I had been arrested for my second DUI and now 9 years later, it’s being towed from outside my house because of my service to another; never mind that I was breaking rules I never took the time to learn.  The woman seemed cold – she couldn’t care less.  I wanted her to join my pity party and she was declining my invite.

When we went to retrieve my wallet, I apologized again and she acknowledged that the button I pushed over and over looks like an intercom, so she understood why I felt like I was being ignored. 

But I still couldn’t really get myself together.  I was on the verge of tears the entire time.  When departing in the lot, I don’t remember what I said to her as I let the tears start rolling down my face again.  But I do remember what she said,

“It’s going to be okay. Just pray.”

My heart burst open.  I said “I love Jesus and I do pray.” 

And then we hugged. 

#morewillberevealed

My Recovery Rock Bottom – Part 3

Here’s the third of five UN-edited articles that I’ll be sharing before I shut down my blog for re-construction. It was composed in October, 2019.


“You wouldn’t know, you’re not a mother.”

My friend was right.  She was a mom in the depths of toddler hell and I was childless.

What you don’t know is, I had suffered a miscarriage less than 6 months prior and was actively trying to get pregnant again – I wanted to be a mother more than anything.

But she did know.  She knew that and she uttered those hurtful words anyway because she was struggling with something I knew nothing about. Which is funny because, I ALSO was struggling with something she knew nothing about. She didn’t have to “try” for a baby and she never knew what it was like to lose one either. I don’t remember if I pointed that out to her then or not. My guess is, I did.

I called my husband on my way to work to invite him to my daily pity party of 1:

“Can you believe she’d say that?” (waaaah waaaah) “She KNOWS how bad I want a baby!” (waaaaaaaaah)

What you also don’t know is, I had already polished off the wine from the night before. But he did.

“Have you been drinking?”

Of course I lied. I lied all the time about my drinking. But everyone close to me knew I was an alcoholic. Down deep, even I knew, but I was drowning in a sea of denial at the same time.

Less than 6 months later, I got my second DUI on my 32nd birthday. 2 days later, my husband told me he thought it best to wait 6 months to get pregnant. Devastation is an understatement. I wanted to get hammered but instead, cried myself to sleep because it had been decided for me that I was done drinking. Sure, I could have drank but I did not want to deal with the consequences…not that weekend, anyway.

I went on to relapse a handful of times over the next two months and for some reason, my husband changed his mind on baby making.  I picked up a sponsor to make everyone think I was serious about sobriety (cuz I wasn’t) and she highly suggested I wait a year to get pregnant.

What do you think this dry drunk girl did?

1 month later, I saw 2 lines and it wouldn’t be too long until I would experience the challenges that come with ages 0-5 that my friend was lamenting about just before she dropped that insensitive statement on me.

Do I regret getting pregnant in my first year of recovery? Of course not!  God did for me what I could not do for myself.  I’m convinced that had I not gotten pregnant, I would have drank again and again; causing more wreckage along the way.

That being said, I’m also positive that had I put more effort into my recovery that first year, I would have been better equipped with tools to handle life when it got harder after we brought home baby #2.

Because being a mother is hard AF. I cannot imagine doing it drunk.

Being a mother (with alcoholism) without a complete reliance on a Higher Power proved to be unbearable. For me anyway. Hence the name of this series – My Recovery Rock Bottom.

2 more posts and a final “sign off” before I shut down my page for all things new.

#morewillberevealed

My Recovery Relapse – Adderall

First thing first: I have failed at every attempt to quit smoking and have quit quitting for now. Do I still desire to quit? Yes and I have a new plan that I’ll tell you about in another post. Go on, roll your eyes. I am.

Anyway,  I’ve been sitting on this post for a long time; unsure if I would even go here but I’m so clear that I must in order to keep this blog going so, here we go.

My MO is to write a novel and tell you every single detail about the rise and fall of Red, a nickname given to me by my former ROD; one of my besties of all besties who is no longer my bestie. Red was a nickname she gave me the morning of one of my final interventions. Pixie was gone for good so for the past 8 years, it was a “thing” in our friendship. One of many “things” that only we got entirely. I adopted it as my “rebellious sober alter ego” because, as you know by now, I haven’t been “clean and sober” this whole time.

