meeting attendance and other moments of being brave

i went to my 7:30 am meeting today - the one i get to see the spectacular sunrise as i cross over the bridge and thank God for bringing me there, at least one more time. it was awesome -- i wish i could make this meeting all the time, not simply because of the holidays.

speaking of which...tonight is the dreaded New Year's Eve, even though i don't dread it because we never really do anything. i am thinking about going to the meeting where they are also hosting a dance -- i love this group of folks, too. at the meeting yesterday morning, jam-packed, i noticed a young mom with her two little ones, who were busy coloring or playing a game-boy. i thought how brave and strong she was, not to use her children as an excuse for not going to a meeting if she felt the need to go...and as "luck" would have it, i was next to her at the Lord's Prayer and was able to share that thought with her. she simply smiled back and i told her girls how wonderful they were the whole time.

tonight is the NYE dance that is being hosted by this particular group, along with a "young people's group" from a neighboring city. from what i hear, it is supposed to be a very good time, every year it gets bigger and better (the dance) and they have simultaneous meetings in a different room pretty much around the clock to help those struggling and suffering to make it through without picking up. i think it is a very cool thing, but i have had several folks ask if i was going to the dance and try to encourage me to do so when i shook my head *noooo*. honestly, it is out of my comfort zone for so many reasons -- as one girl said today, "i don't even know if i can dance while sober!!" and i just laughed!! how true!

here's the jig tho: jimbo has to work until 8 and wants to meet me there afterward - families can come, the whole lot!

oh boy. there goes my excuse....i have no idea. but i think, even if it is to stay for a diet soda and some conversation with my sponsor, i may hang for a bit after the meeting. thing is, i just don't know if i am brave enough. my liquid courage has been drained out of me and i am learning how to be an all-new person without it. this is well beyond a brave move, but we'll see what happens. i figured if i am to stay, God will let me know that on no uncertain terms.

(remember: this is the introvert that hates going to parties by herself....attending these meetings has been a major step, no pun intended. staying for a dance? omg, i have a stomach ache even thinking about it......)

legal vs. lawful

the DUI calculator -- calculator that shows how many drinks over how many hours will add up to being legally over the limit in any State in the US.

for this writer, however, it reminded me of a Scripture verse (i promise i will not get preachy) - 1 Corinthians 10:23 "Everything is lawful," but not everything is beneficial. "Everything is lawful," but not everything builds up.

so while some of my dear readers may be able to drink within the "legal" limits, i know that i myself cannot. it would not be beneficial, and it certainly would not build me up.

i don't need a calculator to prove it to myself or anyone else :)

where are you going?

this is such an amazing picture from an introspective's point of view...solitude, not wishing to engage. i can feel for this person (regardless of whether it was posed or not; i suspect it was.) i am her, at various times.

i attend my meetings on a daily basis and for the first week, i was very much this girl -- looking away, no eye contact, did not avail myself to anyone; scarcely breathed.

however, something has changed in me, over the past few days...i am actively listening. i am nodding in affirmation, joining in on the laughter (please note: alcoholics are "not a glum lot!"), and entering into the pain and sorrow or suffering of the others walking the walk with me, sharing the same space, the same hour together.

no longer on a bus, all alone.

i feel as though i am starting to breathe.

homework

i think i found my home group, which i understand is important to have so you can become more interconnected with the members and be of service to others. i am comfortable with the people in this particular group and think i am going to take the next step next week and approach someone after the meeting.

y'all know i am all about service :)

i arrived on time, but the meeting was packed and i am guessing it is because it is the weekend before NY's Eve. i don't think i will have a problem with NYE because i have never been one (in my adult years anyway) to utilize it as a time to get wasted. shit, i had all the other weekends preceding it to do so...why not wake up without a hangover on NY's Day and be different than all the rest?

big ole heaping dose of pride.

my sponsor saved me a seat which was great because -- did i mention this? -- i knit during the meetings. i kid you not, my needles fly the entire time, i think i average about 9 rows an hour, which is pretty amazing as i really started this blanket in earnest when i decided to become sober 3 (almost 4!!) weeks ago. if you know me from m2, you know i take forever to complete something. there is sobriety in this blanket that i will be finishing probably by next week. and yes, the baby will be quite spoiled as i intend to start another one once this is finished.

back to my sponsor -- she has told me what she requires of me:

• check in daily. even if it's only a quick *hello*
• read from the Big Book daily
• start writing out my drinking history

the first two, i was okay; the last one? not so much. it is that whole Step 4 - fearless inventory thing that has me shaking in my shoes. i knew it was coming, but i also knew that God wouldn't bring me to it without bringing me through it. ugliness on paper, searching and fearless.

i have plans to take molly out today, just the two of us, but i am going to get this started this evening.

fearless and searching. (ouch already...)

overheard at the coffee table...

...from last night's meeting...


"Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for someone else to die."

stanza 1

Alone (bw)
Originally uploaded by Een fotograaf

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.


Rainer Maria Rilke
I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone, st. 1 (as translated by Annemarie S. Kidder)

stanza 2

Solitude
Originally uploaded by Giuseppe Scognamiglio Fotografia

I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough
to make every hour holy.
I am too small in the world, and yet not tiny enough
just to stand before you like a thing,
dark and shrewd.
I want my will, and I want to be with my will
as it moves towards deed;
and in those quiet, somehow hesitating times,
when something is approaching,
I want to be with those who are wise
or else alone.


Rainer Maria Rilke
I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone, st. 2 (as translated by Cliff Crego)

not alone

Abandoned
Originally uploaded by R1 User

i have a sponsor, officially. she is the one who helped "talk me down" on Christmas morning and when i saw her last night and she gave me a huge hug, i thought i'd ask her. she hugged me again and is thrilled and will be wonderful for me, i can feel it.

speaking of wonderful for me: that equals you. being able to come in here, say what i need to say to get it out of the dark and into the light makes it so much better; reading your comments and knowing you are praying for me, rooting for me, offering me phone numbers...is overwhelming. aside from my occasional prayer requests, i can never recall asking for so much help. God is sending help from everywhere, most of all where i least expect it.

i was in a bit of a "hangover" yesterday, mood-wise, from Christmas day. today, i am feeling much better.....exchanging emails with a friend have helped considerably. i am not alone.

i am so not alone.

moving on...

snow
Originally uploaded by blamfoto

i am glad Christmas is over.

