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  • Venting: Does it Help or Hurt?

    Venting, we all do it, but does it help us or hurt us? To be honest with you, I’m angry and annoyed with a lot of people and a lot of situations in my life. Mind you these situations are not unique to me nor are they really terrible like some of the atrocities that are happening in our world today. However, they affect my life, and I don’t like it. I’m preaching to the choir, right? Which one of you hasn’t been annoyed or angry at one time or another? As I type this, I already feel better if I’m being honest. I’m sure that is partly because I realize how petty my problems are compared to the rest of the world. I’m also guessing I feel a little better just getting this off my chest, so I’ll continue. Everything that is bothering me revolves around finding myself in situations with others that are not acting the way that I think they should be acting. I have expectations that people will do what they say they are going to do. When these people don’t follow through, I get frustrated and upset. Logically I know my thoughts are wrong, but I’m guessing that I’m not alone in my feelings. What person doesn’t want everyone else in the world to do all things how they see fit? There is someone in my life that rarely follows through with their promises. I’ve learned over the years to take what they say with a grain of salt. For example, if they say be over at 5pm for dinner what they really mean is dinner will be served around 7pm or 8pm. Many times, they will enlist others to do what they said they would do, and it frustrates me. The worst is when they tell my children that they will do something and then don’t. It happens over and over again. Through sobriety I have learned that I can’t blame everyone else and not look at the role that I played. I’m very aware that one of my character defects is not telling someone when I’m angry. I’ve learned over the years how important communication is to not only my relationships but also to my serenity and sobriety. I have expressed my frustrations to this person and tried to explain why I get so angry; however, they have not changed. I also recognize that I’m trying to play the conductor of the show. I’m trying to force the people in my life to do what I think is right. I’ve learned through AA how bad it is to attempt to exert one’s will onto others. Part of me wants to yell at this person and say “This is why I get angry with you! But I know that screaming and yelling at someone in a fit of anger isn’t beneficial to anyone. I don’t need to yell. I’ve tried to have conversations with them about this, and I think now it’s just better if I get it off my chest and lower my expectations. Just writing this blog entry has helped so far. I think it’s enough to tell all of you that are reading. What I’m unsure of is if I’m expecting too much from others. When I was drunk, I couldn’t be counted on for anything. I had no integrity. I would say one thing just to turn around and do the opposite. After getting sober and working the 12 steps I got better at this, but I wasn’t perfect by any means. I wouldn’t lie to you knowing I wasn’t going to follow through, but I also still made excuses for when I let someone down. I was used to making excuses because it’s what I’ve done since I was a kid. I never learned that it’s ok to say no without an excuse. As an adult my first sponsor told me one that “No” is a full sentence. Meaning that I’m allowed to say no without telling someone why. My Fiancé’ has had a huge impact on my integrity. I’ve become more dependable since meeting him. He has more integrity than anyone else I know. He will not commit to anyone or anything until he is certain that he can deliver. The standard he holds himself to is astonishing. While at first this caused some problems in our relationship, I have come to love this quality about him. When he tells me he will do something I know that it will get done, sometimes even to his detriment. Which is something he has to be careful of. Excess even in something good can be problematic, but that is his problem, not mine. I’m aware that I’ve changed my actions to mirror his for our relationship to work. There were a few times that I said I would do something that I deemed silly or rather unimportant. The first time I got busy, or the item became inconvenient for me I tossed it to the side. My fiancé was devastated, and he showed it. Although I felt that he was overreacting I soon realized that there was truth in his reaction. The bottom line was I made a promise, and I didn’t keep my promise because it was an inconvenience at the time. If something real had prevented me from accomplishing my promise, then he would have understood. In reality something came up making it harder for me, so I just didn’t do it and that’s wrong. Over the years this family member that makes promises which are rarely fulfilled has told me that I’m too hard on them, or that I react to strongly when they drop the ball. Maybe they’re right, maybe I am too hard on them. However maybe they just don’t have any integrity and it’s easier to push the issue back onto me saying that I’m too rigid. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I remember that I’m not the conductor of my life or anyone else. I cannot expect everyone to do as I say. Instead, I need to manage my expectations and learn from them. In this case that means that I need to remember when someone has a history of not following through, I need to not count on them. I’m allowed to opt out of participating in whatever they want me to participate in. I’m allowed to say no and not feel bad. It will save myself and them anger in the long run. If you have something that you need to vent about do so in the comments. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is. We are all affected by the people, places, and things in our lives. By venting we are allowed to get it off our chest and we feel better because of it. #family #holidays #sober

  • The Sober Life:

    Kendra here. I'm an alcoholic with 14 continuous years of sobriety under my belt, who is looking to share a little part of my world. I'm also an avid fitness enthusiast and I'm always looking for new ways to stay active. I have a love/hate relationship with running and have very recently taken up Girya (kettlebell sport). I just finished my first book, a memoir and I'm in the process of looking for an agent or publisher who wants to take a gamble on me. Come with me as I share my experiences trying to get published while staying sober, working, raising my family, running and drinking a lot of coffee. If you are someone who is taking each day as it comes, has ever felt like you're holding on by the skin or your teeth all the while trying to stay grateful then come hang out with me. I think we might have a few things in common. Keep on reading as I tackle all that life throws at me while putting my sobriety first. #sober #runner #mother

