Category Archives: humor

Thoughts on my former ass, and other things that no longer exist.

my former ass

Once upon a time, I was young. I was so young that I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to be thirty, or have stretch marks, or empathy for other human beings. I was so young, I never had weird hairs growing out of my neck or my nipples, but if I had, my sharp young eagle eyes would have caught them before they were long enough to grab with my finger nails.

I miss being that young, sometimes, and not just because of the weird hairs or the funky pair of lines between my eyebrows that make me look angry even when I am not…I miss it because I miss the ignorant, self centered, shallow bliss of being the girl I was.

That girl didn’t even care how stupid she probably looked, always half crocked on something, running around, making a spectacle of herself. She didn’t even know she was an idiot. She thought she was cute all the time. That girl didn’t care about the taxes coming out of her paycheck,  or how stupid all the candidates running for president were. She didn’t get into long, useless, political arguments with her friends on Facebook. There was no Facebook. And it was good.

Even if I didn’t have a parenthood and job induced curfew, I would probably still go to bed before nine. Nothing exciting happens after nine- if my phone rings that late at night, I wonder a) who is drunk, and b) who died. That is what goes through my head when my phone rings after I am in bed. The twenty five year old me didn’t bother going out until after nine- NO ONE was out that early.

The young me didn’t worry about how I looked naked. I wanted people to see me naked. I looked that good. Now? I don’t even like to sneak up on myself naked. I wish I was kidding.

Eh, but who am I kidding? That girl was cute and all, but she was a bona fide mess. And most of the people I let see me naked didn’t even deserve to. Although, I’m glad there are references I can provide who can verify how awesome my ass used to be. Because I was trying to tell my trainer about it last night, and I could tell he didn’t believe me. If any of you have a picture of my former ass, can you send it to me? I need to show him.

Anyway, that is what I am thinking about right now. Aren’t you glad I shared it with you?

 

What I’ve Learned, Lately

lessons

I don’t care how old you are, life is nothing if not a constant set of lessons. I am going to share with you some of the things I have learned, lately:

1.) I am better off if I don’t react to my first impulse, no matter what the situation. Unless, you know, something is on fire or something.

I am a very emotional person. I almost always have feelings about things before I have many thoughts about them. What I have learned is, the best possible outcome is usually achieved when I allow myself some time to think things through before discussing anything. When I am very heated about a situation, attacking it on the spot is generally just that- an attack- and it tends not to end well. This isn’t exactly rocket science, but it’s truly a new thing for me…I am the queen of the knee jerk reaction, always blowing up before I have any business opening my mouth.

2.) When you overreact to something, it winds up being about your behavior, rather than the thing you are objecting to.

Say your boyfriend cheats on you. That is a really terrible, painful thing. So, when he comes home at two a.m., and you rush outside as he is getting out of his car, and he jumps back in his car and locks himself in, just in time to avoid getting a concussion with the bat you are swinging at his head, and you proceed to beat his car until it can’t rightfully be called a car anymore…when the police come, and all of your neighbors are outside watching you get handcuffed, guess who this about now?

Okay, this was a terrible (but super fun) analogy, but you get what I’m saying- when you go over the top in your response, and behave badly, it almost inevitably turns into a situation where you are left feeling bad about how you handled yourself, and whatever it was you were objecting to gets lost in the mess.  Try to keep some dignity, whatever the cost. If that isn’t possible, seethe in silence until you calm down a little- and you will calm down. Which leads me to:

3.) Feelings Change.

This is closely linked to number one, but not the same. In the first instance, I recommend waiting to react, at least outwardly, and thinking. But here, what I have learned is that, not only should I wait, and think, but I have discovered that when I do this, a lot of times what I thought I felt wasn’t true at all. Give yourself a minute. You will be surprised at how different your feelings are after a good nights sleep or a weekend off. Shit changes, and fast.

4.) Having said all of that, I have also found that dealing with things directly, no matter how awkward it might be, is exactly the right thing to do.