(you have no idea)

in the interest of looking toward 2008, i am wondering what others are feeling during this "lame duck" week - it's a bit of a purgatory between Christmas and New Years...

topic o' the day -- are you one who makes resolutions?
do you write them down?
do you recheck them a week later (or a month or two) to see how you are faring?
are you looking forward to the next year?
are you happy to see this one come to a close?

i will respond in kind after i have had a bit of discussion in the com box. open and inviting one and all to join in. (please - no crickets :)

most of you will think i have serious bi-polar issues. i may.

but honest to God, this has been the saddest Christmas i can ever recall. i guess i have so much junk, so much baggage that is now starting to come up and be purged that i can't even think straight.

this morning was disastrous for reasons i cannot get into here. i then thought maybe i should attend a meeting, which was an even bigger disaster because it was in a small, dank room where smoking was allowed and the stale odor hung over the room like a pall. i thought i was going to go nuts of i stayed any longer so i left after maybe three minutes.

i am in such depression that you can see it in my eyes, as i feel it in my heart. and to add to the drama that is my life, one of my friends told me he'd "pass on talking to me" ever again. my heart absolutely hurts.

i am despairing. i wish i knew where all of this was coming from but i am now starting to think it isn't really alcoholism, that it is more like clinical depression.

i hate this. this totally sucks.

gratitude and bay view

not knowing if it was fully in me, or if it was by "happenstance" yesterday, i awoke today again in a feeling of gratitude.

i went to an early meeting this morning (what a difference in how my day runs!) and it overlooked the bay in the town i grew up in. it was peaceful and peace-filled and i can honestly say as i look around at those sipping their coffee and offering up their stories in a sense of sacrifice in order to help the struggling ones overcome, i found myself sitting in a chair of gratitude.

who would have thought?

three weeks ago i began my journey and as i sit and listen to these folks with 12 years...3 years...23 years "next week, God willing" i cannot help but think of how blessed i am sitting in the company of giants.

i am actually starting to feel blessed!

there is sobriety in these coffee urns, and the sights and sounds in these meeting rooms are actually conduits of holiness: the kind of holiness to comes to you only when you are broken and shattered; that comes when you beckon. it is there, in its silence, in its enormity, its entirety -- the sum of all its parts. sacred ground.

who will rescue me from this body of death? thanks be to God, and it is all because i finally recognized my life as unmanageable, that there was a power Greater than Me, and i can actually turn things over to Him without pretending i have and taking it back in all its denial glory.

God, am i happy about that.

we all have today.

121ClintonSt
Originally uploaded by sandyflash

the picture depicts where AA meetings first began at Bill Wilson's house in Brooklyn.

three weeks ago tonight i took my last drink. with God's help it will be my last one; were it left up to me, i'd have fallen off the wagon the last two friday nights, but i haven't and i attribute not having done so to my God who loves me, apparently.

while i went to my first meeting not knowing what to expect, save for my preconceived notion of "my name is Bill and i'm an alcoholic," and the response of "Hi, Bill!" i had no idea what would go on, or if i'd be back.

i've been back every day for the last two weeks and believe the only day i will miss will be Christmas day, but i will do some reading and phone my sponsor (who i think is my sponsor now; am not sure).

these meetings have become a very important time of my day and while some of them haven't been the most comfortable to sit through, there is junk in me that needs to be purged and even if i've not spoken to more than a handful of people in the last two weeks, i feel like i am starting to reconcile myself with my feelings.

alcoholics have feelings, too.

so where the rooms were at first intimidating to me, i now look forward to going because they feel *safe*. it is safe to hang out with other people who think just like me. so i go, i sit, i listen. and feel. and clap. and have tears spring to my eyes. and pray with these people who are just as twisted and messed up in their heads as i am.

i may not have all of it figured out, but as i am about to go upstairs and meet my pillow, i am grateful. i am grateful because today, i did not pick up a drink. i did have the desire, but i asked God to distract me from it and do with it what He willed. and it worked.

for today.

Despair is easy; hope is hard.

from Remembering a Darker Christmas Story - Maryann Cusimano Love

To me the brilliance of Ignatian spirituality is the simple directive to find God in all things. “In all things” is the rub. We are not tasked with seeing God’s presence only in Hallmark moments, beautiful sunsets and Christmas choruses singing in harmony. St. Ignatius challenged his contemporaries and challenges us today to find God in the barrios of the poor, the beds of the sick, the awkward complications of those who need more than we can give—in precisely those bleak corners of life that at first glance seem most bereft of God.

Despair is easy; hope is hard. Especially at this cold and dark time of year, it is easy to feel overwhelmed by the depth and darkness of human suffering, by the weight of wave after wave of bad news crashing onto the shores of our consciousness. The war in Iraq continues its voracious pace, killing innocents, displacing millions, but the culture urges us to forget that for now, to be merry and bright and deck the halls. As leaders in the Middle East meet, polls show the sides are further apart than ever before. Two-thirds of Palestinians believe the right of refugees to return to their homes is non-negotiable, while 80 percent of Israelis believe that Palestinian refugees should not be allowed back. Bethlehem is a poster child for division, barricaded behind a 27-foot high wall, Israel’s version of last century’s Berlin Wall.

Jesus’ birthplace “is a prison,” says Mike Canawati, a Palestinian Christian resident of Bethlehem who is not allowed outside the wall. Christian peacemaker teams note that Mary and Joseph would not be able to enter Bethlehem today, and many Palestinian mothers in labor give birth in cars or fields because they are prevented by the wall and checkpoints from reaching medical care in time. They urge us to build walls around our nativity sets to show solidarity with Palestinians in Bethlehem suffering from apartheid.

How can we sing of peace on earth?

It does not help that our culture has sanitized and Disneyfied the Christmas story, putting it further out of reach. The characters in my children’s Fisher-Price manger set are all fresh, clean and smiling. The star automatically lights the scene while a carol plays on an endless loop, all light and no shadow. The culture tells me that I should feel nothing but joy at this “most wonderful time of the year,” and also that I should buy lots of stuff to shower others with consumer products, while the homeless tap on my car windows on my way home from the university in Washington, D.C. As a Christian, I feel conflicted. I would like to feel enraptured by the celebration of Christ’s birth. But how can I while Christians in the Middle East are still persecuted and forced to flee, while the poor still roam with no room at the inn.