  • The Emotional Side of Running

    I've never been a runner. In my previous life, before finding sobriety, and before having children I worked as a personal trainer who specialized in boxing instruction. I loved everything about boxing and although I never competed, I often spared with the "real" boxers in the ring. Although I spared almost every Saturday morning, I knew I couldn't compete because boxers have to run as part of their conditioning. I hated running and therefore accepted my fate to spar only. Many years later, even after running three half marathons, numerous 5k's and a full marathon I didn't consider myself a "runner". When I started running, I hated it. I never set out to run any races. I've always walked and jogged for weight loss and to stay in shape, but I never ran. In fact, I stumbled into running when I was going through the 75 Hard program. 75 hard is a mental discipline program but it incorporates many fitness aspects into it. The program consists of completing several different tasks each day, every day for you guessed it 75 days. One of the tasks I needed to complete each day was working out for 45 mins outside. I chose to run mainly because I looked like a weirdo hauling my kettlebells onto my deck to do an outdoor workout. I knew nothing about running when started. I laced up my sneakers and put one foot in front of the other. As much as I hated it and as much pain, I was in from wearing improper running shoes I was kind of amazed how I went from not being able to run a mile to running 3 miles over the course of my 75 days. After putting up with blistered feet which caused me not to being able to get pedicures over the summer, I decided I needed real running shoes. When I bit the bullet and purchased a pair everything changed. I was no longer in pain with each step that I took. I learned that when you run your feet swell. Runners need to size up their running shoes to compensate for this. After a week or so of wearing proper shoes that fit my blisters healed and I felt better. I finished the 75 hard program and decided to tackle a half marathon. What can I say, I needed another goal. As I trained for my half marathon, I signed up for a 5k and completed it. I thought I should at least know what to expect from a race. I finished the 5k in the middle of my age group and felt pretty good about that. Each week of Half Marathon training came a long run on the weekends. I was terrified when my long run was 5 miles. How was I ever going to make it? But somehow, I did, and it made me hungry to see just how many more miles I could run. That hunger took me all the way to training for a full marathon. The 5k and two half marathons were the only races I officially ran before the full Marathon. I skipped over running an official 10k. Mainly because most races are listed as 5k, half-marathon and marathon. The full marathon I chose to run was in my hometown. As I looked over the course, I realized that it would take me through my old stomping grounds where I drank and blacked out on many occasions. I was scared and nervous to run those streets. How would I feel running through streets on a Sunday morning when the last time I was there I was too drunk to walk? Would I breakdown? Would I miss drinking? What was going to happen? To make a long story short, nothing happened, at least not during the marathon. By the time I got to any place that I had previously drank I was too exhausted to notice or even care. I also didn't even recognize the area anymore. So much had physically changed that I couldn't even recognize the locations where I partied and drank. If it wasn't for the marathon flags telling me where to go, I probably would have gotten lost even though I had spent numerous evenings out in that part of town. I finished the marathon without any bad feelings about my drinking days. It's been just under a year since my marathon and it’s still taking me time to enjoy running again. One thing that has helped get me back to the joy in running is my kids. Both of my young kids participated in track for the first-time last school year, and both really enjoyed it. A few weeks ago I asked them if they wanted to run a 5k with me. My daughter the oldest of the two has run a turkey trot as well as another 5k with me. But my son hadn't run longer than a mile. They both wanted to run the 5k this time, so I signed us all up. Although it was difficult for us (did I mention I took a break after the marathon and was nowhere up to par with my previous running pace) we had a great time running the 5k. Running that race with both my kids and seeing their reactions after we completed it brought real joy to me. I could see how proud they were of themselves and how even though they struggled through they enjoyed it. So much so that my son asked if he and I could do a turkey trot this year. I felt the running bug biting me again. As I started searching through upcoming races and I settled on a 10k mainly because I wanted to add it to my collection of finisher medals. I found one scheduled 2 weeks after the 5k we had just run and signed myself up. I didn't realize that this time when the course took me through a similar part of town that I used to drink at I wouldn't be so exhausted to overlook my old stomping grounds. It was a beautiful morning when the 10k started. I was by myself since this was way to far for my kids to run. As I started running through the streets, I felt very good. I wasn't tired, in fact physically I felt amazing. However, these good feelings were all about to change. As the route turned onto a different road, I realized how many times I had been there years before drunk, stumbling around with people I thought were my friends but who truly didn't care about me at all. The longer I ran the more uneasy I felt. Memories of drunkenness flooded my mind. Shame, guilt, and pity for the young girl I used to be. As I ran I tried not to think of the streets and neighborhood I was physically running through. I closed my eyes to shield the thoughts from entering my brain. I told myself that I'm different now, no longer a young woman without an understanding of the disease that caused her drunkenness. However as much as I willed myself not to feel sad and depressed about the 15 years I lost to drinking, the feelings only intensified. As tears started to fill my eyes, I wasn't surprised. Some part of me knew this was coming. I've read enough memoirs, listened to enough podcasts and been to enough therapy sessions to understand that you can't forget or lock away thoughts and feelings indefinitely. Although I have worked the 12 steps of AA and taken a hard look in the mirror, I still sometimes get sucker punched by my past. This was one of those times. The tears were light but still there when the next song on my running playlist shuffled through. "I've paid my dues Time after time I've done my sentence But committed no crime And bad mistakes‒ I've made a few I've had my share of sand kicked in my face But I've come through And I need to go on and on, and on, and on We are the champions, my friends And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end We are the champions We are the champions No time for losers" 'Cause we are the champions of the world' As I listened to Freddie Mercury sing his heart out on Queen's song "We are the champions" it hit me. I survived, for the last 13 years I've survived the disease of Alcoholism. A cunning and persistent disease that takes up space in my mind all the while tempting me to forget it exists. "And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end" Yes, I've survived but I have not beaten Alcoholism. I know enough about my deadly disease to understand that I must keep on fighting until the end, until the last breath I take. Because if I don't then the disease will take hold and kill me. As the song continued it was as if all the pain and shame was simply washed off me. I smiled as I ran, knowing that I was in fact someone who survived hard times, survived my own mistakes and delt with the consequences. But I didn't stop there. I kept moving in the right direction. Slowly at first, but steadily. Placing one foot in from of the other, in the right direction. Look at me now running a 10k on a Saturday morning at 7 am. When many years ago I would have been too hungover to even wake up at 7 am on a Saturday, let alone go run 6.2 miles for the sheer joy of it. I've changed, the drunk girl who didn't understand her limitations and was too embarrassed to look at herself in the mirror had turned into a woman who looked in the mirror, saw who she was and said, "lace up your shoes, it's time to run". I've heard "we are the champions" many times over the years and although it's catchy and motivating it was never one of my favorites until this day. For whatever reason on the day I ran my 1st "official"10k race as I felt grief and sadness wash over me this song came through my headphones right as I needed it. It showed me that not only have I survived but I have flourished. For that I'm truly grateful. #run #queen #alcoholic

  • Why We Must Remember the Gulags of the USSR.