A few months back, I decided to get a roommate, who is also a friend of mine. I was smart enough to know that I have a hard time living with people, and so I told her that we should aim for six months, and if that went well, then, no longer than a year. Within two months, I started to feel overwhelmed and less excited about the whole thing- but it was a really hard subject to broach. I didn’t want her to think I didn’t like her, or that she had done anything wrong, because that wasn’t it. I simply don’t like having roommates. But I didn’t say anything, because I thought maybe I was just adjusting and I would get over it. So, I went to Hawaii, and while I was there, I thought a lot about it. I still wasn’t really sure, though, until I was turning the corner to my house on my way back home, and suddenly, I was just bummed out that I had to face people in my home when I returned. I KNEW in that moment that I had to talk to her.

I waited until the moment seemed right, and I sat down, and we talked about it. I was nervous as heck. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I knew that, in this situation, I needed to be true to myself. I told her we should plan on sticking to six months, and I told her that the reason I was letting her know so soon was because I didn’t want her to miss out if she found something else in the meantime. I also let her know that I hoped she stayed the whole six months, but I would not be mad if she didn’t. And that if she had a tough time finding something by the end of the six months, it was okay to take a little longer.

I’m sure she wasn’t thrilled. But you know what? I knew that I had done the right thing, in the right way, and I had been direct, and kind, and as thoughtful as I could be…and because of that, I never had to feel bad about any of it. And I had said what I needed to say, which meant there was that much less weight on my shoulders.

5.) Pick your battles.

Okay, so this isn’t an original thought. Not by a long shot. But, for someone like me, who is always ready to cop a resentment about nearly any fucking thing, this is a huge breakthrough for me. You mean I don’t need to correct every little thing I view as wrong? You mean I won’t die of keeping my mouth shut? You mean I can have feelings about things that have nothing to do with me and I don’t have to share them? WOW.

So, I have learned, lately, that not only will I not die of letting things go, but I can achieve quite a bit of happiness and peace this way. Simply by not saying every single thing that I think. Simply by letting people be their irritating selves, they become less irritating. Who could have known this? I mean, besides most people?

So, this is my list of interesting life lessons for now. I hope you enjoyed them. And if you didn’t, I hope you are smart enough to Pick Your Battles.

Have an awesome day!

 

Over November

november rain

 

I am here, finally, to report that I made it through fucking November. You probably don’t even know why this is such a big deal, and quite frankly, neither do I- all I know is, for whatever reason, November is a HARD month for me. I seem to backslide a lot in November, and if you follow my blog at all, you know what I mean. If you don’t…sigh…I’ll just say it for you, but you really should go back and read some of my other stuff. It’s pretty entertaining. Anyway, I have a tendency to suffer terribly with addiction in the month of November. Actively, if you catch my drift.

Anyway, that didn’t happen this particular month. I think, this time, I was prepared for the weird onslaught of less desirable feelings I am beset by when the days get short, and it gets cold, and everything seems so hard to deal with. I basically gave myself permission to slack off in every other area, as long as I could just get through the month okay. That was my mantra- “Just Get Through This Month”. So, knowing what to expect, and cutting myself some slack, it seemed to do the trick.

It didn’t really hurt that I spent a week of that dreaded month in beautiful Maui, where November, apparently, does not hang out. They just double up on June over there. So I had an extra week of summer, which may have sustained me. I have been trying to figure out how to get back there ever since I have been home. I am not even kidding.

But now, sitting here, safely ensconced in December, I realize that, hard as November may be for me, it has also been a learning month for me. I have finally learned that this month is hard for me, and if I don’t want to be in big trouble, I need to formulate a plan to avoid it. Not the month, the big trouble. I have learned that I need to talk about it to the people I talk to these things about, and recognize the thought processes within me that lead me to dangerous ground.

November is a teacher, and this time I aced my exams. But still, I am glad it is over.

I know it has been a long time since my last post, and I feel really bad about it- especially since writing is, like, the best thing I know how to do. But sometimes, it’s just necessary to do what you have to do for yourself. That is what I have been doing. Hopefully, I am back for a while. 🙂

Why You Should Probably Keep Smoking (Just Kidding)

cigarettes

I’m going to tell you the truth- I just don’t have a single thing to say. I have spent WEEKS, now, avoiding this website. This morning, as I woke up at four a.m. (the way I used to every day before I quit smoking) I could no longer avoid it. So I sat down here, and started to write. Only, every word of it was shit, so I deleted it all, and started over.