I still haven’t drank but I’ve dabbled with other things along with my MJ usage during recovery; and Adderall was the one that took me down. Like, way.the fuck.down. So rather than divulging all the ugliness, I’ll give you the standard version: what it was like, what happened, and what it’s like now.

What it Was Like

It had been years since I had used Adderall when I found out one of my friends had access to it.  I think I was in my 6th year alcohol free.  My friend (who wasn’t in recovery, yet) would buy them off her friend who needed money and then she’d turn around and sell some to me.  It was the magic pill that gave me the energy and motivation to pick up my disaster of a house or tackle projects I had been putting off.  It inspired extreme creativity and gave me a sense of euphoria that, in my mind, allowed me to be a more upbeat, pleasant person to be around.  I was also on it when I started this blog.  Remember my very first post? Quite positive I was totally strung out when I wrote that.

I’m so glad I was though.  This is going to sound weird but I’m so grateful for Adderall. If it weren’t for that drug, this blog would not exist. And if this blog didn’t exist, I can tell you right now, I’d probably be drunk right now. Or in jail. Or dead.

Anyway, it was fun while it lasted but then, as most addiction stories go, it had me and started having a negative impact on my life.

What Happened

I don’t even know where to start.  The consequences I suffered in this addiction were different than when I was drinking.  They were rather subtle but looking back, more damaging. I didn’t lose my license or freedom as a result of my Adderall addiction, however, I did lose my friendship with ROD but that was a long time coming anyway so I won’t even expand on that consequence.

While my alcoholism progressed slowly over the years, my pill addiction progressed much faster. I became painfully aware of how much I was risking on my way home from picking up a stash one day. I had to stop for gas right off the freeway.  I saw a rather disheveled woman approach a truck and then I heard “SURE!”  She proceeded to get in the truck and it exited the parking lot ever so slowly as another disheveled man crept around the parking lot watching the truck’s every move.

I instantly knew what was going on. She was turning a trick for her and her boyfriend’s next fix. It hit me “you are witnessing the very lengths people will go to for their drugs and that could be you if you don’t stop this shit.”  I had just driven almost 2 hours round trip to get this stash and I’m pretty sure I had my girls in the car too. My gosh, it hurts to write that.

I don’t know how much longer I kept using after that incident but I can tell you that I already knew I had a problem but I was in denial of how bad and wasn’t ready to quit.  I knew the time was coming soon though because I couldn’t keep living the way I was living.  The Adderall, it had turned on me.  It was no longer giving me the same positive effects and yet I kept going back for more, losing countless hours in the pursuit of what what it used to be like.  I became very paranoid and would have fits of rage and uncontrollable sob fests out of nowhere.  I picked everything my husband said apart and accused him of being a narcissist.  My daughters witnessed and were on the receiving ends of my extreme highs and lows and my coworker didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me.  I was a mess.

Truth be told, my life was already a mess. All of my feelings were real, just amplified and the drugs made me think things were way worse than they really were.  I should mention that I was also on Wellbutrin at the time and smoking weed to come down from the highs, so, needless to say, my brain chemistry was jacked.  Then I watched a Netflix special on Adderall and found out it is one ingredient short of meth. Awesome.

“I’m basically a meth addict” is what I told myself and then instantly rationalized why I wasn’t and kept using it. For how much longer?  I don’t know. Unlike my drinking, nothing specific happened that made me or anyone say “okay, you’re done!”  All I know is, the day I knew would come finally came.  I told my friend to never sell them to me again and I’ve been clean from it since September 15, 2018.

What It’s Like Now

Today, I am happy, joyous and getting freer every day.  I most certainly haven’t done it alone; I couldn’t.  The last weekend I took Adderall, I was on an overnighter with my sponsor doing step work.  My recovery program was just getting started and I had no idea it would be my last weekend using.  I think that’s pretty cool.  God was very much present during that trip and has been guiding my path ever since.