    I’m currently reading The Gulag Archipelago by: Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn and it is shocking. I expected to be uncomfortable reading it, however nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to find on the pages. Born in 1979, growing up in the 1980’s, I watched the Berlin wall fall. Although I was young, I knew that what was unfolding on the TV before me was an important part of history. Years later I went on to earn a BA in Political Science, studied communism, and focused on international relations. Nonetheless it wasn’t until I started reading The Gulag Archipelago that I learned the atrocities that ensued under Lenin and Stalin. As I read, it dawned on me the lack of knowledge that younger generations have regarding political ideology. As the Cold War ended Communism was seen as evil and yet now, somehow, it’s become almost welcome as an acceptable alternative. What changed? As the cold war came to an end in 1991, the Berlin wall was literally torn down by German citizens. They showed the world that Communism was a failure. However, when we fast forward 32 years to today we see large parts of our society leaning into dependance on the state. We have gotten so soft, so comfortable that we see any inconvenience as a tragedy against us. Everything offends us and upsets us. We are upset when our door dasher forgets our drink, even though we overlook the convenience of having food delivered to our front porch (yes, I’m guilty of this myself). We are outraged when someone disagrees with whatever opinion of ours, we are expressing. We have to take a mental health break when someone at work says we performed poorly (even when many times we did). We are both mentally and physically wea. What happened to us as a nation? How did we become so complacent? To find the answer all we have to do is look back to the Second World War. Between December 7th, 1941, and September 11th, 2001, there wasn’t a single attack on U.S soil. For 60 years the United States lived in a bubble of “safety”. After World War two any war that we fought in, financed, or gave aid to occurred outside the United States. One of the reasons that September 11th, 2001, was so devastating was because it happened on U.S soil. It’s easy to lose track of what our service men and women are doing overseas. Unless you have a family member in the armed forces most of us don’t pay attention to what is going on. When, however, you have loved ones flying for work, or leisure and their plane suddenly crashes into a building the feeling of safety dissipates. Nonetheless time allows people to forget. Memories fade away and what once shocked us, becomes an afterthought. September 11th, 2001 was twenty-two years ago. There are generations of adults that either weren’t alive when it happened or were too young to understand the significance. Even directly after the Twin Towers fell our lives didn’t change significantly, but our society began to slowly change. I believe the change started innocently enough when The Patriot Act was established to keep Americans safe from terrorists and signed into agreement in 2001 following the September 11th attacks. The Patriot Act is legislation passed in 2001 to improve the abilities of U.S. law enforcement to detect and deter terrorism. The act’s official title is, “Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism,” or USA-PATRIOT. Though the Patriot Act was modified in 2015 to help ensure the Constitutional rights of ordinary Americans, some provisions of the law remain controversial. (Editors, 2023) When the Patriot Act first came out, I was absolutely fine with it. I think that most Americans were. After witnessing the collapse of the world trade towers Americans were terrified. I remember thinking “let them tap my phone, I haven’t done anything wrong”. Unfortunately, the problem with that thought process is that it legally allows the government access into each individual’s life. What starts off as “protection” can very quickly become “corruption”. The first chapter of Gulag talks about when, where, and how civilians were arrested. Essentially anyone could be arrested at any time for anything at all. Civilians were rounded up like cattle and sent to prison. Entire towns were arrested at one time. But that’s not the part that terrifies me. Governments have been enacting control over their citizens for as long as Governments have existed. The truly terrifying part is that 99% of the citizens arrested simply followed the arresting officer into the Gulag without demanding to know what they were being arrested for. There was no trial, there was no jury, there was only obedience. They obeyed, they complied, they did exactly what they were told to do and because of their failure to act many of them died for nothing. Why would they do this, one might ask? Why wouldn’t they say no, put up a fight or in the very least demand to know what they were being arrested for. I do not know, however I’m sure fear had a lot to do with it. When one is that afraid of your government you don’t put up a fight. The younger generation of Americans can’t comprehend the complete lack of power the USSR’s citizens had. How can they understand when they live in a society where they have everything they need? When society placated and coddled them? Many grew up in one parent households where the parents weren’t equipped to raise a family on their own, so they turned to the state for help. If they were lucky enough to have both parents around, many times both parents worked and they were put into daycare, then grade school and public high school. I grew up in the exact situation I speak of. When my parents divorced my sister, and I were primarily raised by my mother. Although I knew my father and he contributed financially we did not receive the guidance of both parents’ day in and day out. Years later I myself had to rely on government assistance to put my own children into daycare while I worked as their father refused to contribute in any way. I don’t fault single parents; we are all trying to get through the day the best we can. As easy as it would be to do, we can’t blame our weakmindedness' on the breakdown of traditional values. Children that grew up with a “traditional family” were also done a true disservice. Sadly, I believe the culprit has been the past 70 years of prosperity that have created our weak society. Because the vast majority of Americans had their basic needs met and more, we never had to work for anything. Our parents wanted to give us everything that they didn’t have themselves when they grew up. It came from a place of love, what parent doesn’t want to give their children a better life than they had? But it spiraled out of control. We give our kids trophies for participating instead of winning, we enable them to the point where they return home continuing to live off of us instead of forging a life of their own. We teach them their feelings are more important than reality, telling them they are healthy and beautiful no matter what they look like or how unhealthy they really are. The intentions are good, but we all know that the road to hell is paved by good intentions. This was done in an effort to make kids feel good, and now they rely on everyone else including the government to take care of them. Wait a moment though…. What’s wrong with the government taking care of us? Isn’t that the role of our government? We have to remember that when you trust an entity to keep you secure you are forced to give up freedom. In order to keep citizens, secure the government has to take away certain freedoms. For example, driving a car wouldn’t be safe if traffic laws didn’t exist. If anyone was allowed to drive at any age people would be dying all the time. Imagine an 11-year-old behind the wheel of a car. Or if an electrician didn’t need schooling but could work on any faulty powerline just to get a paycheck. Imagine the deaths that could occur. Laws and guidelines keep people safe. But where do we draw the line? The government will take care of our children. It will take care of us all. It will give us shelter, keep us safe, provide health care for the diseases we have given ourselves as we ingest the prepared and processed food the government provides. The government is more than happy to give us all of these things and many more for a very small price. The price for all of these government provisions is simply our freedom. It is very simple; society can’t be free and secure at the same time. Today’s security has far surpassed basic security measures. Forget driver’s licenses and electrician certifications. Our society is making sure that everyone’s feelings are secure. What a tragedy it would be if someone felt sad or not good enough. Society can’t allow that! These days if you speak the English language correctly by addressing someone with their proper pronoun, or if you say you aren’t attracted to a woman who is 350lbs you are a misogynist. You must go along with and agree to what anyone says they are or aren’t. Truth and reality don’t matter, but feelings do. You can’t prefer one thing over another, you have to like everything exactly the same. Women are exactly the same as men and can do whatever they want, unless they want to stay at home and raise children. If you want that as a woman you are pathetic and a fascist. The government promotes and allows this to happen. It does so by mandating a certain number of jobs to specific groups of people even if they are less qualified. It does this by not allowing certain races into colleges. The list goes on and on. What kind of security is this? Are we safe? Are our children safe? Are we all getting along, living in one utopian country? We are not. As much as the government and society try to make everyone happy and equal it is impossible. Feelings will be hurt; life isn’t fair and dictating the way people should speak or act never works. Who is society and the government protecting? Are they protecting you for your own good or their own good? As we the people continue to allow the government to dictate what we say, the way we live our lives and raise our children, we are handing over our freedom for fake, unrealistic, and unattainable security. The United States Government is growing larger every year. It is taking more control of our lives. We pay higher taxes, we pay higher healthcare premiums, we eat more processed food, we buy from corporations instead of small businesses because it’s easy and convenient. We ignore truth and reality all in the name of altruism. The family system is breaking down because we are told that we are all the same and that we don’t need men. The truth is that we do need men just as much as we need women. It is our differences that make us perfect. We forget or have never been taught that sacrificing oneself for the greater good is the root of communism, tyranny, and death. The Gulag’s need to be remembered. The books need to be read. History is doomed to repeat itself if it is not taught from one generation to the next. #history #socialism #government