The problem is, I still am not in the mood to write. I don’t know what the story is- I have plenty of things to write about. My life is full, and interesting, and funny. I am really into my recovery right now, and I’m on this really beautiful spiritual journey, I’m really getting my meditation practice down, I’m working hard on my parenting methods…I quit smoking, I’m getting a roommate for a while to get myself out of debt. But I don’t feel like elaborating on any of this stuff.

Which is not only a damn shame, because I have always loved to write, but it’s also a damn shame because I feel like a lot of the stuff I go through, a lot of the conclusions I come to, they could be helpful to other women…other anybodies, really.

But I don’t want to. And I think it’s because I quit smoking. I’m not even kidding around, I think not smoking cigarettes is killing me in a different way than smoking them was. I think NOT smoking has destroyed my creativity.

It used to be that when I was writing, and I was really caught up in it, really into whatever I was saying, I would have to take a lot of little breaks to go take a puff or two. Now that it has been over a month since I quit, that whole scenario I just described seems weird and nonsensical, but it’s the truth, it’s what I did.

And now that I have quit, I don’t even want to get out of bed in the morning. Like, I used to leap out of bed every morning at four, and I thought it was because I really was just a morning person, but now ? I think I just really wanted a cigarette all the time. Now, My alarm goes off in half hour increments until fifteen minutes before I need to leave for work- and only because that is when I finally crawl out of bed. Without my beloved Marlboro 100’s, I have no reason to get out of bed in the morning.

Isn’t that pathetic? Eh, I guess I am in mourning. I hope my desire to share my life with others through writing returns…but even if it never, ever does? I gotta tell you- I still don’t think it’s worth smoking over. I want to be around a long time for my kids, so smoking isn’t really an option for this particular person.

Have a great day

Things I do when I am sick (That I would never do if I was well) (…probably)

IMG_4098

I have had to veer off course in the “Five Day, Five Photo Challenge”, mostly because I have been hovering on deaths door, doing my damnedest not to cross the threshold…just kidding, although I do have a nasty, terrible, no good, fucking awful cold. The second one in about a month, actually. Which probably means there is some underlying cause, most likely fatal, terminal, or otherwise incurable, right? Which leads me to the inspiration for this fine list- the crazy shit I think and do when I am sick. Please, enjoy my neuroses, and my trashy behavior. There should certainly be some benefit to the world from these.

Here goes:

1) As mentioned above, I have never just had a cold. It is always, in my head (and confirmed by WebMD) a symptom of a much bigger, probably fatal, underlying disease. I don’t get headaches, I get brain tumors. It’s never a cold, it’s always early pneumonia due to undiagnosed HIV. The cough is really lung cancer. The achy muscles are Rheumatoid Arthritis. I actually even entertained the idea, briefly, yesterday, that there was probably a tick somewhere lodged in my body, and I was completely riddled with Lyme’s disease. Actually, that could be true. I am sure there are lots of places on my body where a tick could live happily for YEARS. I am not nearly that thorough in my self examinations, that I would spend the time necessary to locate a tick. Let me remind you, I have a four year old. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I took a bath alone, let alone one where I could thoroughly search for ticks.

2) Due to my (hopefully imagined) impending demise, I become extremely weepy, loving, and tender with my children. I imagine how fucked their lives will be when I have the nerve to die young(ish), and I imagine myself looking down on them from heaven as they cry and mourn. Even as I write this, I realize how mental I must sound. I’m even a little embarrassed for me.  Anyway, because this is such a horrible mental road to go down, I then become full of resolve to beat this horrible cancer (my cold) and vow to be well, against all odds (or with chicken soup and Robitussin, whichever is easier). Which leads me to-

3) The part where I turn into a sleep Nazi, screaming at my children, the dogs, and my phone every time it rings. Don’t these idiots know I am coming back from the BRINK, here? I must rest! I must imagine my body attacking the cancer (germs. cold germs, that is all they are) so that I can survive! FOR THEM! Don’t they see what is happening here? ( I can actually see my older daughter rolling her eyes at me in disgust as I write this, saying “Why? Oh, yes, because you are DRAMA.”)

