Tag Archives: friendship

The Blogger Appreciation Award


I was excited to have been nominated the other day by The Non-Alcoholic Student for The Blogger Appreciation Award. I needed a few days to properly accept the award, mostly because I am challenged when it comes to things like figuring out how to insert links properly…hey, I’m here to write. The technical aspects can be a little intimidating. However, I did figure it out (it actually wasn’t all that hard), and now here I sit, feeling all appreciated and shit. Thanks for thinking of me, kid! Anyway, you should check out her blog- the title is pretty telling, but just in case you don’t get it, it’s a blog about a University student who is choosing the rare path of not drinking, rather than passing the time as a drunken mess.

Now lets see…what else do I have to do? Let me refer back to the rules…gimme a minute. Okay found them. Here they are:

  • Thank the blogger who nominated you and link back to their site.
  • Write a paragraph on something positive about yourself
  • Nominate and notify as many bloggers as you wish
  • Use the award image

Okay, I think I got the first part out of the way! Now let’s see…something positive about myself.

Well, I’m a pretty decent human being. I’ve been working hard on myself for a while now, and I seem to be making some headway. Having spent the majority of my youth deeply under the influence, it’s been interesting to see who I actually am under all the debris I am slowly clearing away. The answer, so far, is exactly that- a pretty decent human being. I am neither as awesome nor as repugnant as I had imagined. One thing I am continually surprised by is how good of a mom I am! I REALLY love making my kids the primary focus of my life- and yes, I know, that’s how most moms generally are, but…well, I wasn’t always this way. So I am really happy and proud of this. At two years and eight months in, I am still at the very beginning of a journey that I hope will last the rest of my life. I have a feeling that as I evolve, and continue to work hard at bettering myself, I am going to grow into exactly the woman I have always dreamed of being.

There, is that positive enough? Okay, on to the next thing. Nominating other bloggers I appreciate. Man, that is rough…I appreciate all of you guys. So, I am just going to pick three, but please know that you all bring something I love to the table, and that is why I follow you! Here goes:

My True North

Out an’ About

Hurrah for Coffee!

I hope you click on each link and give these bloggers a look! The last part asks that I use the award image- I am going to try to do that at the top of the page. We’ll see how THAT goes. Once again, I am so grateful to receive an award in appreciation of my blog. I pour a lot of my heart into this thing, and it feels great to know I am being heard, and reaching people here and there. I think that’s all any of us really want.

Talk to you all soon!


Facebook Fast, Day 7



You might have noticed that I have been posting a LOT this week. I think I published three blogs more than I intended to, but…well…you see…the truth is, I think I may be suffering a little bit from Facebook withdrawals. I don’t think I mentioned here that one of my New Year’s resolutions was to do a detox from the social media site so many of us love to hate. So, starting December 31st, I have been FB free.

The first few days didn’t bother me a bit- to my surprise, I hardly even thought about it. If anything, I just felt relief, and maybe a sense of freedom. By day five, the relief felt more like emptiness- I had the nagging sense that I was supposed to be doing something, but I couldn’t remember what it was. “What IS it?” I kept thinking to myself, wandering around the house, looking for the…the thing, whatever it was that was missing.

Yesterday was rough. It was Saturday, and I had a lot of free time- more than usual, actually, since I am kind of on a self imposed quarantine. Not because I am sick, but because pretty much everyone else here on the peninsula seems to be. I didn’t go to my Saturday morning meeting, I didn’t go to the gym…come to think of it, I didn’t even leave the house once yesterday. Whoa. Anyway, I was home, alone aside from a seven year old who just wanted to be left alone with her Roblox game (I think that’s what it’s called), with a lot of time on my hands. This would be the time when I would normally jump onto Facebook and start scrolling away.