Despite the greeting card renditions, Christ’s birth is a rather dark story. Reclaiming the darkness of that story can help its light shine on us today. A family is forced to leave home by the decree of a repressive regime. No one opens the door to the poor migrants. Ultimately Mary is forced to give birth amid the smell and dung of animals. Yes, shepherds and wise men pay their respects, but so do the thugs of a power-hungry dictator, who slaughter innocent babies. No cape-clad superhero saves the babies, rights the wrongs, smites the murderers, topples the repressive regime. Instead the members of the Holy Family become refugees, forced to flee because their religious identity and very existence challenge the unjust political order.

What is there to celebrate in this darkness? Emmanuel means “God is with us,” not that heaven appears on earth and peace and justice emerge instantly in our time. Instead, the promise of the Incarnation and the insight of Ignatius are that God is with us through it all, in illness, poverty, homelessness, repression, war, in the middle of the night in the most lowly circumstances. God is in all things. His shining light is not extinguished by Herod’s dark deeds then or ours today. In a world of seemingly unending darkness, the miracle and wisdom of the Magi were that they noticed and followed the light at all. The heroism of the shepherds was that they recognized God among them, in the most inauspicious circumstances. In the bleating of our daily labors, in the groanings of the night, our challenge is similar: to follow the light no matter how deep the darkness, to recognize the Incarnation and to hear the cry of the tiny divine child.

sent to me by a friend, an excerpt. if you subscribe to America magazine, please let me know if it is worth the cost (online is only $12 but real issues, $48...) if all of the content is like this, i would find it well worth the price. i believe this to be only an excerpt...here is a link to the article that has its plug for subscription.

Artwork: BOTTICELLI, Sandro
The Mystical Nativity
c. 1500
Tempera on canvas, 108,5 x 75 cm
National Gallery, London

An Experience Offered to All

Some people say: "I never had an experience of the fullness of time. ... I am just an ordinary person, not a mystic." Although some people have unique experiences of God's presence and, therefore have unique missions to announce God's presence to the world, all of us - whether learned or uneducated, rich or poor, visible or hidden - can receive the grace of seeing God in the fullness of time. This mystical experience, is not reserved for a few exceptional people. God wants to offer that gift in one way or another to all God's children.

But we must desire it. We must be attentive and interiorly alert. For some people the experience of the fullness of time comes in a spectacular way, as it did to St. Paul when he fell to the ground on his way to Damascus (Acts 9:3-4). But for some of us it comes like a murmuring sound or a gentle breeze touching our backs (1 Kings 19:13). God loves us all and wants us all to know this in a most personal way.