But I’m still very addicted to other things that are having negative impacts on my life, and I’m ashamed to admit, they mirror those from my pill addition:

Loss of appetite, resulting in “hanger,” which leads to loss of control of my thoughts and worst of all, ability to remain calm when triggered.

And who suffers the most from this?

My daughters.

Enough is enough.

Coffee and cigarettes, you gots to go.

For real this time.

#morewillberevealed

My Recovery Relapse – Cigs

Step 1 – We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable. (BB, pg. 59 )

It’s been one month and 2 days since I posted and I should be over 30 days without a cigarette.  But, of course, I am not.

In the past month, I haven’t been able to go longer than 2 days without breaking down and satiating the cravings.  I have purchased and thrown away several packs; as well as purchased and smoked several packs. I’ve reset my quit date in my quit smoking app a gazillion times and wouldn’t you know, I just did AGAIN!  I made it about 20 hours before the opportunity presented itself and I was lighting up.

What’s wrong with me!?!?!?!

HA!  I’m kidding.  Nothing is WRONG with me, I’m just an addict.

I’m an addict who normally needs to be backed into a corner before taking the steps necessary to make a serious change.

An addict who walks the line as long as I can until something really bad happens and I am forced to change.

An addict who has been in recovery long enough to know NOW that there is no “easier, softer way” to drastic change. I MUST be willing to do whatever it takes and as I said in my last post, I want to 12 step this bitch, so let’s get on with it already.

But before I do, I need to let another skeleton out of the closet because, well, this is the “Recovery Relapse Series” and I’ve hit another milestone not many people know about and that is this:

Today, September 16th, 2019, marks 1 whole year clean from Adderall.

You guys…I so want to talk about this right now but I can’t. It’s late and it’s not on topic. We’re talking about my cig addiction right now, the one I’m still fighting to quit! But my Adderall addiction is a huge part of my story and if I’m being totally honest, this blog wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for Adderall.

Sooooooo, yeah, I gotta talk about it. But, like I said, later, ok?

I gotta go smoke ANOTHER final cig, destroy ANOTHER pack of cigarettes & change my date AGAIN before hitting the hay.

Step 1 – I am powerless over cigarettes and my life has become unmanageable.

How?

Click here.

#morewillberevealed

P.S. In case you were wondering, I’m still a grateful recovering alcoholic who has been AF for 7.46 years and practices MMR (for now) and goes to AA.

That’s 89.60 months without wine…

…2,727 days without a cocktail &

65,447 hours without a single drop of alcohol touching my dry, wrinkled 39 year old smoker lips.

Yeah, no, I’m still keeping my date sobriety date…for now.

 

 

Skeletons 3.4 – My Resolution

Resolution (past & present): How can we possibly summon the resolution and willingness to get rid of such overwhelming compulsions and desires? – 12&12, Step 7, p.73 

Up until March 30th, 2012, I had made many attempts at quitting the drink for various stretches of  time.  I talk about my final relapses in Part 2 of My Story, but there were many more during my drinking career.  However, I would not have considered them relapses back then because, well, the intention was never to be done for good.  I was always motivated by a major binge weekend of poor choices or a preceding consequence of some kind, wanting to prove to myself and everyone else that I wasn’t really an alcoholic ; even though in my heart of hearts, I knew I was.

So all of my “personal detoxes” and “breaks” were in vain.  I’d stay sober just long enough, to feel good enough, to drink just enough, until there was NEVER enough.

I always.wanted.more.

Things were starting to look the same with the weed and as I mentioned the other day, that did not sit well with me.  While I hadn’t suffered severe consequences from my MJ use like I did my alcohol consumption, I still did not like that I had taken it beyond harm reduction and was using it far more than I ever intended.  It really wasn’t working for me the way it used to. I had heard that’s a very risky place for an alcoholic to be and I did NOT want to drink.