Okay, wait, I just lied. The truth is, there was never a time when I wasn’t jumping onto Facebook, scrolling away. That was part of the problem. The thing is, and you may not agree, but remember, I am talking about ME right now- the thing is, my addictive behavior can manifest itself in a myriad of ways. It goes WAY beyond drugs, into all sorts of compulsive BS. Listen, not only was I blessed with the gift of addiction, but I am also a genuine, medically diagnosed ADHD “sufferer” (I say this only because I think the people around me suffer from my ADHD way worse than I do!), with the added bonus of not being able to take medication for it because…well, because the medication they give you for ADHD is a LOT like the “medication” I had a big problem with. To put it mildly.

So Facebook lights up all the synapses for me- I can satisfy compulsions, it’s fast and sort of gratifying, I can go back to it again and again and again, I can post funny little snippets of my life and get the reward of “Likes” and comments, kudos and agreement. Yuck! Definitely an element of narcissism in there too, isn’t there? Yeah, it just started to be bad for me. No, it was bad for a long time, actually. Not only was it bad for me in that way, but it really fired up all my character defects, too. I judged the fuck out of everyone on there- for their level of interesting (“Oh God, you are so boring, no one cares!”), for their number of selfies (I literally have NO BUSINESS saying shit about this one- didn’t stop me from thinking it, though), for their “If you agree, type AMEN” posts (Um, no.), and for their spelling. I mean…how do you mess up so badly when spell check exists? Look, we all make mistakes at times, but I have seen posts that were indecipherable, and I don’t get it. Facebook started to make me feel bad every time I went on, and I went on about a million times a day.

So, I stopped, and yesterday was the first time I missed it, but then I realized something. I didn’t miss Facebook at all, not really. What I missed was the false sense of connection, of involvement in people’s lives, that it gave me. Yes, this year, one of the things I am striving for is connection, but not like that. Not pretend connection, and me sitting at home, judging the spelling and choices of others. I want real connection, with people in real life…and I think I may have forgotten how to foster that. I was actually a little bit lonely yesterday- that’s what was going on.

Today, I am going to practice reaching out- I have been doing that a little bit lately. I left an incredibly awkward voicemail message for my friend recently, and I can’t help but laugh just thinking about it. He still hasn’t called me back, either, the jerk, but he’s an old friend, so I’m not worried. It’s kind of weird even picking up the phone and calling someone these days, in this world of texting as the main form of communication. But this year, I want to hear voices, and see faces. I want to get together IRL, you know?

Oh, and the Facebook Fast is only supposed to last through January, but who knows? Maybe I’ll keep it up even longer. Then again, maybe I won’t last the month.

No, I totally will. Thanks for putting up with all my chatter this week! I’ve found a lot of new blogs to follow, and have connected with a few new bloggers, which is great. I’m really curious what your experience and habits with Facebook are like, so please feel free to fill me in in the comments!

Talk to you soon! (You can pretty much bet on that)

The Fleeting Nature of Life

I have changed by leaps and bounds over the past two and a half years. Some of it was just by nature of staying off of drugs and letting my brain heal, but a lot of it was intentional and through hard, hard work, deep soul-searching, and honest reflection about the kind of person I am and who I want to be.

I am doing the recovery stuff- working with my sponsor, doing step-work, going to meetings. I am doing spiritual stuff- daily prayer and meditation. I have a therapist, I pay attention to my behavior, and try to reign it in when the way I am acting doesn’t jibe with the person I know I can be.

But nothing- and I mean NOTHING- can shake you up, nothing can clear the cobwebs out of your eyes, like the sudden loss of someone you love. I have never been more heartbroken in my life than I have since last August. That was when I lost my friend Joe, whom I loved so much more than I can even begin to explain, and even if I did, it wouldn’t make sense. That’s okay, though. Love doesn’t need to make sense, right? I always think about the way that most people get on my nerves, their frail human side is always coming to light, ruining everything. His never did. He never got on my nerves, like, not ever that I can remember. I am not trying to say that he didn’t have a bad side, that he never disappointed me or hurt my feelings, because he definitely did. He was just so easy for me to forgive. I wish I could love more people that way, but I haven’t yet (aside, of course, from my kids, but that is a different kind of thing altogether).