Henri Nouwen Society

happy hour

thought for the day: i am of the opinion that AA meetings on friday nights should begin around 5 and end "whenever."

~~~~~

this has been a pretty bad day. it seems like whenever i start off feeling good, there is something that comes along (and today, it was in the form of two teens who are near and dear to me) and knocks me right out and over.

i sit in meetings and listen to folks say that they are grateful for being alcoholic. i fucking hate being an alcoholic. i am sorry for this language, folks, but it is inside and it is coming out like i am purging all the anger i have had for so many years but have been unable to feel. because if you *feel* your feelings, you are at risk for letting people down and if you are afraid to show disappointment, you keep it bottled inside until you explode at probably the least appropriate moment. for years i have kept my anger and disappointment inside of me, to the point of feeling like an actor on the outside.

so yeah, i hate being an alcoholic. i hate the fact that i cannot pick up a drink without it turning into an entire bottle. i hate the fact that i let alcohol control me instead of the other way around. and i hate the fact that it is happy hour and i am pretty un-fucking-happy.

but i won't drink. i'll just come here and spread the joy.

i think as i approach the weekends, i can feel my inward self start craving. that must be it. in addition to the lack of funds that really is overtiring to discuss, Christmas shopping with $0 after only an hour is equally as overtiring to the point of exhaustion, mentally.

so i found myself terribly agitated and even entertained the thought of having a glass of wine and calling it a night after my hour-long venture. i am learning through my meetings (sorry Micky, whoever you are, dear one) that you should turn things over to your Higher Power (which is in my case God, Jesus, Holy Spirit -- go Triune or go home...) and replace the thought with something of gratitude.

how do you think that was working for me, yesterday? uh, not so well. i was talking to Him in the car on the way to the meeting i reluctantly attended -- day 17 of sobriety yesterday, look at me thinking i have wiggle room for reluctance -- and out loud told Him i didn't feel grateful, that i am so sick of being poor, that i think this whole thing is "too little, too late" because our finances are still in such a state of disrepair. seriously, God -- what the fuck? what is the point of not picking up a drink if things aren't going to get any better?

and so it went, as i was in most of my day, during my commute to my meeting i remained up in my head.

then of course, our meeting was on Step Two, Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity... what, me insane? that is preposterous (said the girl who has conversations with herself all day...) but the noise and my angst slowly eased as we read and i listened to the folks do their sharing. not a "glum lot": funny. insightful, wise. sober. grateful to be there, it started settling in me, as well.

this is my favorite meeting, there is a tremendous amount of wisdom and warmth, support and encouragement in this room, and i feel better before i leave. i discuss with some ladies how many days i've been without alcohol and get chastised (just a little) about not picking up the phone to reach out and call someone instead of staying in my head. duly noted; am new at this.

i have so much to learn, but for today, the lesson i take from yesterday is that i did not drink, i did not act out on my other junk, and i have been given another opportunity to make things better for today.

staying in my day instead of my head.


(collage by Robert Magginetti)

for kicks and giggles

i've installed haloscan on this blog as well because of some lengthy, eyes-glazing-over comments i have received from my new best friend micky.

sorry, mate. recovery is hard enough and i am neurotic enough already without having to moderate comments.

the comments left by my friends from before, i believe i can still access. if not, i already hold them in my heart. thank you.

peace.

fence sitting

during the meetings, i have heard on more than one occasion you are to take what you want and leave the rest.

the meeting on tuesday night was rough because not only am in recovery for my alcohol dependency, i still have a difficult time with the "it is a sickness" part and i am trying to reconcile that within myself. i had a shitful childhood because of my stepfather's "illness" because along with that illness came a lot of harsh words and actions that left an indelible mark on me and my heart. we read something from the big book the other night that really disturbed me entitled "to Wives." it basically was instructing women (who this ancient book is geared toward in the "this is a man's problem" sense) on how to react and deal with their alcoholic husband in a non-critical way and i found myself sitting on the fence between the struggling alcoholic who desires to be clean and just begs for a bit of indulgence while i figure it all out and my inner (apparently still hurting) 14 year-old who shielded her younger brothers from the onslaught once dad was high again...why should she be so understanding?

truth be told, i was very uncomfortable during this meeting for the above-stated reasons. am still processing it all and know i need to re-read the chapter and be open to what it is seeking to instill in me. i have not subjected my family to a lot of drunken bouts or hangovers. i have never really embarrassed them in public or in private because most of what i did within my drinking self was carried on out of earshot and eyesight and included my internet addiction as most of what i did (that was *wrong* on so many levels) on the internet was during my drinking times. i have internalized much of what my compulsive self brought me to, save for skirting the specifics in confession other than "i did wrong things" and a lot of this chapter didn't pertain to me.

but as the child of an addict, the whole chapter freaking dealt with me. this is the uncomfortable part. this is the part that is going to make me take my experiences from my past and bring them to the forefront and finally confront them.

eventually.

i think.

withdrawal method

i am noticing a withdrawing of friends. i have friends i have met online and haven't heard from them nearly as regularly as i did when i was *party girl*. hmm. interesting stuff, that. i have a friend who is a sommelier at a schmancy restaurant who i met at the liquor store and we became friends thereafter, but am wondering how long this relationship will really last as we no longer have the *big common thread* that wove through each of our tapestries at one time. have only the "i love him, he is my friend" thread. no more wine at the dinner table. will be interesting to see where this leads.

change is good, or so we are told. i sit in these meetings and simply listen. i chat a bit with the person next to me if there is a break, but for the most part, i listen. their stories are staggering and i try to suppress facial expressions other than the one of compassion and a listening ear. i sit and bend my will not to compare myself to these others -- it is apparent there are varying degrees of this illness and while i may not have climaxed with mine, i feel like i pulled out just in time. (forgive the metaphors...)

so there are levels of dis-ease just as there are levels of friendships. it is now i will find out just how deep or committed my friendships are, but surprisingly, i am not sad about it. in fact, i will probably feel, in the end, that i discovered such things before anything disastrous came about that could affect me for a lifetime. a sort of birth (death?) control.

(it was good to pull out.)

All the absurd little meetings, decisions, inner skirmishes that go to make up all our days. It all adds up to very little, and yet it all adds up to very much. Our days are full of nonsense, and yet not, because it is precisely into the nonsense of our days that God speaks to us the words of great significance - not words written in the stars but words written into the raw stuff and nonsense of our days, which are not nonsense just because God speaks into the midst of them. And the words that he says, to each of us differently, are 'Be brave . . . be merciful . . . feed my lambs . . . press on toward the goal.'


Frederick Buechner, Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons

healing and denial.

Bette Linderman - Denial. Then Acceptance-With No Hint of Surrender, 2007. Courtesy of the Artist and Art Obje

~*~*~
since this is my space to vent about things most unpleasant, you have been warned.

yesterday was really weird. really weird.

i woke up and did my usual surfing while drinking coffee and knew i had my 10:00 meeting to go to. great meeting, by the way. huge. while i'd like to say "so many of them," but it's more like "so many of us." at the end of the meeting someone said "tonight's the meeting for beginners," i said "and i'd love to go, but i know it will be a problem for my husband."

it was.

his mood was *off* all day and and made a comment to me along the lines of "i don't know why you would have to go back -- you already went to a meeting!" he thinks i am going "overboard." he doesn't understand my attendance at meetings, going every night, for a problem that doesn't seem like a problem to him. i sat as i listened to him and saw the pain on his face. he apologized, but then added "i am sick of the drama in this house."

let me tell you folks, and trust me when i tell you this: most of the drama occurred when i was drinking, alone and on the internet, while he was sleeping.

i gently explained (for the nth time) that my step-father was a prescription drug addict. my natural father, although i only really knew him the last year of his life, was a 17-sober, recovering member of AA during his final days. my mom has alcohol dependency, as does at one of my brothers. i have been in or around alcohol or substance abuse my entire life ---> how could i not, at the very least, have co-dependency issues? at the very freaking least?

one of the first notes i took at an AA meeting is "there are no rules for membership other than the desire to stop drinking." Got that. the 12 steps are "suggestions." Got that, too.

since i have lived my life under the shadow of addiction for my entire 44 years, and i woke up to a memory of the events the previous night two weeks ago that was alarming and spoke to me in such a way as to say "you have a problem and you need to stop drinking now," why should i do that alone and unsupported, other than by a husband who only knows how to tell me "you're fine?" i am sorry, but i want to know why the fuck i act the way i do. how to change my behavior. two weeks ago, it was as if i was going 90 miles an hour toward a brick wall and i slammed on the brakes just in time; i was given another chance because i scared the shit out of myself. what on earth would make me get back behind the wheel (metaphorically speaking) and gun the engine for another go?

that's insanity.

i said to him, "would you rather me wait another 10 years and get my life so out of control that i can go with your blessing? wait until i screw our finances into the ground because of my alcohol purchases, my inability to get up and go to work, putting our children through hell, getting to know the police on a first-name basis (and insert bad internet behavior, unspoken, here) ....before i *merit* your permission to help myself? no. i want to be a better wife, a better mother now. not in 10 years. now."

with that i got off my chair and walked into the other room to get away from the conversation.

things were better after dinner, and we finished in time for me to go to my meeting...one he was actually encouraging me to go to (yeah....i was surprised too). in fact, he gave me my dollar for the basket and said, "see you when you get home."

it's a start, and i am grateful for it.

healing. doesn't mean it is going to be easy or fun. living in denial isn't much fun, either.

Day 7 - 90 in 90

attended two meetings today...second was supposed to be for "beginners" and thought i'd be able to ask questions; however, a lot of familiar faces of those i have heard *share* before and know they are not new to this, so remained quiet. next week, only one meeting on sunday will suffice.

thought from cliff's sponsor:

You know the difference between you and God? God doesn't want to be you...

bless me father for i have sinned...

David Brewster

~~

it's been almost four months since my last confession. that wasn't really a confession. (there was nobody behind me in line, for which i was grateful because i tend to take more than your basic five minutes in the booth.)

i went and spoke to someone who knows my junk. told him what i wanted to tell the Other Priest and he was very kind about why Other Priest may have reacted the way he did, but then went on to discuss my recognition of what the root of my problems are and how i came to know this.

and i told him everything that i have been holding inside...the junkiest of all junk...and he did not even flinch. in fact, he sat with me and we discussed good things at length and actually laughed. i left the room after having received absolution and a remedy and saw that what was an empty line when i entered the room, was now 5-deep with a lot of questioning eyes.

oh, well.

i decided to bask in the grace instead of fret over being in there as long as i was. apparently, Msgr. felt it was necessary (as did God) and it is all good.

love this song, this video, steve winwood's voice. found it fitting for today, save for the chorus which states "i'm wasted and i can't find my way home."

i am not wasted. i am working my way home.

(that's gotta count for something, right?)

Anberlin - The Haunting

testing

my life of *else*

cross-posted at my StumbleUpon blog

