Posted in Dating, friendship, happiness, inner peace, Life, Musings, People, relationships

Spectacularly Exhausted

Spectacularly Exhausted

It is 5:50 a.m. on Sunday, and I think I had about 45 minutes this morning where I felt like ‘oh, I finally got enough sleep! Today is going to be great!’ Before the (now familiar) veil of exhaustion tumbled back down over my head.

Honestly, I don’t know what is wrong with me, but I’m beginning to wonder if maybe there is a Deer Tick stuck to my scalp, or in some nook or cranny that I can’t see, sucking out my blood while simultaneously infecting me with Lyme’s Disease? Seems far fetched, but…Jesus Christ, I’m beat.

As I sit here, contemplating my lethargy, it occurs to me that my legs and hips are sending little pain-signals up to my brain, my knee muscles hurt, and even my feet are a little bit sore. The feet are truly the least of it. My lower back has also been a bit…I don’t know, it feels crooked or something…since I woke up. I can attribute that, at least, to a night of sleep that more closely resembled death (I imagine) as I do not think I so much as disturbed the covers last night. Although I did wake up on my back, and I know I never, ever fall asleep that way, so…I must have moved at least once.

The rest of it, though? Well, I can place the blame evenly in three places. One would be the trampoline. Despite the fact that I absolutely qualify as a middle-aged woman at this point, I cannot seem to resist the call of that damn thing. My daughter always wants me to come watch her jump (kids need an audience for EVERYTHING, don’t they?) and despite my protests that “this time, I am only watching!” I can never make it more than five minutes without joining in. It’s just so much fun! So much fun, in fact, that I can’t even recognize it as exercise. Oh, but it is! If you don’t believe me, ask my knee muscles- not my actual knees, but the little muscles around and behind them- that is where the pain is. Perhaps it is low impact, but that’s not the same as no impact, and again, I’m kinda getting old, you know? Still, I highly doubt I’ll be stopping anytime soon.

The second would be the guy…let’s call him Mr. E (get it? Myster-y? Hahaha! I kill me.) for now, shall we? He’s killing me. Like, maybe for real. Yesterday, he took me out to the middle of fucking nowhere in like 90 degree heat for a “walk” through a veritable desert…with NO WATER. “Do you always hike without water?” I asked. “Quit focusing on the lack of water.” He replied, “And yes, I do. It makes it more interesting. You appreciate it more when you get it later.” Okay, first of all? That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. Second of all, he probably just forgot the water. He forgot it last time we hiked, too, but I remembered. We ran through two giant bottles of water on that hike, and it was through a shaded forest, so…yeah.

Anyway, I’m mostly joking around. I mean, it’s true, we didn’t have water, and it was really hot, but it was a great walk. I hadn’t been there before, and getting out in the sun really helped the ever present, bone deep tiredness lift for a while. Right up to the moment that I realized I had A.) forgotten to wear sunscreen, and B.) was on antibiotics that specifically instructed me to stay out of the sun. Oops. I remembered about a mile and half in, when I noticed I was…rather pink. “Do I look like I’m burning to you?” I asked. “We better turn around.” was his (alarming) response, once he took a good look at me. I spent the rest of the walk back run-walking from shade tree to shade tree, and there just weren’t that many to be found. “I’m not like other girls.” I reminded him, “I’m like one step above albino.” “Poor little cracker.” He said. (I googled to see if that term was offensive-not for me, I am obviously not offended. But for any of you. I have determined that it really should not be.)

The third bit of blame lands squarely on ME. I have been burning the candle at both ends. I have been going to bed much later, but getting up as early as ever. I have been trying my hardest to plan activities with friends, plan activities with Camryn, to play as much as possible, and have also added an entirely new human to my life. This is most definitely a good thing, but it is also a new thing, and new things in my life are always a bit…challenging for me.

I have been 100% single since sometime in 2014, I believe. Prior to that, I was at least semi-single (still waffling back and forth with the ex) for about a year. So it’s been a long time without…all the stuff that relationships require of us. Just the number of times per week I have to shave my legs now has skyrocketed. The makeup I am applying. The sheer amount of time spent thinking about a person in this way is…kind of hilarious. And freaky, to be honest. And awesome. Really pretty awesome. I spend more time on the phone talking than a teenager…maybe a teenager in 1993. I don’t think current day teenagers actually realize they can use their phones to speak to people in real time.