4) Other and miscellaneous things: When I am sick, and I need medicine, which I never seem to have when I need it, I will go to the store in my pajamas and slippers without a single fuck to give, and I will zombie walk to the cold/flu aisle like a kid in a candy store. If a kid were a zombie with serious sinus problems, anyway. I spent forty dollars yesterday on shit for my cold. I know that I can’t cure it, but I just wanted to feel better. You and I both know, though, that nothing apart from time really works.  If I didn’t have kids, I’d just continually use Nyquil to knock myself out until the symptoms passed, but that seems dangerous with a four year old in the house.

5) I religiously spray salt water up my nose when I am sick. I know I am not alone in this, but it seems to funny to me every time I do it- we spend every well moment of our lives vigorously avoiding getting things up our noses (well, okay…you know what I mean) and the minute we are sick, we actively begin squirting shit up there. Or, I do, anyway. I have no idea if it actually even works, but at least I feel like I am doing something.

6) I take baths with no thought of hygiene whatsoever. I sat in a bath full of kids vapor crap yesterday, just for the hope of some relief, however brief. I nearly scalded my skin off, but dear Jesus, I could actually breathe for the duration of the bath. Unfortunately, I was too sick to bother actually washing any part of my body. It never even crossed my mind. Being wet was good enough in my book.

7) I will literally blow and or wipe my nose on ANYTHING when I am sick, so the best bet is to keep something intended for that near me at all times. This is why people walk around with Kleenex boxes when they are ill- to save the curtains. I actually wiped my nose on my own pajama bottoms the other day. I am pretty sure I am still wearing them. Guess how much I care?

8) I will gladly let my four year old eat nothing but Popsicle’s for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. Only when I am sick. At least she is eating something, right? Now that I think about it, this may be WHY I am sick again so soon- she is probably diabolically licking all the rims of the clean glasses in the house, planting her pre-school germs (of which there are plenty) in hopes of Popsicle’s 24/7…I better keep an eye on her.

Well, that is it for me. I am going back to bed now. Gotta nip this cancer (cold) in the bud. Have a wonderful day!

Beautiful Human Machines

IMG_4083

I had intended to title this post “Stupid Human Bodies”, to be honest with you. I woke up this morning with only half of one nostril cooperating in my breathing effort. I have the kind of congestion that can be neither blown out, nor, uh…breathed in? I suppose the proper description would be “hocked up”, but that sounds so yucky, doesn’t it? Either way, if you are reading this, then you probably are saddled with one of these disease prone, periodically snot-addled, human contraptions we call “bodies” yourself, so I am sure you understand. The throbbing headache caused by sinuses that are malfunctioning- or is it hyperfunctioning? I am really unsure. The achy skin inflicted with fever. The goopy eyes, runny noses, dry, cracked lips. And this is only when we are dealing with the common fucking cold!

Don’t even get me started on the rest of the insulting things we must suffer through- the flaw in our design that put so many nerve endings in the places where we are most likely to ram them into things (think little pinky toes, my friend), the acne as teenagers (and adults), the metabolism that runs like a dream for so many years, only to leave us high and dry when our terrible eating habits are firmly ingrained in us…leaving us looking, bewildered, at the cellulite on our thighs and the rolls of blubber encircling our middles. Uncomfortably warm, permanent (seems like), hugs from the fat fairy. Yeah, life inside these bone and skin tents can be trying.

I was feeling all kinds of sorry for myself this morning, hobbling around with my achy, common-cold bones, hindered by my fat hug and the insurmountable mucus battle raging in my head…I was feeling whiny and bitchy and all kinds of pathetic. And then my daughter woke up. As you can see from the picture above, whatever is wrong with me is WAY less important than whatever the hell is going on with her. Yesterday, I thought she had a bug bite near her eye causing that swelling. Today, I am leaning more towards some type of cellulitis, perhaps conjunctivitis with a little something extra…I don’t know.