~~~

in speaking at length with a friend this week, in his wisdom, he shared with me that most addicts live in a life of "else" -- wanting to be someone else, somewhere else, doing something else...you get the picture.

in going over my flickr pics, i found a collage of family photos that were needed for my in-laws 50th wedding anniversary slide show. in looking at my pics, this senior pic of me in particular, i saw someone who was hopeful and full of promise, looking toward a future that was unknown, scary and thrilling at the same time.

it was then, my senior year, that i picked up my first glass of alcohol (it was probably something like a white russian or equally as girlie) . how could i know that it would eventually totally change the course of my life?

(into something else.)

Day 5 - 90 in 90/Day 12 of Sobriety

butterfly bush
Originally uploaded by martha2

am feeling fragile, like my delicate butterfly bush i have pictured here. am wistful for the summer so i could (a) get through these holidays, and (b) be further along in my recovery, which for whatever reason, started to hit a wall today.

open and honest: feeling a little resentful that i cannot have a glass of wine. it's friday night, i went to a very crowded meeting and that was probably what prevented me from ordering a drink when we went to dinner afterward. i actually was shaking from not getting what i wanted.

shaking.

i pray that tomorrow will be easier. i know i am a "weekend warrior" drinker, whose habits were starting to filter into my week day, as well. i did fine last friday, which i know is now over, as is this one. i did not pick up and thank God i didn't.

but fuuuuck. i wanted to so badly.

Day 4 - 90 in 90

loved, loved, loved the meeting last night. sat next to young woman i have literally known for years; was uncertain who was more surprised to see who.

since i am so new and really have nothing to share during the meeting, i sit and i listen which, given some of the testimony from one of the members who was "60 days into sobriety and since my sponsor isn't here, thought i'd share the following," is okay and necessary for me to do. the stories are amazing, saddening, from incredibly brave and hurting people. i am so empathetic that regardless of my present situation, i could see wanting to attend these meetings, regardless.

but i have a problem and i am trying to get to the bottom of it. i believe once i find a sponsor and compile my "fearless and thorough" inventory, i will find out just how sick i really am.

last night's quote o' the night (and man, there were many):

Hurt people hurt people.

amen.

i have a decent temperament. i would like to say i generally fly below the radar unless something torques me up but good.

like when your dh (pictured below, smiling, not smiling this morning) wakes you up at 4:00 a.m. and says "i locked my keys in the car with the car running" and then dumps the entire matter on your lap at 4:15 as he leaves for work with your car keys in hand.

(i have typed and deleted three different times what i was going to say. as someone said last night in our meeting, "your first thought doesn't count." i am now thinking neither do my second, third, or fourth thoughts...)

so why -- tell me WHY -- would a locksmith offer 24 hour emergency service, only to have the answering machine tell me at 4:20 a.m. that they open at 9:00 a.m.?

o.
m.
g.

this is how my day began. tell me about yours...

you always take a little something with you when you leave a meeting...tonight's gem:

I was tired of always being up in my head.

coming clean

i have spoken of my issues with addictions in the past, so much so that i won't go overboard in this post with the self-linky-love. you could, however, do a search on this blog and discover my past threads if you are even remotely interested in what i have said in the past. (oh, and why wouldn't you be??)

what i have now done, and believe me when i tell you it did not come from me, was made the decision to stop drinking alcohol and start attending AA meetings. i had a few incidents that surrounded my drinking over the past few months (years??) that while they may be blog-worthy reading, are beyond anything even i am desirous of sharing with God, let alone my precious few readers, here.

by the way ---> today is Day 10 of sobriety :)

meanwhile, the blog i began to discuss at length for my paxil withdrawals has now morphed into my journey with AA. i am sharing this information with you here so (a) you know where i am if i have not been keeping up with m2, and (b) if you want to read what i have been experiencing, you are welcomed to do so. i have been pretty much an open book and honest with everyone but myself and it is time to put that to an end and come clean.

peace.

thoughts from my 2nd meeting (90 in 90)

am desirous of finding a *home group* and felt very comfortable with the folks i met with last night. i told them of my turning my house upside down, looking for my 24-hour chip, and they graciously and gladly gave me another --> this time, i got a hug :) so much warmth.

about mid-way through our meeting, a late-comer arrived and sat next to me. when she settled in, i passed her my pamphlet i am using to collect phone numbers and she jotted quickly her name and number and passed it back. we chatted during the break and we apparently have a lot in common (how is that? how could i not have known or felt this for the years prior to now that i was an addict when it came to this, as well?) and by the end of the night, she had added the words "please call me any time..." next to her name and when we hugged (a very huggy bunch) i asked her how long she had been sober (thinking: sponsor) and she said, "only a short while."

earliert in the meeting, it was discussed how you should be careful who you hang with, especially if you are in a situation where there could be *trouble*, i.e., out to dinner and both being in a weakened state and in danger of compromising your sobriety. hearing her say "only a short while," i responded with a "i guess we shouldn't go to a local tavern for dinner, then..."

we both laughed. i am hopeful i will see her again because i liked her spirit.

the quest for a sponsor continues. am i wrong in thinking i need someone with a lot of time under their "belt?"