This THC break, it wasn’t the first time I made an effort to “slow my roll.”  My sponsor (S3) graciously reminded me of that and suggested I not leave it out.  She said that my saying that I accepted a challenge by my friend and just quit without sharing the rest was “flippant of me,” and she was right.  I realized I better make sure to tell you the whole truth, so when I was looking for something else in my older posts, I discovered that I HAD already told you about my last 3 THC breaks. Ha! Whouldya look at that? I had forgetten (face palm.) You can read about that in Skeletons 2.15 – My Recovery Returned.

But of course, those weren’t the only times. I made multiple half ass vows with no solid motivations or accountability. For an alcoholic like me, 1 of 2 things needs to happen for me to get off my fucking ass and change the things that I don’t want to:

  1. I either need to be backed into a corner with an ultimatum with no other options, or
  2. want something so bad, I’d do anything to make it happen.

This time around, I quit MJ for reason #2.  I still wasn’t ready to quit for good so I chose to reset my tolerance in order to build the momentum I need to get after what I really want out of this gift called life. I’m almost 40 years old and I’ve wasted enough time playing small. I have dreams and aspirations to pursue and I want to make them reality…BAD! Having reached official stoner status, I knew the weed would stand in my way if I didn’t do something about it once and for all.

Tuesday, May 21st was Day 30 and in the interest of rigorous honesty, I made it 29.75 days completely THC free. On Day 30 at 6:30pm, I chose to smoke simply to see how the first time would feel after that long going without. Before I did, I prayed…HARD. I prayed for the ability to be responsible and the willingness to quit for good if I couldn’t be. I prayed for the strength to use it the way I had originally intended or not at all.  I laid it at God’s feet and said Amen.

Then I smoked. From 6:30-11:00, I took a total of 4 puffs, stayed up way past my bed time and did not go to bed stoned.

How did I feel about myself the next day?

For a moment, I felt bad. The “committee” in my head started shaming me for not making it a COMPLETE 30 days. But then I said FTS! Excluding my pregnancies and post partum, I was 100% clean and sober for the longest stretch of time, for the first time, by choice, EVER!  I am beaming with pride and full of so much hope and I’ll be damned if I let anyone take that away from me, especially my own “stinkin’ thinkin’.”

My mindset has changed drastically and I have resolved that I never want to build a tolerance to THC ever again.  I want to be able to rely on it for the medicinal benefits or for emergencies, like PMS, should I deem it necessary. Or if I am in a social environment where it’s an option and I feel like being “a part of.”  None of that is a possibility if I go back to the way it was. I’m clear and firm on that. VERY!

Therefore, I have made a resolution: if I find myself using it beyond what I just stated above, then I will walk into a meeting and raise my hand high and proclaim with confidence that I am a newcomer, have the desire to never smoke again, and change my sobriety date. Never did I ever think I’d say that but I just did.  I can’t believe it.

There God goes again, doing for me what I could not do for myself. Does it get any better than that? According to “The Promises” of Alcoholics Anonymous, you bet your sweet ass it does!

#morewillberevealed

P.S. Today is Wednesday, May 22nd and I did NOT smoke weed today. Why? Cuz I didn’t feel like it. That’s why. To God be the glory.

Skeletons 3.3 – My Recovery Reset

Well, per usual, I’ve sat on composing this post. I know exactly what I want to write about but I simply wasn’t in the mood to sit down and write the damn thing.

To be totally honest, I wasn’t in the mood to do anything because I was still stuck in the pits of depression and had zero motivation.  It takes a month (in my case, a little longer) for anti-depressants to start working.  I remember when my last Rx kicked in.  We had 2 bookcases in our play room needing to be assembled and I decided to build them both myself. I remember thinking “how am I doing this right now?”

I also noticed the change when I was outside with my daughters and was surprised at how chatty I was being with the neighbors. That’s how I knew the meds were working. I’m a people person and I love to talk but when I’m depressed, I don’t feel like being chummy with people. I just want to be invisible. I avoid eye contact, I ignore texts, I cancel or reschedule plans, etc.

Basically, I think my life sucks, therefore, I downright suck as a person.

Much like the person I was when I drank.