But it’s amazing, isn’t it, how quickly ones perspective can change? First of all, when I got out of “poor me” mode, and jumped into the impenetrable armor I call “Mommy Deluxe” (motto: don’t fuck with my kids, you hear?), my cold symptoms seemed to just float away. But, more importantly, I became acutely grateful for this wonderful machine that house our souls from day one through day…whatever you make it to. Because if this fancy contraption was not SO smart that it could send up distress signals you would need to blind to miss (ie: this eye is swollen even WORSE today, lady, so the Benadryl ain’t working! Help! Help!), how would I have known that something was seriously up with my kid? Answer: I wouldn’t have. I would not have known.

Our bodies are such precise and miraculous little systems. They are so complex, there are things even the most highly trained doctors, the most insanely educated scientists, are still mystified by. They protect us, they wage wars we often know nothing about, they suffer such abuses at our hands, and they still do their job, to the best of their ability, every single second of our lives. How cool is that? They find ways to communicate with us that we can understand, each body learning the language we will hear so that it can tell us how to help. And what do we do? We complain and whine, and get upset when things go wrong…Yet, how often are we grateful for all the many, many things that go right?

Today, I am going to stop whining, and appreciate this marvelous (if a little chubbier and snottier than I feel is totally necessary) temple that has been with me since the moment…no, since BEFORE the moment, even…I was born. Also, I am going to call the doctor for Cammy. That eye does not look good.

Have a beautiful day!

When Your Blog is Broken.

Have you ever had a broken blog? Well, let me tell you, it is pretty frustrating- my blog has been broken lately, and I really don’t know what to do about it. I mean, is anyone ever really prepared for a sick and malfunctioning blog? This is not something you can really be ready for, unless you are a complete computer whiz, which, by anyone’s standards, I am not. I have been with WordPress for this long for that very reason- I am barely computer literate, and WordPress is, or always has been, anyway, super simple and user friendly.

Until, of course, my blog stopped functioning. I mean, if you are reading this (all four of you who can actually see it because you subscribe to my fantastic and enthralling writing, and/or you found it via Facebook or Twitter) then you wouldn’t know what I mean…but my blog is no longer showing up in the ever important “Reader” under any of the Categories I assign to it. Not under “Addiction” or “Recovery” (which, of course, would be stupid categories for this particular blog, since it is not about either of those things, but you catch my drift…), nope…my blog isn’t showing up anywhere.

Let me tell you something about writing a blog- the only reason I do it is because I want to share my thoughts and my particular perspective with the world. This is the avenue I have chosen to do that. So when I write something, and put all that effort into it, and it doesn’t work…that is pretty frustrating. I have visited the forums and tried to figure out how to resolve this issue on my own, but, as I said before, there is a whole lot more technical stuff (at least to me it seems technical- plug ins and re-setting things and blah, blah, blah…shit I know absolutely NOTHING about) than I am capable of comprehending. And you know what sucks even worse than having a broken blog? Having a broken blog and then having to feel stupid when you can’t grasp all the nerd-speak in the fix-it directions. Thanks, WordPress! Now I feel ineffective and stupid, as well as blog-less.

When your blog is broken and no one reads it, your stats really suck. When your stats really suck, and you can’t fix your blog, you don’t feel like writing anymore. When you stop writing, the five people who like your blog stop following you. And when you have no readers…what, really, is the point? There isn’t one.

Of course, this blog will probably pop right up in the reader, like nothing was ever wrong. Way to go, WordPress. Now I look crazy on top of everything else.

Cleaning House. I mean, Literally.

febreeze

I spent a good portion of my day, yesterday, in my pajamas, on the couch, snoozing. Before that, I spent a good chunk of time back in bed, snoozing some more (and watching TV). Before that, a good friend of mine whom I hadn’t seen in years came by, and we drank coffee and chain smoked on the front step, which is also really bad- the chain smoking, not the coffee. (Don’t you dare judge me, quitting smoking is the hardest, most unpleasant thing I have ever tried quitting. And trust me, I have quit a lot of stuff. Baby steps, man.)