(blogging on the fly...be back later to check in.)

pardon our appearance...

i felt it okay to change this blog's name, how i wish for it to identify me. i may be anxious about many things, but my m2 moniker is for my other space. i changed the name of this blog to reflect where i feel i am today: in repair.

(in actuality, the concept is from a John Mayer song, whose lyrics i won't lay out in full, but in the chorus, he states: I'm in repair --- I'm not together, but I'm getting there.)

blogs can take on so many different avenues of thought. i realize i am new to recovery and going to meetings, but if i have learned anything in my last 10 days of sobriety, it is that i am tired of being so sick in my mind, body, and spirit and i have finally decided (with God's insistence) to be in repair. not to stay where i am, not to be stuck in the mire and remain steadfast in the muck.

time to get out the tools and start using them. fix the brokenness, get honest with myself and with others and simply stop the behavior.

(at least for today)

pencil drawing, colorized on computer
by gregvan

+~+~+

i walked in and immediately, a woman with a warm smile and had me sit with "me and the girls." i must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

a booklet with meeting dates and times was passed around and all ladies in attendance added their phone numbers to the back, in case i should wish to call them. in fact, the Open Arms Lady said i should call at least two of them this week, just to check in.

i sat and listened. i went in thinking maybe i didn't *need* to be there, that i am not *that* bad...the self-doubting, the devil whispering into my ear anything that would make me turn the car around and go home. prior to getting out of my car and walking toward the church and into the meeting, i said a quick arrow prayer: "God if i am to be here, keep it simple. let me know under no uncertain terms that this is for me."

i got out, walked toward the glow of the open doors and went in. that was when i was met by Open Arms.

it was a step meeting. there was *usual* business discussed and the first step was recited from the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (which Open Arms lady purchased for me and gave to me as a gift before i left). they went around the room, each member reading a paragraph from the first step - 1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.

powerless?
unmanageable?

wow. as i sat and listened as they read aloud, the second to the last paragraph struck a chord in me:

Why all this insistence that every AA must hit bottom first? The answer is that few people will sincerely tried to practice the AA program unless they have hit bottom. For practicing AA's remaining eleven steps means the adoption of attitudes and actions that almost no alcoholic who is still drinking can dream of taking....Who wishes to be rigorously honest and tolerant? Who wants to confess his faults to another and make restitution for harm done?...No, the average alcoholic, self-centered in the extreme, doesn't care for this prospect--unless he has to do these things in order to stay alive himself.

and there it was. my *sign* -- i may not have hit rock bottom -- but i find i am pulling myself up before i do and it is my desire to never pick up a drink again. i cannot believe this is coming out of me as i always said if i couldn't drink wine ever again, i did not know what i would do with myself. and yet, i mean it. i mean it for at least today, even though Open Arms suggested i attend 90 meetings in 90 days. a jump-start, if you will. and true to her warmth, she hugged me good-bye and said "keep coming back."

so many things that were cliches to me are now going to come to life. i rushed through the house and grabbed the first journal i could find and took it with me last night, but sat with it on my lap and simply listened. when i came home, that is when it poured out of me - all the thoughts, words. when i closed the book itself, i noticed what was imprinted on the front:

Nothing is worth more than this day -- Goethe

how true.

stepping off.

i made a telephone call today and go to my first meeting tonight, which is "open" and a "step meeting."

the lady i spoke with on the phone sounded really nice and supportive; thank God she was because i could not imagine calling the number i called and getting someone without an ounce of desire to be on the other end of the phone. she is probably a godsend to many, i know she was to me. so much so that she gave me her home telephone number and said i could call her, any time.

i am stepping out of my comfort zone tonight at about 6:45 p.m. i am going to obtain information and will sit and listen and from what "debbie" said today, get my first "chip."

i just want to get well.

milestone for today: i was given a gift of a bottle of chardonnay. one of my favorites. and when the *benefactor* left the building, i turned and gave it to my co-worker. it was painful, but i cannot have it in my home.

there ya go.

how brilliant would it all be if i could get to a place where i would never have to take anything for anxiety or depression again? but i am digressing or projecting (one or the other). just for today, i want to be well. i want to know why i am prone to gravitating toward that which is so freaking pleasurable at first, but then can slowly, chronically, and progressively be out to get me for good.

so much for my anonymity here -- will keep y'all posted.

tiramisu and other questions

so i went to my in-laws today for my nephew's birthday party and there was alcohol and plenty of it. i didn't drink any and had no desire to.

i did, however, eat a very small portion of tiramisu -- i asked my mother-in-law what she put in it and she said it was left-over from a dinner party she had last night and all told, she put 1/3 cup of cognac in it.

it tasted strong to me, so i didn't eat any more, but here is my problem: today was one week since i picked up a drink. an entire week. and yes, we have it in the house, but my husband is a beer drinker and thinks i am being ridiculous in my abstinence and there would be no way he would forego having it here, but the thing is, i am not the least bit interested in drinking it. it is as if God took the desire away, but i don't want to rely on that; i know i have to get to a meeting to see what is up with me and why.

does it count, what i ate today? do i have to begin again at the beginning tallying up my days of sobriety? it was an innocent, inadvertent mistake and one i am hopeful i will not repeat in the future now that i know that tiramisu has liquor in it and you would think, being married to a chef would be one of those things i would know, but i have never had it before and do not intend to have it again.

is this a sin of omission?

i have met the devil and it sat in a pudding dish.

soup's on!

my husband, the chef-looking guy in this picture, has a heart of gold. he works a bazillion hours for one of the casinos at sometimes horrible times of the day (like getting up at 2:00 a.m. to be in by 3:00 a.m. --- what is that about, Mr. Trump?), and keeps his complaining down to a minimum. when asked if he misses the restaurant, he usually says no, but then hastens to add how much he misses our customers and "making soup." he is remedying that situation this Christmas.

he came up with the idea to pressure can soup for our friends and relatives. at first i bemoaned the amount of work it would require, but quickly jumped on board when mr chef put his oven mitt down and said, "i don't need your help, then." oh, he so knows how to push my buttons.