BUT, and I cannot stress this enough, I am sooooo okay with it. If I have to be tired, so be it. I’m always one jump or hike or conversation away from rallying again. And really? I had given up hope that I’d EVER be here again- I just didn’t think it was possible. I thought I’d have to, eventually, when I really got so lonely I couldn’t stand it anymore, settle for the company of someone who was…so-so. Instead, out of nowhere, I find myself hanging out with this guy who is just…the best. Every once in a while, I can’t help but pause and wonder how in the world this even fell in my lap. And I mean, that’s a pretty good thing to wonder, right? How you got so lucky? Because I feel like I SCORED.

So yeah, I’m tired. I’m wiped completely out. But I’m also deliriously happy most of the time. And I think that’s a pretty decent trade off. Don’t you agree?

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Posted in Blogging, family, friendship, Goals, Holidays, Life, manifestation, Musings, People, relationships, women

Ready for What’s Next: Part 1

connection

I don’t want to jinx myself, but it looks as if I will be ending 2018 on a high note- I’ve had a fabulous past few days, filled with fun interactions with old friends that I haven’t seen in years. Lots and lots of laughter- the kind you can only really have face to face, with people who truly get you. And there is nothing better to me than people who not only laugh at my funny stories, but can make me laugh just as hard with theirs. Humor is just the top thing for me. I also went on a date that 100% did not suck- just easy conversation, not awkward, really nice…we all know how awful a first date can be, don’t we? Enough to keep me from going on very many, that’s for sure. So whether we go out again or not, it’s just really good to know there is hope- well mannered, funny, gainfully employed, grown up men do exist. I’m just happy for the experience.

But what really stands out to me about all of those things is the common thread of connection, and how it affected me. As you may know, I work from home about 95% of the time- I only work in the office for about 16 hours per month. The rest of the time, I’m here, at this computer, alone. There are many days when the only other adults I see are the mailman, if he has a package for me, and my friend Harmony who picks Camryn up from school for me. This generally seemed okay to me- I didn’t realize the impact all my isolation was having on my mood, my motivation, and my life. Until now, that is. After spending some real-life time with people recently, it was hard to miss the elevation in my mood, and the subsequent rise in my motivation to do things even later, when I was alone. I’m still basically an introvert- I will always relish time alone to recharge and decompress. But too much time alone is just as bad for my spirit as too much of anything else, and I intend to be mindful of that.

In 2019, my mission in life will be to continue in this fashion, spending time with people who make me laugh, and who laugh with me. People who I can talk about anything with, and never feel weird or bad. I want my friends to know that I care very much about them, and I am going to make a real effort to be there for them when they are struggling or in pain, and to reach out when they need someone. In 2018, I thought I was ready to come out of my cocoon, but looking back, I can see that I still had some resting to do. I do not feel any kind of way about this- it’s over, basically, and I must have needed that time or it would have been different. But I feel in my heart that this coming year will be different as can be, and I look forward to a lot of joy and good memories to be made.

There are certainly other goals I have in mind, but I think I will leave it at this one for now- connecting with friends and family, and looking forward to how it will color my life. That is 2019 Goal Number One. Stay tuned for the next few goals for the New Year!

Posted in friendship, Life, love, Musings, People, random

One Year, Three Months, Five Days

One year, three months, five days. That’s how long it’s been since you left this earthly plane, on to whatever comes next. Which means that one year, three months and six days ago, you were still doing whatever it was you were doing- talking, smiling, popping up here and there as you were wont to do. No idea that the minutes of your life were winding down, down, down. Oblivious. I think about this sometimes, and it scares me a little bit. It’s a hard truth to swallow, the way we live our lives so blissfully unaware that this might be it- this might be our last day, our last hour.

Anyway, God, I fucking miss you this morning. Grief is a strange thing, isn’t it? Weeks pass, and the pain recedes, and then I wake up one morning, like I did today, and it just hurts, oh so very much. It still seems impossible to me that you are gone.