At around two o’clock yesterday afternoon, I was so disgusted with my pajama clad body, horizontally sprawled on various cushioned surfaces, blearily staring at the tv, or the insides of my eyelids. I was so filled with self loathing at my sweaty self just left moldering in the nastiness of my filthy, garbage filled home…I just didn’t know what to do. I mean, I knew what I SHOULD do, but what I didn’t know was how to get myself upright, and actually DO it. I had no energy. I felt angry, disgusted, and frustrated with myself.

Well, I figured out the “BIG SECRET”. It’s pretty simple, actually, though harder than it sounds. Are you ready for me to lay it on you?  Okay, here goes: You simply get the fuck up, and do what you need to do. That is it. Like the Nike slogan from years gone by- JUST DO IT. Just get up off your lazy ass, and start handling your business. Isn’t there some law of physics that says “A body at rest tends to stay at rest unless someone forces it to move it’s slovenly self?” Well, here’s the bad news- it has to be you, the operator of this big machine of skin and bone, that does the forcing. I mean, unless you are independently wealthy, in which case, you can just call Molly Maids, or whatever, and have them come do it for you. If that is the case, I don’t know why you are up so early, reading my blog. I would suggest you go back to bed until it’s time for your pedicure and massage, princess.

Seriously. though, it took me four hours- it could have taken me a lot less time, had I cut corners like I normally do. Doing a half ass job takes half as much time, of course, but the end result sure isn’t as satisfying. I let no dishes “soak” this time, I washed them, dried them, and put (most) of them away. I removed all my “neatly stacked” piles of mail that I am still so resistant to opening- ( hey, I am a work in progress. Rome wasn’t built in a day). I actually did a very good job.

It made me grouchy, for a little while- the first hour was hard, and I did it grudgingly, even with the awesome music blaring from my stereo. The second and third hour, I was just in numbed out cleaning mode. The final hour, I was pretty tired, but I could see the results of my hard work, and it kept me pushing through. I will confess to you right now that the bathroom did not get finished, but the truth is, I wasn’t going to do it at all until I saw how filthy the tub I was about to put my kid in was. So I went ahead and washed out the tub and the sink, while I was at it. And also, the top of my dresser in my bedroom did get overlooked. I will try to get to that today.

However, even with those two little things, I woke up this morning and was treated to the sight and feel of walking through a clean, clear, organized home. I go back to work today after a pretty long stretch of time off, and it feels good to have given myself this gift- a clean home to wake up in and start my day, and a clean home to come back to tonight. As much as I didn’t want to start on it yesterday, I was so glad I made myself do it last night, and I am even more grateful this morning.

So, there you have it- the secret to cleaning your home when you are a lazy, lazy woman. Go spread the word, lazy brethren and sistren (is there no female equivalent for brethren?!) . Go share it with the masses. I mean, if you can get up off the couch, that it. Hahaha!

Have a reasonable Monday (it should help that Monday is happening on a Tuesday this week. There is always that. 🙂 )

A Few Things I’ve Learned in Rehab

group

For the sole purpose of writing SOMETHING, because I just cannot seem to get my inspirational juices flowing, lately (God, that sounds so much grosser than I intended for it to), I figured I would write about my stint(s) in drug rehabilitation centers. You normal folks are probably curious, anyway, so why not? Please keep in mind, due to my family circumstances (I am the primary breadwinner for my kids) I have never been to an inpatient facility. I mean, I have been to them, but never lived there. I am talking about OUTPATIENT treatment centers.

Here goes:

1.) The more money the program costs, the better the food is going to be. My biggest regret over going from full days (what they call partial hospitalization) to intensive outpatient (half days) is that I no longer got to eat the fantastic, gourmet, lunches from my current place. Quite frankly, this could be a trick to get you to stay full days longer. One thing every addict has in common is this: We are HUNGRY when we get off drugs. Starving.

2.) Addicts of every age are generally pretty upset with their parents. This seems to be a common thread among us.

3.) No matter how much you like to talk, you get to a point when you have had ENOUGH fucking talking about your fucking FEELINGS. It’s exhausting.

4.) Even if, somehow, you do not know the Serenity Prayer when you get to treatment, by the end of the third day you will have said it so many times that it has forever lost all meaning to you. You might as well be doing the Hokey-Pokey. It means nothing at all.