(Deb & Shannon, if you are reading this, avert your eyes. thanks in advance.)

we got out our pressure canning equipment, ran the jars, seals and lids through the dishwasher, i went online to various extension programs to gather information, and he prepared his first batch: roasted chicken noodle, which was our house soup.

mind you: m2 is the research assistant, bottle gatherer, and now, support staff.

"honey, i've read in a lot of different places that say you shouldn't add noodles or any other starchy item to the soup because it will become too thick. except for Backwoods Home Magazine, who gives advice on everything from canning soup to hanging meat..."

"i went to culinary school. i know what i am doing."

believe it or not, miss m2 shut her yap and said nothing further.

fast forward to next morning, when canning is over and jars are being dried off. mr chef was wiping down the jars and lamenting over his "chicken noodle stew," in which said linguini noodles expanded to lasagne noodles in the jars.

be proud of your blog hostess: her yap remained as silent as the grave.

fast-forward to this weekend's event: vegetable beef. mr chef was up until the wee smalls pressure canning his first batch, which takes a bit longer to do as it has beef in it and you have to tack on more time. i decided when i woke up this morning, i would pressure up the next batch and let him sleep in...this is the first batch, pictured here. if you could only taste the yumminess of this soup!

there is something very earthy about "putting up" your own food. as an aside, before we owned the cafe, we both really looked forward to snow days because i would hibernate and bake homemade bread and put on chili all day. i cherished those moments because my children were all little and running in and out, tracking in mud and wet clothes, and the woodstove was on and movies or music would be playing all day. i recall feeling very content.

this week it snowed. it dawned on mr chef that it was the first time in 8 years that we would be able to actually enjoy it without worrying about the impact it would have on our business and the financial jolt it would deliver if it snowed for more than an hour or two and any accumulation was predicted. however, the children did not run in and out, tracking in mud and wet and no bread was baked, no chili put on. i am feeling a bit wistful this today, can you tell?

this morning, though, the sound of the soup bubbling merrily in the background actually helps evoke the feeling of contentment i have been missing for such a long time. while my depression has not necessarily vanished completely (i still have swings of it and isolate myself when that happens), but i feel like i am finally in repair.

and all of this nostalgia came about because my husband wanted to make homemade Christmas presents...

back seat riot

my son max has been in a very cool band for about two years now. they have transitioned through two bass players and lost a keyboardist due to, uh, creative differences, but they love playing and have done live shows, recorded demos. oh, and shot this really cool vid:



and now, shall we add "been approached by an indie record label" to the mix?

oh, yeaaah. we shall see what happens next :)

continuation of alcohol discussion

so lately, i've been feeling convicted over the amount of alcohol i have been consuming, even though by the standards of most i know, i am nowhere near in trouble. why am i telling you this, here? because most of you don't *know* me and i found the site linked above to be of particular interest.

maybe i am not as standard as one thinks and don't fit the basic mold. my major points of issue are how i look forward to 5:00 p.m. so i can pour myself a glass of merlot (or whatever else it is i bought) and i am finding i am finishing off the bottles with little or no help and the bottles are seemingly much smaller than they used to be. and then i begin looking for more. shit, i love my wine. i've been spending at least $45+/week at the liquor stores and i am starting to go to different ones so the clerks don't recognize me. that's pretty effing pathetic.

however, i find myself doing screening tests and my result was: 4-9 points: High risk for problem drinking. Addiction to alcohol is likely. Contact your doctor for help.

and this article presented me with beginning stages. just for kicks, i thought i'd highlight what i am going through at this time:

The Early Or Adaptive Stage Of Alcoholism

In the early stage of alcoholism a person starts drinking alcohol just to change his or her mood, to get relief from some type of problem. The person affected along with friends and family members are not aware that they are in the early stage of alcoholism. Their eagerness for alcohol continues to increase, which means they have to increase the amount of alcohol consumption to achieve the desired type of mood. In early stages of alcoholism the body begins to adapt itself to the increased amount of alcohol. At this stage of alcoholism, the body does not loose its' controls, which means the person can still walk in a straight line without loosing their controls from the body but if they continue to drink alcohol the level in their body starts increasing.

well, now.

this didn't help, either, gleaned from another About article but also found here: Many have major depression...and anxiety problems.

or this:

• Typically middle-aged, well-educated, with stable jobs and families
• About one-third have a multigenerational family history of alcoholism.
• One-quarter had major depressive illness at some time in their lives

did i mention it runs in my family? genetics are not my friend in this, either. and with all this posting about absinthe, it may be time to stop talking to my friends and family as to what the *standards* of anything are, and look a little deeper within.

or go without.

absinthe

The Absinthe Drinker,
(Femme ivre se fatigue). Pablo Picasso, 1902

~+~+~

this link leads to an article (a very good one, actually) that describes this as the "drink of choice" for 19th century painters, poets and writers. if i hadn't just hopped on the wagon m'self, i'd be curious to try it. at least one of the ingredients in this drink, thujone, is described as "keeping the drinker lucid even as he succumbs to the pleasant lull of alcohol."

ahhh. sweet sobriety.

not surprisingly, this piece is from Picasso's "Blue Period."

