Old enough to know that fear and dread can be ignored sometimes but i will pay dearly for neglect, illusion, and carelessness.
Old enough to know the things i worked so hard to deliberately forget will need to be deliberately remembered before i can move on.
Old enough to know my ‘time of the month’ is not that time of the month. No siree.
Old enough to know that it wasn’t you who let me down, it was me. It was my job to care for me. I’m a grown ass woman.
Old enough to know that my mind is constantly writing speeches, chattering, planning, defending, but the best thing I could do is ignore it.
Old enough to know that my mind is a fast car I have not yet learned to drive.
Old enough to know that even quiet actions can be reckless, hurtful. Old enough to know I am no innocent victim.
Old enough to know that what I see, feel, do and learn and focus on right this very second is planting the seeds for my future.
Old enough to know that strength lives in the still parts of the water’s surface, not in the spouting fountains.
Old enough to know my thoughts and actions will effect my own destiny.
Old enough to know there are no easy cures, and that living without him is the most difficult bliss I’ve ever known.
Old enough to know that when my patience runs thin,
I’m allowing it to run thin. And I try not to allow that anymore. There’s always room to stretch.
Old enough to know true leaders build build people up, they don’t break them down. True leaders are and are caring and curious.
Dearest YOU, Blogger Community…. Thank You For Following!
I never could have imagined that an anonymous blog could be so cathartic… and healing… and rewarding. It means so much to me! (Like, maybe too much? LOL)
Fellow bloggers – you are AWESOME!!!! 100 Followers strong and every single follow has brought me more strength and more courage.
Through you I am able to feel confident, where all my confidence had been lost.
Through you I am connected, where before I was feeling so isolated.
Through you I remember who I am and see the beauty of being-true-to-oneself through reading about who you are.
Through you I believe that a ‘better life’ is possible, if I believe.
Because of you I feel even more able to stand on my own two feet for the first time in my whole entire life. As long as I can be me, and you can be you – nothing can really go wrong.
I started this blog because I was quitting drinking in an effort to save my marriage. I was also going through the process of publishing my book (still am). And to top it all off, I was adjusting to a new life in luxury travel marketing at a pretty swanky organization (still adjusting, it’s a pretty intimidating world! We have yacht sized conference room tables! ).
But a few weeks ago, my life changed massively and permanently, and don’t think I would have been able to escape my situation without this blog in the background, and all of you somehow rooting for me? I have felt secure somehow, in this nest of non-judgemental bloggers who all have their own human struggles!
I have not regretted. I have barely cried. I have barely stopped mind you!! But I know I am moving in the direction of becoming a healthier, saner, more balanced person – and mother – who will be better equipped to give something back to the world for having gone through it.
In honour of you all I am going to start sharing some of the strength I have been gathering… tonight I’ve decided that I’m going to start volunteering at a women’s shelter. Through all of this, I have been aware that having a great job is a MAJOR difference between what happens to me next and what happens to women without financial security. I pledge to share this strength with others…. and help empower more people to say no to suffering, say yes to life…. and become the beautiful people they were born be.
Father’s Day today. And I got to be the lose-bag who doesn’t speak to her husband or father. Well… I took some chances today. (EDIT: Actually, they are the losebags for their choices. Not me.)
When we got the copy of the recognizance for J’s restraining order, it said that he could see our daughter if arranged through a third party (not what we were told originally). I gave it a lot of thought and decided that Father’s Day with mutual friends was reasonable and not something I wanted to withold by any means. So our mutual friends acted as that third party today, and since they too have a three year old daughter, I was able to drop her off at their house. I brought over the backyard swimming pool and they had a ball all day. When I picked her up this afternoon, I saw him – just his black t-shirt, crouching over to help our daughter with something. But now I’m haunted.
Addiction strikes. I’ve always loved his arms…… just one glimpse and I’m having fantasies of kissing him – the kind of kiss I know we’d have after a separation like this.
I am feeling weak and unholy tonight. There is something you lose in marriage in the way of desire for the other. Something that thinking they’re gone for good sort of brings back. God – how I miss the times… you know? The drunk times, the wild times…… many, many years ago. We were always a hot and cold, high and low, in love and in hate couple. But imagine that for a moment when it was good – we were hot, high, & in love.
Whatever J and I were leading up to last Friday; a couple, a disintegrating marriage, an un-couple — I think that us is dead. I’m pretty sure the combo of me putting my foot down, a night in jail, the scare of a lifetime, enforced separation, and the involvement of ‘the law’ — has all worked together to put that old marriage in its grave.
Good riddance, I want to say. But of course it’s never that simple. Does still wanting him like this mean something is alive?
I know that my own soul has moved past that person, that life, that relationship. What I need to do is open myself up to the idea that I will attract new things into my life that are a better and healthier fit. <— healthy thought of the day hahah.
That sucky old me is gone. Feels like I went through a portal that day that I’ll never come back from. I came into my own. I feel different in my skin. Maybe it’s being away from him too.
Also realized what a co-dependant TWOT I’ve been…. never again.
And that version of him I’m sure is gone. I hope it is, anyway.
And that us – dead. Gone in all of it’s rightness and wrongness, beauty and harm.
If there is ever to be a new ‘us’ born, so be it – and it is my hope, in my heart, that our love might be reborn in some other configuration; one of gratitude and grace, acceptance and camaraderie. That’s the dream. Whether it’s possible between two people whose love went way south and way sour – I don’t know. Maybe we’ll be one of those couples that divorces and remarries. (Probably an hour with the son of a bitch would stop my romanticizing in it’s tracks, but hey – what can I say?)