5.) There will be at least one person in your group who hates everyone. They don’t really hate everyone, they just really want a stiff drink.

6.) There will be several people in your group who have no idea why they can’t still smoke weed. Weed is not  why they are there. They are there because they wanted to stop snorting Oxy’s.

7.) There will be at least one person there who makes you want to jump out the window every time it is their turn to talk. You get to the point where you start exhibiting odd behavior, such as slapping your hands over your own eye repeatedly, or rude behavior, such as tapping your foot impatiently on the floor, while glaring at them. They will not give a fuck. They will continue to talk and talk and talk, usually about the same fucking thing they talked about yesterday. And the day before that, and the day before that.

8.) There is a reason most outpatient programs are only thirty days. That is the length of time one can tolerate this kind of stuff before becoming increasingly hostile.

9.) Most addicts get really weirded out over discussions about God. This is why we refer to a “Higher Power” instead. It goes down more easily.

10.) There will be one person in your group that doesn’t get that, because he is a total Jesus freak, and he will offend everyone else by quoting the bible and talking about how Jesus Christ is the one truth, etc. Everyone else will offend him by arguing, well into lunch, over this. Your entire next process group will be awkward because the counselors will force you to discuss the “incident.”

11.) “Anxiety” is an addicts favorite word, followed closely by “fuck”.

12.) There is no way to tell, when looking around the room, who will actually make it. The ones you think are definitely going back out are sometimes doing great in five years. The ones who seem to have it all together often don’t last a week.

13.) Heroin addicts think tweakers are the devil. Tweakers think heroin addicts are the worst. We don’t trust one another at all. The funny part is, the end result, all the way down to how horrible one looks, are exactly the same.

14.) Treatment centers are terrible about getting paperwork done.

15.) No matter what I have said in the words above, getting help when you need it, checking yourself into a treatment center, is the best thing you can possibly do. No matter how rough it is, or how annoying, you find out that being in a room full of others trying to get right, you are with your people. You have found your tribe. These people know what you are talking about when you say “I hate who I have become.” or “I feel so ashamed of myself.” in a way that no one else could ever possibly understand.

I am phasing out of my treatment now, and I am ready. Ready to go back out into the land of the living, and actually get some living done. Not that I haven’t been doing that already. Oh, for the love of God, I am just not very entertaining right now, outside of my lists, am I? Oh well. It will come back.

Until then, have a wonderful day. 🙂

No Rest for the Dumb-Ass

LiquidLibrary
LiquidLibrary

Day three of this miserable cold-flu-sinus-whatever bug. I don’t feel good, but I feel a million times better than I did yesterday. Yesterday was horrible. Yesterday was deep in the trenches of yuck. Battling a fever all day long, that weird, patchy sleep thing that happens when you are sick, getting up for water, going back to bed, getting up to pee, going back to bed. Finding yourself watching a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle marathon because you really can’t be bothered to find the remote.

Anyway, today, I am up and about. I can’t really swallow without wincing in pain, and the thermometer is telling me I probably shouldn’t be out among the general public, but I feel so much better. And this is where the problem is. I know I should rest. I know that if I don’t rest, I am going to, quite probably, feel like a giant mountain of shit later on…But…laundry. I could be doing laundry! And, you know, since I am staying home and shirking all my other responsibilities, shouldn’t I just clean the bathroom? Or maybe, you know, it  would do me some good to get some sun…and there are a lot of weeds to be pulled out front. I could kill two birds with one stone, get some vitamin D AND pull those weeds.

It’s really funny, because, if it were a day when I was just off, and I felt great, I wouldn’t want to do any of those things because I really should be doing them. But just knowing that I really shouldn’t be doing anything makes me want to do EVERYTHING. Perhaps if I could get the flu once a month, my house might be a little cleaner? Ugh, never mind- it would not be worth it. I don’t like feeling like this. Although I am amused by my sudden desire to be all Suzy homemaker. Because that is just not me. Not even.

Well, I’m off to take a long, hot, bath. And perhaps just clean up a tiny bit while I’m in there. We’ll see.

Hope you are feeling better than I am today.