  • Alcoholic Induced Super Powers

    As alcoholics we often dwell on the negative. Who can blame us, we have all caused a lot of havoc and pain in our lives and the lives of others. Even after fourteen years of sobriety I often look back and feel bad about my past. In fact, I’ve been doing it more and more as of late. With each sobriety anniversary I remember where I was years ago and instantly feel bad for the pain I caused. Anniversaries bring both happiness and regret, all wrapped in one. I have had a lot of years to think about being an alcoholic, 14 years at the writing of this post. During the past 14 years there have been a few times that I’ve wondered if my alcoholism and recovery have in fact helped me. Could I now be a better version of myself? Recovery has given me many tools that have changed who I am and the way that I live my life. Although I’m now different, could these changes morph me into a better human? A better daughter, friend, employee, and parent. In a world where alcoholics and addicts are looked down on, I think it’s important that people see our strengths as well. Therefore, I’ve listed the below way that being an alcoholic has made me a better person. I like to refer to them super power alcoholics have. Self-Aware: I am extremely self-aware of my actions, regardless of if these actions are good or bad. By working through the twelve steps of alcoholics anonymously I have had to look at myself in the mirror and see what part I have played in my life. Guess what? I’ve played a very large part. In fact, I’ve been a major player in all of it. Whenever I have an argument, disagreement or a situation that makes me unhappy I’m able to stop and ask myself what role have I played? Was I stubborn, inconsiderate, or just plain mean? Was I scared and if so, did my fear cause me to act in an inappropriate way. Many times, even when I didn’t start the altercation, I participated in it longer than I needed to. By looking into the role, I played I can then make changes to my own actions and move forward. Do I need to apologize? Do I need to make my expectations clearer or lower them all together? By looking at the role I played I can free myself by changing myself. I can’t change anyone else in each scenario, but I can change myself, how I react and what I do. Guess what? After I make the proper adjustments, the situation gets better. Empathy: When I was actively drinking, I was very sick emotionally. When I got sober and started working the steps of AA, I was still sick, but I was on the road to recovery. As I worked on my program, I hoped that those around me could see how sick I had been. Therefore, when I get upset by someone else’s actions I have to remind myself that they are just as spiritually and emotionally unhealthy as I was. Over the last number of years, I’ve also learned that you don’t have to be an alcoholic to be emotionally unwell. When I look at others in this way it allows me to be empathetic to them and pray for their health. I truly hope that they get better. Why wouldn’t I? If they are able to heal whatever is going on with themselves, it can only make our interactions better. This doesn’t mean that I have to like the way they are treating me or go along with their actions. But it does allow me to view them in a different light and feel empathy for them and the situation that they are in. By remembering how sick I was and how many people treated me with kindness, I’m able to view others as sick themselves and therefore treat them with the kindness that was allotted to me. Humility: This superpower is a bit of a hard one to write about because writing about how humble I am is a contradiction in terms. How can I say I have learned humility and see myself as insignificant when I’m writing about myself? The best thing I can say and the easiest way to express this is that recovery has taught me that I am nobody. This is not to say that I’m not important, but I have changed my perception from everything being about me to understanding that nothing is about me. The way a person reacts to me, or any situation that I’m in rarely has anything to do with me. As the Big Book says, “On that basis we are almost always in collision with something or somebody, even though our motives are good. Most people try to live by self-propulsion. Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole show; is forever trying to arrange the lights, the ballet, the scenery, and the rest of the players in his own way. If his arrangements would only stay put, if only people would do as he wished, the show would be great. Everybody, including himself, would be pleased. Life would be wonderful.”. (Bill, 2002) In recovery I’ve learned that I must give up my will. I have to understand that I am nothing and that as life happens around me, I must not try to change it to what I believe is right. I feel very uncomfortable when people praise me for things. It’s not because I don’t believe feel good about my accomplishments, I do. However, if I start to pat myself on the back, rest on my laurels or relax into the fruits of my labor it’s in my nature to become complacent in all aspects of my life and to be complacent for an alcoholic is to die. Being humble may seem uncomfortable or even be annoying to others. But I’m learning to embrace it. Humility, Empathy & Self-Awareness are only 3 of what I like to call my superpowers. Superpowers that were given to me by being an alcoholic that is in recovery. I often think about how the world would be different if all people could embrace these three things. Would the tyrants who wage wars be able to face themselves when looking in the mirror? Would the boss at the office feel differently towards her fellow employees if she was able to hear the tone she used in a meeting or the sigh in her voice when addressing her subordinates? Personally, I believe that the world could change. For all the times I feel bad about my disease and the pain it has caused for not only those who knew me while I was actively drinking but also myself, I also am learning to be thankful for it. I’m learning to be thankful for the blood that runs in my veins, even though it is diseased, for without it I would not be this version of myself. Without alcoholism and recovery, I would not be able to look in the mirror and move forward, nor would I be able to feel for and love those whom the average person deems unfit. For I myself was one of the most undeserving of all. Most importantly I wouldn’t be able to stop asserting my will into everything and everyone around me. It feels good to know I am merely a pawn in the great game of chess we call life. For that I could not be more grateful. #alcoholism #recovery #sober