There is no way for me to describe or quantify or make sense of what you meant to me, how my life was altered because of you, or how it changed when you died. But I know that my life WAS altered, and your death stole something real from me. Because of you, I learned that love can evolve in all sorts of different ways- when you stop trying to fit a relationship into a box, stop trying to label and categorize it, and just let it be what it is, something wonderful can happen. The connection between us spanned decades, and changed many times, ultimately mellowing and becoming something rich, that I cherished. Knowing you were out there, somewhere, knowing that you would be there if I needed you…it mattered so much to me.

Your surprise visits were often the highlight of my week. Just drinking coffee with you out on my front porch, or playing board games with Cam. Getting to hear you laugh and seeing you be silly and playful with my kids lifted my heart. I just enjoyed your company. It had become as simple and easy as that.

I was not blind to your faults. I knew you well enough to worry about what the future held for you, to worry about where your life would ultimately end up. We even discussed it a time or two, with me lamenting what would happen to you when you got old, joking about which girl would end up taking care of you. “Oh my God,” I groaned, “It’s going to be me, isn’t it?” And we laughed, because it seemed far away and preposterous. I suppose it wound up being a useless worry, didn’t it? But for the record, I would have gladly taken on the job. Not that you ever would have wanted to be in that position, of course, but I would have done it. In a heartbeat.

The point is, I guess, that I loved you. I love you still. I used to feel angry sometimes, resentful that I so completely loved someone who could never love me back in the same way. It wasn’t as if I had a choice- we love who we love, and that’s all. But now I’m grateful for all of it, I really am. Because of you, I know I am capable of loving someone unconditionally, exactly as they are, with no expectation and no need for them to do anything to earn it. I realized that long before you died. I know I made it clear to you. I’m so glad I did, and so glad we were friends.

I just really, really miss you today.

Posted in family, friendship, inner peace, Life, Mental Health, Musings, People, relationships

Yesterday

connection

 

God, yesterday was gorgeous. Not just the weather- although that was gorgeous, too, but…it was the content of the day that left me, at the end of it, feeling loved and valuable and as if I truly have places and people to whom I belong, where I am wanted.

I didn’t know that I was feeling like that wasn’t true. I didn’t know what that emptiness was or why it was there until it started to fill up again, and then I got it. I’ve been lonely, and I didn’t even know that’s what it was. I thought loneliness felt a different way, I guess.

I know that I spend too much time alone. I thought that I preferred to be alone, and it’s true- I do value my down time. But, as with all things in my life, I tend to overdo anything that feels good…and too much of anything that feels good will eventually morph into something that doesn’t feel so good anymore. Balance- I have never been very talented at that. I could use a little bit more moderation in most things.

I attended a celebration of life for my friend Che who passed away a few months ago. He was only 46- just a few years older than me- and he had a heart attack while surfing. I was nervous, as I usually am before any type of gathering, but I pulled myself together and I got in the car and went. As I drove over the hill to Carmel, the sun was shining, and the world was so breathtaking, and the tears started coming…yesterday would have been Che’s 47th birthday. He was too young. What else is there to say? That is just too young.

I got to meet his mama, and give her a big hug. He was her only child, and I don’t know how…I don’t have any idea how one survives something like this. I didn’t know anyone there at first, but then a few old friends of mine showed up, and God, it was so good to see these people. One in particular that I hadn’t seen in…gosh, probably almost 20 years! We were over the moon to see each other after so much time. There was more laughter than tears, lots of love and warmth in that place. I’m so glad I went.

I had to leave a little early to head over to a baby shower- my daughter’s best friend since 5th grade is due in November, and I couldn’t miss out on celebrating with her. We had so much fun! I adore Kristina, although her mother and I despaired over our two wild girls many, many times throughout their teenage years. We laughed about how often we plotted to keep them apart, all of it always amounting to nothing. Kristina has been a steadfast and faithful friend to my daughter, and it’s so wonderful to get to watch her life progress. Oh my goodness, we laughed so much yesterday.

After that, I got a surprise phone call from a friend who NEVER calls me, and we talked for almost an hour. She is trying to cope with the terminal illness of another friend of ours who has very little time left…he has made her the medical decision maker, and she is doing the best she can. I offered to help any way that I could, and we talked…oh, she is one of the good ones, we get to talk about the deep stuff, and I love it so much.

Finally, just to cap off my day, I loaded up the car with Cam and Lucy the lab, and we headed to the beach. We made it just in time for a beautiful sunset, and I…what can I tell you? My heart was so full.