Today is Thursday, May 16th and I’m happy to report 2 things:

  1. On March 30th, I achieved 7 solid years of no alcohol entering my bloodstream.
  2. My new antidepressant kicked in a few weeks ago and I no longer feel like shit.

Those 2 things alone are worth sharing and celebrating but that’s not all.

Remember in my last post when I said I had stuff to talk about but I didn’t want to? And admitted that it WAS about the weed?

Well, truth be told, I became a stoner and I no longer want to be a stoner anymore.

There, I said it.

When the depression bitch slapped me into the pits of self-loathing, my MJ use escalated and my tolerance got super high.  It had stopped working for me the way it used to and that did not sit well with me.

So I quit.

That’s right, I did.

I accepted a 30 day challenge with a friend and today is day 25.

Out of these past 25 days, there were 5 days where I had the strong desire to “take the edge off” when my kids were pushing me past my limits.

And I didn’t.

You guys, that blows my f’ing mind!  Even when I was in the throws of my PMS that should have me locked up in a padded room away from all other humans, I didn’t want to smoke. “How could this be?” I wondered. I was dumbfounded but I guess that was God doing for me what I could not do for myself…AGAIN!

Does this mean I’ve been raising my hand as a newcomer in meetings and have changed my sobriety date? The answer to that is a definitive NO and here’s why:

  1. Tradition 3 of Alcoholics Anonymous states “The only requirement for membership is the desire to stop drinking.” I haven’t drank in 7 years, 1 month and 16 days. While I did not have the desire to quit drinking when I first came in, by the grace of God, I DO have the desire to never drink again. That’s why I keep going to meetings. I’m not changing my date. Period.
  2. I don’t have the desire to quit smoking pot for good. Not yet anyway. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll choose not to smoke after this 30 days is up…or maybe I’ll keep going until I feel like it again.  Or maybe I’ll smoke myself into an oblivion on day 31 and realize that I’ve been kidding myself this entire time and decide to raise my hand and change my date.  Honestly, I don’t know.

I don’t have to know.

All I know is, I needed to hit the reset button and I don’t feel like smoking today.

To me, that’s fucking rad and I’m proud!

So I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

#morewillberevealed

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Skeletons 3.2 – My Relief

**It’s been exactly one month since my last post.  I started this one a few weeks ago and I’ve been stuck.  I have a LOT to write about but I have been putting it off.  My character defects have basically been running the show and to be frank, I’m fucking sick of it. I’m sick of my perfectionism telling me this blog has to be written and read a certain way and my ego & pride standing in my way of unloading more shit that I don’t want to talk about. So here I am, with more baggage to unpack.  You ready? Cuz I’m not. But here we go.**

Relief (past and present): Laughter is the best medicine.

I haven’t been laughing as much lately. The fam and I did get into a HUGE tickle fight the other day…actually, 2 on two separate days…and those laughs were cheek burners, I tell ya. That was fun.  But other than that, eh…well…I just haven’t been in the laughing mood. Sure, I can muster a good chuckle here and there but my laugh, well, it’s never been like it was when I was pregnant with A2.  I can’t remember if I had the same laugh with A1 but with A2, oh my gosh, it was so annoyingly awesome.

For me, one of the best feelings is right after a long, hearty, from the gut, tear producing laugh.  Laughter like this makes me yawn and I feel a sense of calm and contentment after.  Sometimes I enjoy the laugh and feelings it produces so much, I’ll relive the moment by telling the story or watching whatever it was that was funny over and over just so I can “feel the feels” again and again.

Just like when I drank.

I love laughing so much, I’m attracted to people who have big, breathy laughs. Or a cackle. Ohhhh how I love me a good cackle.   If you make me laugh that way or you laugh at something I say that way, you will instantly be my homey.

Just like people who drank like me.

Laughter, it helps a hurting soul. It brings people together. It brings pockets of joy in difficult times. It lightens “the mood” in uncomfortable situations.

Just like the drink.

It just.feels.good.

Until it doesn’t anymore.

At the end of my drinking, it did not feel good anymore and it really wasn’t fun.  The only relief I got from it was when I drank to “cure” a hangover or calm my depression and anxiety that I didn’t know I had; which of course, only resulted in more depression and anxiety.