  • Acceptance Sucks, but with it Comes Serenity.

    Accepting something that you don’t like is one of the hardest things in life to do and that is exactly the current situation I find myself in. To make matters worse there are multiple things going on that I need to accept. Being the alcoholic that I am I do a tremendous job of digging my heels in and making not only myself but those round me miserable in times like this. While I’m not proud of this, it is true. As weird as this may sound there is a sick part of me that actually enjoys wallowing in pain and misery. I very much have a martyr complex at times and that’s not good. Feeling bad for myself is not only counter productive but can also put me in harm’s way. When something happens that I don’t like I try to figure out how I can make the situation to my liking. Sometimes I’m able to change the situation but many times I’m met with resistance. When I encounter this resistance, I get very angry as I’m not able to change it. After fighting against reality, I realize that I must accept the situation in order to move forward without pain. A recent example of a situation I found unacceptable was my last year’s taxes. Last year a received a small amount of money from a dear friend that passed away. Part of that money I had to pay tax on, and I was irate. How dare I have to pay tax on a gift? Logically I knew that I was in a better position receiving the money and paying tax on it than not receiving it at all. However, that didn’t stop me from becoming angry. My fiancé’ did my taxes for me and I could tell that he was hesitant to inform me what I was going to have to pay. So, there I was being a bitch to the man who was doing his best to help me in the situation I was in. It was not my most shining hour. Currently I’m dealing with two legal issues that make me fearful and scared for my future. What are these two legal issues you may ask? Did I do something illegal to bring them about? Will I have to pay large fines, or could I end up in jail? The answer is no. These items all have to do with money that I could not get later on in life, and it scares the hell out of me. It scares me partly because I’ve been poor before, and I don’t want to be poor again. After I left my ex-husband, I moved into an apartment with our two children. I started working at an entry level job making just slightly over minimum wage. If it wasn’t for government assisted childcare and food stamps, I would not have been able to eat. Things were rough financially, and I was living paycheck to paycheck. Over the next few years, I was able to move into better paying positions in the company I worked for, get off government assistance and build a small savings. Being poor isn’t fun but it does teach you a lot about life and survival. I’ve always been frugal but after going through a divorce and raising two small children on my own I’ve become even more frugal. I don’t live paycheck to paycheck anymore, but I also won’t allow myself to spend significant amounts of money. I have to save everything I have because I very much believe that tomorrow it will all be gone. For example, I own a very small percent of stock that I buy through my company’s discounted employee purchase program. The only reason I purchased it is because I’m able to buy it at a discounted rate. To me it’s not “real” money. I become almost infuriated when my dad and fiancé refer to stock as an asset. I’m sure it’s a very pathetic and unintelligent way to look at it but owning stock isn’t real money to me. The reason being is that it takes time to sell, and it can all crash at a moments notice. How soon we forget Black Tuesday when the Stock Market crashed in 1929. That’s less than 100 years ago. More recently in 2008 when people lost everything, they had in the stock market. I don’t have enough in my 401k to retire at 65 or possibly ever and therefore I can’t afford to take any chances. Which brings us back to my legal issues that are plaguing my thoughts every day. One of them, my fiancé’ has assured me he will do his best to minimize the impact on me, which I appreciate although it does not remove the hardship entirely. The other issue pertains to my parents’ Will. Although I wish their choices were different, I can’t change what they are doing. I have voiced my opinions and although the situation is better than I once thought, it is not ideal. I know that if left unchecked these two issues could at worst ruin my sobriety and at best ruin a few days of my life. After talking things through with the people in my life and then going to an AA meeting I’m doing ok. I’m not in jeopardy of losing my sobriety, and that I feel good about. But I have lost many hours of serenity this weekend. I haven’t slept and I’ve also been a bitch to people around me which isn’t right. It’s so hard to accept things even though I know that I’ll be more content when I do. I think part of me feels like I’m giving in if I accept the situation. Like I’m weak and not fighting for what I think is right. I’m a fighter by nature. Part of that is good. I fought to get off food stamps, and I fought for sole custody of my children. But I could not fight my alcoholism. To win that battle each day I have to surrender and accept that I cannot control anything. It’s funny because I accept that I’m powerless over alcohol, that only through my higher power can I be returned to sanity. If I know that a higher power can remove my desire to drink, then why is it so hard for me to let my higher power take over every aspect of my life? As I type this, I know that I have to hand this over and trust it will be ok. If I do that, I will again be freed from the torment I feel now in my current situation. In order to help myself I think I’ll end this post with the third step prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous. The 3rd Step Prayer God, I offer myself to Thee- To build with me and to do with me as Thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do Thy will. Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of life. May I do Thy will always! #sober #recovery #acceptance #AA