In one short day, I celebrated the too-short life of a friend I’ve known for over half of my life. I celebrated the coming birth of a brand new life. I reconnected with friends I haven’t seen in years, had some deep conversations, reminisced about a past that might not have been as awful as I’ve let myself believe. I witnessed the full spectrum of life, didn’t I? And at the end of it all was a stunning sunset with more people (and pets) that I love.

I dumped the sand out of my shoes last night, and fell into bed exhausted, but, for the first time in so long…I was content.

I want more days like that. Of course I do. Maybe without having to lose anyone else, though. That would be even better.

Posted in Addiction, family, friendship, Goals, inner peace, Life, living, mindfulness, Musings, People, social media

I Forget…

disconnect
courtesy of google AND Tanmay Vora, as listed above. Thanks!

I forget that living a full, happy life involves leaving my house. I get lazy from sitting still and want to keep sitting still. I spend way too much time in this house, by myself, and I think it is bad for me. I need to push myself a little harder to get outside, and to interact with real people.

One of my best friends showed up at my door yesterday (because she knows that’s pretty much the only way to get a hold of me- I can ignore phone calls, texts, refuse to make plans, but you can almost guarantee to find me at my house) and at first I was annoyed. I didn’t want to see anyone! But after a few minutes, we got to talking, and by the time she left after my lunch was over, I felt happier than I had in a while. I need to be with my friends. So why is it so easy for me to forget that?

I don’t know…I will tell you this, though. I spend way, way too much time on Facebook. This has come up again and again, and lately I have been fantasizing about how good it would be to break free of that site. I don’t want to know so much. I want to know the bare minimum about people again. I don’t want to know how different we are, and how bad your spelling is. Please, God, take me back in time. I think being on social media so much makes me think I don’t like people, when the truth is, I LOVE people, I just love real people. People who, in real life, aren’t so eager to vomit up every little dark corner of their heart. Trust me, I do it too. I’m just as guilty. So I am signing off of Facebook, again, for an indeterminate amount of time, and I am going to try to get out in the real world.

I want more laughter with my friends. I want to go to the apple orchard and pick apples with my kids. I want to fall into bed at night, exhausted but happy. I want to sit outside around my fire pit and talk to people I love about things that mean something to us personally.  In other words, I want to change the way I have been living. It is time. It is way past time.

Now I just have to figure out how to invite people over without using Facebook…shit. I might have to use my phone to make a phone call. That will be interesting. 🙂

Posted in Addiction, alcoholism, anxiety, family, Life, recovery, twelve step

Things I Forgot to Remember

Death has been an unrelenting presence in my life over the past year, which is very, very unusual for me. Beginning with the loss of my beloved friend Joe in August of last year, then his dear friend Che, just a few weeks ago- Che, who spent countless hours on the phone with me after Joe’s death, listening to all of the stories I have to tell about Joe, that I suddenly needed to re-tell to someone who knew him… and sharing his own with me. Then, in the late hours of July 5th, or perhaps the very early hours of July 6th- we don’t know for sure yet, but oddly enough, every member of our family found themselves awake at 3:30 in the morning on July 6th- my darling uncle, Louis Earl Fulton, passed away. His life was not an easy one. One day, I will tell his story properly, but I want to do it right, and I want to have all of the facts straight first, though I will tell you this- due to an accident with a drunk driver when he was just starting out into adulthood, his lot in life was hard. He suffered, for the bulk of his years on earth, with a busted up body and what I would guess as being trouble from a traumatic head injury. Over the past several years, his health seriously deteriorated, and he had many falls, broken bones, and other injuries. He suffered from seizures, and I think he even had a stroke recently, but honestly, there was so much going on that I would have to ask my mom to be sure. The fact is, he wasn’t doing well. So you would think that his death would be less of a surprise, and maybe in some ways it wasn’t shocking, but…when someone just dies at home, and they haven’t been in the hospital or particularly sicker than usual, it really is a shock.