(cross-posted from my Stumble Upon! blog...)

who do i serve?

david byrne

~~~

i worked at the hospital yesterday, which is what i do now, once a week until the end of this schedule which is the 23rd of december. for the most part, "changing hats" is not so difficult. what i am finding is since i "choose" to be there, it makes the day go faster and it is almost enjoyable.

save for the days it is not, like yesterday. not quite chaotic, but there are certain Nurses i do not have the easiest time with, especially on labor & delivery. this is where i worked yesterday, as did she. (i do not mind taking orders, and usually do so without complaint. but i do not enjoy being "barked" at.) i did, however, work with one of my Favorite Techs and Secretaries so it was manageable.

thing is, "upstairs" where post-partum is, there was only one tech. i was told to check in to see if she needed anything by the Team Leader earlier in the day. i was torn as i was downstairs with my Friends and they did not seem terribly busy upstairs so i figured Upstairs Tech would call if she needed anything. i even sent the student up to help when she came in to pitch in for the last 5 hours of the shift. that was a nice thing......right?

all this is me telling you i believe i was justified in staying where i was, and actually it was not until the end of the day when i saw the Upstairs Tech i remembered i never went up to help her. if i did not feel badly enough once i made eye contact and saw how exhausted she looked, she opened up and railed me -- and railed me good -- in front of everybody as we were walking into the locker area.

"way to come up and help, be a team player penni!" as she motioned me with the big *two thumbs up* ...

"oh my God, i am so sorry..." was my feeble reply.

"if it wasn't bad enough, i saw Team Leader and told her how busy i was, and she said she had suggested to you to come up and help me and you never showed up. way to go!!"

another feeble reply was about to escape, and it was defensive: "you don't really have a clue about how my day was, so i really wouldn't *go there* if i were you." nice. good comeback, made me feel like more of a shit than i did when she was reaming me in front of my co-workers.

how much do i suck? what, because i worked with Triage Nurse from Hell, it made me defensive? would the better, more honest reply have assuaged her feelings, the "i was working with my friends that i never see and never work with and i wanted to stay downstairs!" been the better retort?

then she came back with the "oh, i am just kidding....i was fine." but she wasn't fine, i wasn't fine, and anyone in earshot knew the situation was so not fine.

why am i telling my friends in bloggy land that i suck, lest i risk tarnishing my halo?

because i do suck and it hit me between the eyes yesterday. i am not being paid to sit and hang with my friends, when there was someone who needed my help a little bit more and it would have probably taken only a few hours of my 12-hour shift to do so. because even though i say i have a heart for *those who are weary*, sometimes those who are weary are not wearing the only clothes that they own and toting their possessions around in a plastic bag. because helping those who are weary does not only come during the time it is most convenient for me to do so, because i happen to enjoy working in a food kitchen.

no. the weary sometimes even wear scrubs and i am called to assist, even when there is no glory, it is inconvenient, and it calls me out of myself to do so. only then will i be a true servant instead of just another talking head.

addictions and other vices

so i have been taking my Effexor for two full weeks now -- 37.5mg and now 75mg, i am starting on week two of 75mg. my physical withdrawals are no longer with me (thank you, Jesus!) but i am still having bouts of depression. out of nowhere, with nothing specific happening to bring it on, i feel like i am on the verge of tears and despair hits my core.

15 minutes later, it dissipates, and life goes on *as normal* -- but i don't feel normal.

i find i want to lose myself in a way. for instance, when did a bottle of wine get so small? and why am i spending so much $ each week at the liquor store? red flag. gigantic, waving red flag as alcoholism runs in my family. i think "i must not be *that* bad as i never slur my words..." or "i drank that over the course of 3 hours, it's not that big of a deal."

my rational mind is telling me that it is a big deal. a really, really big deal.

aside from genetics, know i shouldn't be drinking alcohol with the medication i am on. what escape am i looking for? do i really want to end up in the hospital?

(actually i am smiling internally at that thought because at least i would be away from everybody and by myself...a self-imposed retreat, perhaps?)

i am also starting to roll around in my addictive behavior again. i know this is definitely not a good thing. definitely not. so why?

i feel the need to escape. escape my reality, which on the surface-level is not bad, but when you start piercing the layers, you will find a desperately unhappy person. otherwise, why would i want to engage in things that will not only hurt me, but hurt others, as well? i want to be numb and simply hide at times.

is this the anxiety disorder? i don't feel anxious, just feel like running away, just so i could be alone.

and my mindset at this time is not to seek therapy because what is the point, really? i wish for my thinking to be different on that issue because i have a great therapist that helped pull me out of the pit before. but it isn't different; not today, anyway. tomorrow may be a different story.

good news is we are out of wine. bad news is, i still have internet access.

not feeling it

sleigh bells ring...i am so not listening...

wow, i've been not feeling it before, but this year, i am really not feeling it.

come, get me out of my I Am Not In The Mood For Christmas Funk. in spire me. enlighten me as to why i need to feel excited about this year -- tell me what you do to get yourself *there* or if you are one of those whackadoos that are already *there* by august, tell me why.

combox open, as always.

penni, for your thoughts

Virtual Painter: 1943 Zinc-Coated Steel Penny

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

This is what I am interested in: your thoughts.
What are they worth to me: One penny - one cent, American money.
What will I do with said thoughts: turn them into a book. An interesting book, one that will either merge together as a story, or its chapters will be happenstance and free, like your words.

I am so excited, I can hardly stand it!

I would love to have happen is you send me a page from your journal -- to me, it doesn't matter if it is new writing or older writing (I personally have a lot of journals). Some are difficult to re-read, so if you would rather not *review* what it is you are sending me, randomly count out 15 pages and take that page, cut or tear it out (carefully) and send it to me. No need to rehash your past, I understand and have been there/done that.

If you provide me with your return address, I will send you one cent for your submission and if you would like, at the end of my book I will list attribution, but only if you say so, and I will not attribute the page unless you are quite specific about my doing so.

In other words: you want people to know it was from you, I will give props. If you do not, I will still give you props, but not attribute which page, exactly, was yours.

A question was asked in my last post about whether I wanted the actual page or typed copy. I want the actual page. There will be grit to it, in its natural state. i am uncertain how i will compile these submissions, you will have to trust i intend to use my best judgment to form either a story or it may simply be a book about journaling (oh like *that* hasn't been done before!)

Thoughts on society, religion, relationships, broken hearts, healing, saving, comforting, stories, poems. I want them all...and then some more -- please tell your friends, blog about it, get the word out -- thoughtful pieces, originality, reposting of what you would maybe even blog about -- again, I want it all -- just direct your friends here and I will do the rest of the work.

Here is my new post office box:

PENNI D.
P.O. BOX 534
NORTHFIELD, NJ 08225

Again, provide your return address and a shiny penny will be posted back to you, regardless of where you live.

Thank you for helping me in this project! I am hopeful you will not be disappointed.

oh Lord!

finding items like this is what makes the internet so great...the only people i have met on a train or subway have talked to themselves...

Concert sauvage dans le métro !
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