  • Enjoy Being a Kid Because it's Hard Being an Adult.

    “Enjoy being a kid.” My mom used to tell me that when I was younger and I’m really glad that she did. I distinctly remember listening to her and doing as she said. She told me this before I was a teenager and therefore, I was much more open to listening to her. My young brain listened to everything my mother told me. I tell my kids the same thing these days with hopes that they will listen to me. I’m now smart enough to know there is the possibility that the second my kids hit their teens they won’t listen to a damn thing I say. What no one tells us is how hard being an adult is. Let’s be honest, most of the time being an adult in mundane at best. If we are lucky enough to live in a country where we have freedom, food and shelter we shouldn’t complain about anything. I honestly can’t imagine being an adult who didn’t have those basic necessities. But here I am complaining. What it comes down to is that being a responsible adult is downright depressing often times. As adults we have to pay bills, and if you’re anything like me you’re probably not working a job that inspires you. It’s most likely not the job you rattled off when you were a kid after someone asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up. What child says that they want to grow up to work in middle management? Not too many I would guess. Although my job is one of the better ones I’ve had in my life, I do not enjoy it. I don’t hate it, but I also don’t like it. I feel neutral on something that I spend 40 hours a week on. I spend more waking hours at work than I do with my children. Tell me that isn’t depressing. Before I go off on a tangent about my job, I should note that it does have a number of perks that prevent me from stabbing myself in the neck with my pencil, one of these perks being who I work for. I’m very lucky to have a boss who’s smart, kind, and helpful. She gives me the best work/life balance I can expect from an 8 to 5 gig. I also work from home and therefore have no commute. The pay is not bad either and to be honest I’m probably making a bit more than the average person in my field. But that is where the good things end. My work does not inspire or excite me in any way shape or form. I have no passion for it. I work hard and I do a good job because I have a strong work ethic, however if I’m being really honest working in cooperate America kills a little part of my soul each day. As I mentioned the amount of time my job takes away from me is ridiculous. Who the hell came up with the standard 40-hour work week? I understand that we aren’t going to work for 2 days and have 5 off, but we couldn’t do 4 days on with 3 days off? Is that too much to ask for? Apparently so. I’ve never been the type of person to accept the situation I’m in, so I’m trying to do what I can to make more money in hopes that I can quit one day before I’m 65. I’ve written a memoir about my journey through alcoholism and I’m doing all I can to find an agent. I must admit it’s been a daunting process and I’ve been wondering if I should self-publish in order to get the book out there in case it could help someone. Meanwhile I’ve got braces I have to pay for as well as basketball shoes, a leaking water pipe and who knows what’s next. You, dear reader, understand because you’re living it the same as I am, maybe even worse. My parents aren’t sick, nor are my kids, thank God. Nonetheless I’m exhausted all of the time. It’s both mental and physical exhaustion that I feel. I don’t sleep anymore. Sometimes it’s stress that keeps me up and other times it’s simply being in my mid 40’s. It doesn’t matter what the cause, I’m lacking large amounts of sleep and it’s starting to take its toll. Mentally I’m at my wits end most of the time. All day long at work I’m making decisions that affect other people. I don’t want to mess that up. At home I’m taking care of my kids, cleaning the house and cooking. I come last and if I’m being completely honest that really sucks at times. Don’t get me wrong, I chose to have two children and I would not change that for the world. They have made me a better person; my life would lack meaning without them. I just never realized how little adults get for themselves on a daily basis. My kids are old enough that they have started telling me all the things they don’t want to do. They don’t want to put the dishes away, go to school or feed the pets. In moments of frustration, I have tried to explain that I do things every single day that I don’t want to do. Tonight, when I was putting my son to sleep this topic came up again. However, this time something funny and sad happened. My son was complaining about not wanting to do something. I started explaining to him how each of my days are filled with tasks I don’t want to do. I told him that most days I don’t do anything for myself, not one thing. He looked at me and said, “I know one thing you do for yourself; you drink coffee each day”. It was one of the sweetest and saddest things all wrapped up in one. As put him to sleep it occurred to me how sad it is that the only thing, I do for myself is make a cup of coffee. Adulthood is also lonely, and no one ever tells you that. When you’re a kid you are constantly surrounded by other kids at school. Even if you have a small family, you are always around teachers and your peers throughout most of the year. When you’re an adult you’re typically surrounded by people you work with. In today’s virtual world even if you go into an office, you are highly unlikely to interact with those people that sit near you because you’re busy on your computer. A lot of the time I find myself alone, after being tied to my desk for 8 to 9 hours it’s a struggle between relaxing a little after my kids go to sleep and wanting human interaction. As an adult I don’t have a group of people I can talk too when I’m sad or happy. Plus, a lot of people are too wrapped up in their own problems to be able to listen to yours. Even though there are many things that make me happy, the feelings change when you are an adult. Yes, I love my children, my fiancé, and my immediate family, but on a daily basis I don’t do things that I enjoy that children do. When we are kids, everything makes you happy. It could be playing with a friend, watching a good TV show, or putting on a favorite outfit. Whatever the thing is suddenly your filled with joy. As an adult I’m constantly searching for the little things in order to get through each day. I feel like most days I don’t have enough time to spend on important things like my children and fiancé. Instead, I’m sitting in a meeting, doing laundry or vacuuming. When you are a child you get into a groove, each day might be the same, but you attack it with joy and awe. As an adult you are stuck in a rut. Your routine dictates your life and when you deviate from it you feel worse about yourself because you’re out of sync. Adults, you worry about all of the unknowns that your future holds while as a kid your life is full of opportunities. I believe the way to brighten up the bleak world of adulthood is to produce personal freedom. How do I do that is the question? How do I give myself more time to do the things that I love? How do I even discover what those things are? I’ve always thought the answer could be found in achieving financial freedom. I know that money doesn’t buy happiness, but I do believe it free’s up time. If I can find more time to do some things for myself, I think that I would be happier which in turn would make me a better wife, mother, and daughter. At the same time, what if I’m wrong? There is the very real possibility that pursuit of financial gain won’t help me find what brings me joy. I don’t know what the answer is. But I’m going to do my best to find out. In the meantime, I need to remind my kids to enjoy being kids tomorrow, and then I’m going to make myself a cup of coffee. #Adult #Children #Hard