This blog is not going to be about him, because like I said, I would rather honor him by writing his story correctly, and I can’t do that without getting some help from my mom-she was alive when his accident happened, and I was not yet. I will tell you this- his given name was Louis Earl, but I haven’t heard anyone call him that since my grandmother was alive. His nickname (one of them) was Fizzle, because he was born on the 5th of July (get it? He fizzled out! My grandfather had a strange sense of humor) and, coincidentally, he died, near as we can tell, on the exact same day, many years later. There will never be anyone like him- there will never be anyone like any of the people I have lost this past year- and nothing I know brings a person into sharper focus than their death. And nothing slaps you out of your own miserable funk like the loss of a life that belonged to someone precious to you.

For the past month, or maybe even longer than that, I have been struggling like crazy with myself…upset about things like: hating my job because it is boring, hating myself (low-key) because I am not perfect, wishing I had better friendships, wondering why I am still single, wishing I could connect in a more meaningful way with my youngest daughter, and…this is the one I didn’t even want to write about or admit out loud to anyone who could talk some sense into me…wanting to quit being in recovery. I wanted to quit. I wanted to start drinking again, and I was really, really close to throwing the towel in. Closer than anyone but me knows. I felt like I was missing out on something. That my life wasn’t fun enough because I couldn’t go out and have a drink. That maybe it would be easier for me to deal with men if I could just relax a little bit, like everyone else does.

My uncle died on the day that my daughter was going out of town with her father for the first time in over a year- so I was already incredibly anxious without the addition of a death in the family. I took the rest of Friday off, and I cried and cried and cried. I cried so much that by the time I went to bed, my head was pounding. I woke up on Saturday morning with eyes that looked like they had been bitten by mosquitoes, or injected with saline. But I had made plans with a girlfriend earlier in the week to go hiking and hit a morning meeting, and she is notoriously hard to pin down, so there was no way I was cancelling. I pulled myself together, worried that I would be too somber to be any fun, but I went anyway. I needn’t have worried. We had a nice hike, and plenty to discuss, and it was just what I needed. We almost didn’t go into the meeting afterwards, but we did, and again, it was perfect. I came home afterwards, ate a massive amount of food, and fell asleep the way you can only when you are grieving and exhausted- face down on the mattress for four solid hours. When I woke up (which took a good hour of just sitting, staring into space) I knew instinctively that being still would be a bad idea, so I grabbed my dog and went for a long walk on the beach. That night, I went to another meeting.

Over the course of my 48 hour weekend, I managed to hit four meetings, hang out with two good friends (one of them twice), go to the beach two different times, and take two solid naps. I did something I had never done before in the course of my recovery- I doubled down on what was good for me, and sidestepped an almost inevitable relapse. I was reminded that both life and recovery require my active participation in order to work the way that I need them to. I can’t just sit here and cry about what isn’t working- or, I can, but it isn’t going to do me any good at all.

I’m sorry if this is sort of all over the place- I don’t feel like I am explaining myself well at all, but there is so much to what I am feeling, and it’s all jumbled up. The bottom line is, my uncle’s death helped me to remember what I had forgotten- that life is so precious, that while I am here, I need to rejoice in the gifts that I have been given, and they are many- my health, my beautiful children, my job which provides so well for me, and my recovery which is the only reason I have all of the other things. I will not dishonor myself or my wonderful life by giving up on that. I have all of the ingredients, but it is up to me to make something worthwhile out of them. Today, I will choose to do just that.

Posted in adventure, family, friendship, Learning, Life, love, Musings, People, relationships

Best Friends are Forever

I am, despite my hermit tendencies (these have not always existed, by the way- I used to go out almost every single night when I was younger) the kind of girl who is friendly with just about everyone. I live in a smallish town, and lived here throughout high school and the bulk of my 20’s, and, after moving away for a while, I’ve lived here for most of the years after that as well. So I know a lot of people. I can’t really leave my house without running into someone I know, at least marginally. There are no end to the familiar faces around here.

But I have always had a best friend, and that was the friend I could be my realest self with, tell all my dirty secrets to, and be as God-awful as I needed to be, knowing they would still love me. I have been so lucky to have these women (well, they are all women now) in my life, and I can’t imagine what that life would have been like without them. It certainly would have been lonelier, and a lot less fun.