Speaking of anxiety, I am having some RIGHT NOW.  My heart is pounding relatively quickly as I am writing this? Why? Ugh. Know what…pause…

Goes downstairs, debates for a hot second whether to smoke a bowl or not, proceeds to move forward with it, says a prayer, has another internal dialogue, and ponders continuing to write or not. Answer? Go and try.

Instant relief.

Here I am, at my desk, in my closet, where I have been telling myself I will be every night for the past month, not doing so and blaming the weed for making me unmotivated.

I still think it is. But I know why I haven’t written and it’s not JUST that. There are 2 other reasons:

  1. I have finally come to accept that I am very prone to depression. It hits me like a ton of bricks and I’m NOT the best person to be around. Going off Wellburtin was the right decision but going against doctors orders and just cutting cold turkey was just fucking stupid. That was very rebellious of me. I knew better and I did it anyway. I did start a new medication today though, so I am hopeful there.
  2. I have changed so much since I started this blog and the trajectory of it has changed even more drastically. I have foreseen how it will evolve further and I know it’s God’s plan but I’m not ready to go there yet. Yet, I am, because I feel like writing about it is the only way I will be able to follow through. But the 5 year old me is standing here stomping my foot on the ground: but I don’t wanna! Wah wah!

I know what you’re thinking.

Then it IS about the weed, isn’t it?

FINE!

Yes.

It is.

#morewillberevealed

Skeletons 3.1 – My Recovery Reborn

Reborn (present): “We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness.” The Promises of AA (BB, pg 83-84)

In Skeletons 1.3, I mentioned giving a speech at my high school graduation and this is what I said about it:

“I spewed a bunch of nonsense. I knew exactly what they wanted to hear and I gave it to them. Knocked that fucker out of the park. “

For my birthday this year, my in-laws had a mini “viewing party” for my husband, kids and I.  Upon plopping on the couch, tv still off, I somehow knew what it was we were about to watch: excerpts from our high school graduation video. And I was right! Upon watching myself at 18 years old, I was hit with 2 realizations:

  1. My speech was NOT as good as I had remembered and
  2. My anxiety was grossly apparent and that further proves why sharing in meetings has always been a challenge for me.

Wanna see what I’m talking about? Of course you do. Here you go:

“…and as we celebrate tonight, we must remember to glorify him in everything we do.”

Lip service, that’s what that was.  I knew what they wanted to hear but my delivery was cringe worthy; not only that but I did the exact opposite of glorifying God in everything that I did that night.*

Let me remind you that I was giving this speech as STUDENT BODY PRESIDENT. Not the president of my class. The president of the ASSOCIATED STUDENT BODY, people!

Let me also remind you that I became ASB President by default, I was not voted in.  I was voted into the ASB as the secretary, NOT ASB President. But then something crazy happened that led to some “impeachments” and yours truly automatically took the seat**; if you recall, I was not party to the scandal I mentioned in Skeletons 1.3. because my friends were worried I would ruin it for everyone. Fair enough.

Fast forward 15 years later to March, 2013.

I was up in front of a room full of women accepting my 1 year token.  I have no idea what I said except for this big fat lie:

“The promises really have come true for me.”

I didn’t even know what the promises really meant, I had no idea what I was saying, and I stumbled over every single word I thought they wanted to hear.  And that’s how it went every single time I accepted a token thereafter, up until year #5, the last token I “took” (as we say in the rooms.)

Fast forward 2 years later and I’m not like that today.

Today, I say what I mean and I mean what I say.

Today, I do what I say I’m going to do…for the most part…and when I don’t, the only person I am letting down is myself.

Today, I still get super nervous sharing but I’m a little bit calmer and self-confident.

Today, I care more about how my share will impact the newcomer and not what others are going to think about me.

Today, I do know a new freedom and a new happiness.

That’s what faith does.

That’s what trust does.

That’s what love does.

Thank you, S3 – you know WTF you are.

And thank you, HP! To God be all the glory.

#morewillberevealed