  • What Do You Do when You Can't Sleep?

    What do you do when you can't sleep? I apparently write random blog posts. I haven't gotten a good night’s sleep in the last 4 or 5 days because of stress. Even when I'm tired I don't sleep once I'm in bed. Melatonin doesn't work, so at this point I plan on just staying awake until I'm exhausted. It beats the depression I feel when I crawl into bed hoping to fall asleep and instead, I get a bolt of adrenaline instead. Let's answer a poll to find out what we all do when we are wide awake for one reason or another at two, three and four in the morning. Leave a message in the comments why you arent sleeping. Maybe if we get it off our chests we will be able to get some rest.

  • It’s ok to judge Alcoholics, just be kind when you do.

    Fourteen years ago, I sat on the floor of a bathroom stall in a public bus station and prayed to a God I couldn’t hear, see, or touch. That day will forever be etched into my mind as it marked my first day of sobriety. It is only through God and Alcoholics Anonymous that I have been able to stay sober for these past fourteen years. I give myself almost zero credit for my sobriety. In fact, the only thing that I did all those years ago and continue to do is give up all control. I surrendered, and in doing so my life has become amazing in many ways. Not in the ways that I pictured perhaps but in different, even better ways than I could have imagined. The most precious and important gift I’ve been given is the absence of craving alcohol. The desire to drink has been taken away from me. For many years before that day, I tried to control my drinking, when that didn’t work, I tried to quit drinking. Each time I tried, I failed. However, that all changed the day I begged God for help. God took the obsession I had to drink away from me. What followed was many meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous where I was introduced to other alcoholics who also had the obsession lifted. These angels were waiting for me at every meeting, waiting to ease my pain and calm my mind. As fellow alcoholics in recovery they showered me with their wisdom. They told me their own stories and taught me about the disease and its desire to kill me. With each conversation I had another piece of the puzzle settled into place. I remember my first sponsor explaining to me that the thoughts I had about being able to have “just one more” was my disease talking to me. The light switch flipped, and I finally understood that I couldn’t trust my own thoughts. I thank God for the angels he placed in each of those rooms of AA. Without them I wouldn’t be sober today. It gives me peace knowing that they are waiting everywhere for me all throughout the world in the rooms of AA, all I have to do is go sit down next to them. But if these fellow alcoholics are angels that were sent to me, then why is it I find myself years later embarrassed telling others I was one of them? Why am I still leery to tell certain people that I am an alcoholic? After I stopped drinking, I slowly started to repair my life. Part of this was done by looking in the mirror each day taking inventory of the role I played in the chaotic state that was my life. I worked the steps of AA which allowed me to change my behaviors, admit my faults, give up any notion that I controlled anything, apologize to those I had wronged and make amends. These steps as well as the other twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous changed the trajectory of my life. The more people that I told I was an alcoholic, the more relaxed I became. As new people moved into my life it inevitably came up in one way or another. When I met someone who did not know I was an alcoholic, and I was offered a drink I simply said I didn’t drink. Nine times out of ten that person asked me why and I replied “Because, I’m an alcoholic.” I was pleasantly surprised that no one seemed to really care about it. Sometimes they would ask me questions, which I became very used to and we would move on. It worked out well. Often times this open discussion would allow them to share personal information about themselves or loved ones. I had people reach out to me asking if I would speak to a family member or if they could give my number to someone. I would always answer yes. As the years rolled on it became second nature to tell people I was in recovery, however there were a few hiccups. My fiancé’ for example never asked me why I didn’t drink when we first met. On our second date our server asked us if we wanted a drink with dinner and when I said no, he didn’t look at me or question me. The night continued effortlessly. A few more weeks into our relationship I started to feel uneasy that he didn’t know. I wasn’t hiding anything from him, it simply never came up, but my sobriety was something he needed to know about, therefore I told hm one night when I was at his house. He wasn’t fazed and we continued our relationship. It wasn’t until years later that I felt self-conscious again about telling someone about my disease. I started hanging out with a woman who lived in my neighborhood. Our children were close in age, we worked out at the same gym, and soon discovered we had a lot in common. Because we were both mothers of younger children we rarely participated in activities where drinking would be involved. Drinking never came into the picture. That was until she asked me to go to a bar to meet a local politician she hoped to support. I probably would have been okay to go but the bar that was hosting happened to be one where I had terrible memories of drinking. I was suddenly incredibly nervous to tell my new friend the reasons that I couldn’t attend. After a few days of mental turmoil on my part, I knew I had to be honest with her. I finally had the conversation with her and explained why I couldn’t attend the political event. She seemed ok, thanked me for telling her and even came over the next day where we discussed in it more detail. Unfortunately, that was the last time we had any meaningful interaction. Slowly our friendship became non-existent. In