I met Grace when I was 15, on a camping trip that I’m pretty sure I had lied through my teeth to get to go on. I had met this guy, and I really wanted to hang out with him, so I thought that spending the night with him in the woods was a pretty safe bet. Anyway, luckily, there were a lot of other people there, so when he got super drunk off tequila and had a fit because I wouldn’t sleep with him and started chasing me around in the middle of the night, I was able to hide in a car with Grace (She was there with her big sister) and her friend Danielle. I remember they were eating salami and cheese, and I just hunkered down there with them for a while. I don’t remember what else happened that night, but I know that I survived it, obviously.

A few weeks later, I ran away from home (again) and wound up at the home of an older friend named Robert who sort of took in strays- stray people, I mean, not animals. It just so happened that Grace was staying there too, with her sister Mindi, who lived there but didn’t ever stay there, and she offered to let me bunk with her. From that moment on, we became inseparable. We smoked cigarettes together, and starved to death together, praying that Mindi would stop by eventually and bring us Taco Bell. We annoyed everyone around us (we were always the youngest) and we bickered like sisters. Grace once broke up with a guy because he didn’t like me. I named my oldest daughter after her. When she fell in love, finally, with a man that she would go on to have a very long term relationship with, it was traumatic for me…obviously, this did not end our friendship, but it was the first time she had chosen someone else over me, and it was hard. On both of us. Of course, we went on to have many, many other adventures, but things changed, as they do, and so…

I met Vera. Vera was a close friend to a guy I was supposed to be roommates with but ended up hooking up with, and yeah, that wasn’t a total mess. I think I was 25 at the time? Anyway, Vera was (and is) just captivating and beautiful, like, seriously, and the coolest thing about her is that she is incredibly modest about the whole thing. Like, if she knew how gorgeous she was and acted as such, she would be unbearable, but she is totally like “eh, whatever, shut up”.  You have never met a more approachable, accepting human being. She is cool with EVERYONE.

Anyway, one day I got in a terrible fight with the guy I was living with, and I didn’t know where to go, so I went to her house- remember, I didn’t know her all that well, but she knew him, so maybe I was looking for some insight, who knows. She made me feel better, and we just bonded, and once again, after that we were inseparable.

What you should know about me and these friendships is that in both instances, when I say “inseparable”, I mean REALLY. We saw each other every single day, pretty much. Grace and I slept together in a twin sized fold out bed for the better part of a year. Vera was in a serious relationship when I met her, and she got in trouble all the time because we were constantly running around together well into the wee hours of the morning. On the days we didn’t physically see each other, we talked on the phone and made plans for the next day. I’m sure there were times that we got busy with our lives and did other things, but I honestly don’t remember that as much as I remember our constant togetherness.

Eventually, I moved away for a few years, and in that time Vera and Grace became best friends with each other. So when I moved back, instead of it being weird, we all became a little clump of best friendship. And then Vera met someone new, and moved away. Then Grace met someone new, and became very busy with that. And I was sort of left here, with this hole in my life, sometimes missing them so very much, but it wasn’t like we weren’t friends anymore, it was just…life happened.

About three years ago, I met a girl named Cinamon (yes, I spelled it correctly, and yes, this is her real name) at one of my meetings. Let me be clear- this was the first time I had met her, but I had been hearing about her for YEARS. She and her twin sister had run in the same circles as I did, but we just somehow had never crossed paths. When I walked into my meeting that night, I knew exactly who she was and I was like “finally!” because I knew I would meet her one day. She said she took one look at me and knew we were going to be friends.

She had a tiny newborn baby when I met her. By the time Delilah was 4 months old, Cinamon was my roommate, and she lived with me for about a year. Somehow, we not only managed to stay friends through that (I am AWFUL to live with) but we grew even closer after she moved out. She is the person I want to call every time there is anything going on in my life that I want to dish about. She knows exactly who I am, and she still thinks I am awesome. I think she is the most patient, kind, loving human being I have ever met…and she’s still super fun and weird and silly.

The other day, she called me and said she was on her way over, she needed to go through my closet and find a shirt, and it hit me- she filled the spot! How lucky am I? To get to have not just one, but three best girl friends in my life? I may not see Vera and Grace as much as I once did, but you can bet your ass, when we do get together it’s like not a minute has passed. And now I have Cinamon, and I am so grateful for her.  One TRUE friend is worth fifty kind-of friends, in my book, and I get to have three that I would do almost anything for.

I’m really counting my blessings for them this morning. I love you guys. 🙂