I miss my man. If not him, then some phantom or ideal which was – is – my husband.
I’m not feeling vindictive or vindicated, just kind of at peace. And mourning for two people who lost their love.
Heartbeats – the saddest, most romantic song of all time. Heard it while getting coffee this morning. Almost lost my shit.
And another that I’m thinking about today…
True Colours – CYNDI LAUPER
More than once, J would look at me with tears in his eyes when this song came on. It was a shared moment between us, this song – his way of saying thanks for seeing through his bullshit. He used to say music understood him better than people.
Who is he? Who am I? Why is love so complicated? I have been ‘finished’ with so many people before, never to turn back – or even care! I guess a part of me believes we can never actually divorce…. as long as our hearts remain tied. FACK.
You with the sad eyes…. don’t be discouraged….
Just back from Manhattan. Not a great trip because of the water situation at home, but I did feel so completely OVER drinking. (Actually had to force myself to have a SIP of Veuve just to be social….. WAIT, what? Who am I? Force…. Veuve…..? who am I???
I… am a smart woman of independent means who knows better. One of my colleagues kept talking about wine this and wine that and how she won’t make friends with people who don’t drink wine.
Really, lady? REALLY? That’s your defining characteristic for human friendship? Not humour or kindness or intelligence?
But that used to be me, 110%. Wine was my biggest hobby. Ugh. I’m just turned off by alcohol in every way now. (Although obviously still a little obsessed by it, huh?! lol. I know, I know…)
There was a time when I would have said this (below) was the sexiest thing about ANY hotel room, and my enjoyment of said hotel room would have depended on it (well, on its bigger bottle brothers and sisters)
Oh HAI mini-bar! You are shiny!
But all that glitters is not gold…..
What was really sexy was way outside that dumb fridge.
Like my beautiful view from the 22nd floor:
AND … A Big cozy bed….
Now – sadly – back at home, in my waterless house. But so happy to be home with my family.
LOVE is the sexiest thing of all. Go make some ; ) If that’s not an option, I’d say SLEEP is the next best thing, and that’s usually available!
So I had two glasses of wine last week.
Admitting it here because I’m tempted to feel ashamed of myself and I think that’s silly. But feeling ashamed in case anyone is following this blog that also gets tempted and has not caved. I don’t want to be a bad influence. And I am not changed by the wine – Still 110% a lover of sober living.
I stopped drinking to break an addiction, a bad habit that had a hold of me. And I’ve succeeded. I broke with sobriety last week because it all started feeling just a bit too uppity for me. I have issues with being too goody goody.
Actually, I think what triggered it was talking to both a therapist and an addiction counsellor who were both (in my perception) seeming to lean on the “your situation is not dire” side. The addiction counsellor even mentioned that social drinking could be on the horizon for me, probably because I was never a ‘problem drinker’ but just a normal woman who got too dependant. Or something. You know what, fuck that – he shouldn’t have said anything like that to a 4 months sober person.
So here’s what happened. My husband took me out for a fantastic date, and has been so great lately. So I had a glass of wine. It was fine. It was okay. I didn’t get drunk or feel funny or really enjoy it. But the night itself was a really special, wonderful night. He took me to a funky restaurant and then to a pre-show at the art gallery, and THEN a secret dance party.
One glass of wine. Previous life? I would have been drunk the entire night, and hell bent on getting more so no matter what time it was.
As for glass of wine #2:
At the weekly ‘bar cart’ on Friday afternoons at work, I also indulged. I usually say no and feel SO AWKWARD about saying no. It’s also a huge social lubricant that I’ve missed.
But after one glass I felt.. inappropriate and … a bit nauseous.
So there it is. I am now possibly, officially, a normal person who just has a glass of wine now and then and enjoys it minimally.
TO anyone who might be reading this in recovery: That wine cannot hold a candle to the internal and lasting strength I have (and you have) built being a non-drinker. There is no glass of wine that will turn me back in time to what I was.
Yesterday I became obsessed with Amelia Earhart for the first time. It was the first time she really affected me, you know? Even though I had heard her story before.
That high-achievement, earnestness, positivity and keen attitude…. So inspiring.
But then I stopped and wondered — is it just me or is there some connection to over-achievers and a general lack of bad-assness?
Isn’t there just something inherently more intriguing about …. demons, self-destructiveness, and….. You know, all the things that typically go with a bourbon?
When I feel tempted to drink it’s about one thing only: allegiance to the losers, poets, sufferers and generally bad ass humans in the world. And the general want to be BAD.
But then Amelia will go and say something like this:
And I’m even more tempted to leave bad ass behind entirely ….. In favour of soaring …..physically and mentally Flying higher than high…..into the real and actual world, playing with real and actual fire, taking real and actual risks.
Bad ass is maybe not the best route for me anymore.
Unless perhaps I’ve misunderstood it all along.
See, I’ve always thought that rebelliousness was about not doing what I was supposed to. You want me to do what, how? Nah – I’m not going to do that. Gonna do it my way, in my time, or not at all. It was a kind of rebellion against authority. It was an attitude thing. Like James Dean or the Jets in West Side Story. Or Yolandi Visser. Or Chan Marshall.
These examples are hard to come up with actually! A bad ass who is still successful and blazing trails? I had to pick pretty obscure examples.
But it’s the people who refuse to do things your way. And they decide what’s cool.
I guess it comes down to the attitude part, because Amelia Earhart actually had a substantial rebellious streak. She just had a positive attitude. So for me, I think, it’s about accepting that I can rebel without having a bad attitude, and that might actually be the key to groundbreaking, earth-shattering, meaningful success.
A la Amelia Earhart.