the weeks that followed, we went from talking frequently and having our children spend time together to not talking or going on nightly walks together. Was it because I told her I’m an alcoholic? I don’t have any tangible way of knowing and if I had to guess I think there were probably other reasons that she turned away from me. But I would be lying if I didn’t say that it hurt. As an adult it’s difficult to make new friends and I enjoyed her friendship. Whatever the reason, I was sad when it ended. This incident as well as a few others me that even with many years sobriety I will never be free from the shame and guilt of my past. I will always be judged for a disease that I inherited. It doesn’t matter how I deal with the disease, and it doesn’t matter what I do to stay sober. I’m still and will always be an alcoholic. When I’m in a good spot spiritually and emotionally I understand why I’m judged. I understand that people have to make decisions on who to spend time with, and who to allow their children to be around. We alcoholics have committed unspeakable acts, we have hurt ourselves and others. I understand the stigma. Nonetheless, my understanding doesn’t take away the pain I feel when the judgement comes. Often times I wonder if I will ever be free from my past or if I will always have it come back to haunt me. How many years must pass before I don’t have to feel bad about who I am or what I’ve done? Is it one year, five, or twenty-five? What’s the magic number? I’ve been asking myself this question a lot as I enter my fourteenth year of sobriety. This year my kids and I are traveling to my fiancé’s parents’ home to celebrate Thanksgiving with them. His parents do not know that I’m an alcoholic, and although I’ve been in a relationship with their son for the last eight years, I dread telling them. Because let’s be honest, they will not be happy to find out their soon-to-be daughter-in-law is an alcoholic. I don’t blame them, who would be happy to discover this news? I myself go back and forth on the way I feel about my alcoholism. There are times when I have embraced all that it has given me. Without alcoholism I would not be as self-aware as I am. Going through the twelve steps of AA has made me a better person. A person that I would not have ever become without being an alcoholic. I often think about how the program could help those who don’t have problems with drinking. The twelve steps can be applied to all aspects of life. But am I happy that I’m an alcoholic? I don’t know if I can say yes. I don’t wish this disease on anyone, and I’m terrified that my kids will inherit it from me. As much as I want to hide the truth about my disease, I know that I need to tell my future in-laws about it for a few reasons. The most important being that I can’t ingest any alcohol of any kind at Thanksgiving dinner. My father-in-law is somewhat of a gourmet cook and I know many times alcohol is used in cooking. Typically, the alcohol itself burns off but I don’t feel comfortable tasting it in food even if there isn’t any alcohol content. The second thing is that if they offer me a drink and I say no, one of my darling children could easily say something like “Mom, doesn’t drink. She’s allergic.” Which of course is true but would lead to an uncomfortable conversation at the dinner table. Therefore, I need to tell them beforehand, and I dread it. I have practiced in my mind what words to use and how I will bring it up. Each time I think about it my stomach seizes, my breath quickens, and I feel sick. The longer I put it off the longer I torment myself. The sad thing is that I know on the surface it will be ok. They will be kind and probably even thank me for telling them. They will reassure me that this doesn’t change the way they feel about me. But I also know they won’t be happy; they will worry about this woman their son is getting ready to marry and again I can’t blame them. I’ve learned in sobriety that just because you get sober doesn’t mean that life gets easier. Life still happens. As we say inside the rooms “we have to live life on life’s terms.” I’ve also learned that I can manage demanding situations and stay sober. In fact, this conversation will probably make me stronger, but I’m still allowed not to like it, and I dread having it. As I continue to stress myself a little while longer, trying to construct the perfect conversation to have with my future in-laws I think about everyone out there that doesn’t have this disease. I think about a dear friend I had for many years. When I told him my story, he looked at me with his kind old eyes and he said, “That’s great, you beat it.” I just smiled, not having the heart to tell him that I’ll never beat it, that it’s part of me and always will be until the day that I die. Perhaps the right way to explain it is that God, and his angels in AA have smothered my disease. It’s still there, resting, waiting for me to forget about it, but as long as I stay close to God and AA the disease is kept at bay. This is one of the reasons why I thank God every evening before bed for keeping me sober and ask him to do it again the next day. For those of you that weren’t born with this disease please think about what I have said. If you come across someone in your life that tells you they are in recovery, or that they are an alcoholic or addict try to be kind to them. It’s ok to be taken aback. It’s ok to ask us questions, and it’s even okay to judge us. But try to remember that even when we have multiple years of sobriety we still deal with our past, we are living with a disease that we will never be cured of. It never goes away and many times when we are doing the right thing, we get sucker punched and have to explain ourselves to people that we haven’t hurt or have never seen us drunk. We might be going about our lives in a productive manner when suddenly out of know where we are in a position where we are perceived as the “bad person, the fuck up, or at the very least the undesirable and it hurts. Please be kind to us. #Alcoholism #Society #God

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