Anyway, he died. And it was one of the hardest days of my life, one of the worst phone calls I have ever survived. I remember that my knees just buckled, and I fell on the floor, the tears came in a torrent, and the grief was immediate and overwhelming. There have been lots of tears since then, and lots of times that I am totally fine. I can think of him or talk about him, and it makes me smile or laugh, no tears at all. As long as, you know, I don’t think too hard about what I am saying.

But what has happened as a result of him dying is, I have changed. I thought he was invincible. I know how stupid that sounds, but if you’d ever met Joe, you would understand why.  So, now that he is gone, I guess I view everything with more urgency, through the scope, I suppose, of someone who understands that life as I know it could change in an instant.

You might think that this would make me fearful, or hold on even more tightly to everything than I already do, but no…in a way, it has been a gift. Because I have had to face the fact that there is absolutely nothing I can do about some things. When it is your time, it is your time, plain and simple. Rather than making me cling to everything, I find myself learning to let go. Life is short. You had better enjoy every beautiful moment that makes itself available to you. Tell people you love them. Dance, be present, look up at the stars and the moon in the beautiful sky. Slow down. Say yes when you want to, and no when you should.

Don’t waste a bunch of time on petty anger, rushing through your day, always trying to get to the next thing, the next thing, the next thing. Take a moment to realize that this, right now, is your life. It is happening NOW. Maybe you are lucky, like me, and you are still relatively young, and your whole body works the way it is supposed to, and you can basically do anything you want to do. Do you realize how lucky that makes you? Don’t waste it. Don’t waste a single minute of it.

And that is all I have to say about that today. Carry on.

First Times


I think you get to a point in life, a certain age, when you think most of your “firsts” are behind you. At 42, with the life I have lived so far, I certainly felt like that was true. And then something happens, out of the blue, that knocks you right the fuck off your feet, and you realize how wrong you were. How wrong I was, I mean. Yeah.

I’ve started this before, and had to abandon it, because it turned into something I didn’t want it to be. You see, I lost someone I cared about the other day, and it was sudden, and awful, and I was not…because you cannot ever be…ready. I was GUTTED. I couldn’t get my shit together. I have never in my life fallen on the floor because I literally could not stand up beneath the weight of what I had just learned, but I did that, I did it when I heard about this death on Monday morning. I fell right on the floor. The tears did not waste a moment in coming, and the sounds that I made for the next two days were feral and weird and would have been embarrassing if I gave a fuck. Which, by the way, I did not.

I missed two days of work, but I have been checked out all week. I can’t seem to get my thoughts to move too far past this event. “Joe is dead.” my head keeps reminding me, as if I could forget. “Psst- Joe died.”

And here’s the thing: I don’t really cry. It’s been a concern of mine for a while, like- is something wrong with me? Is something in there broken, that I never cry? This has been a real worry I’ve had, one that I have discussed with friends and even with my therapist. I’ve thought about getting acupuncture, or that kind of massage that unblocks your fucked up energy, whatever it’s called. I honestly thought I had problems (Oh wait, I do. But that’s not what I am talking about, thanks). What I had was just a bunch of little shit not important enough to cry over. Because I have cried this week. A lot.

I don’t really want to write about Joe. I just don’t. I will say this much- anyone who knows me well, knows that I loved him. I’ve let a lot of friendships fall to the wayside as my life has changed, but I held onto his. I am having a tough time imagining my life without his visits for coffee, or playing cards with my six year old and I. I liked talking to him so much. He made me feel like I should be proud of my life, as if he were proud of the life I have made for myself. I can’t even put it into words without making it sound so paltry, and it wasn’t, so I’m going to stop. The point is, I will miss him.

Back to first times- so, this is the first time that I have ever tried to go through something like this without putting a drug or a drink in my body to change the way I felt. I have to say, it really sucks. I mean, Jesus, the FEELINGS I have had to FEEL this week. Oh, Lord. It’s like the difference between turning on your kitchen sink, and smashing open a fire hydrant. I realize that if I want to hold onto my clean date, intoxication is not an option for me, but man, a stiff drink would have been really welcome at a few points these past few days.

There is a reading in Just For Today that talks about loss in recovery. I always skip over that one, because it seems so morbid and jinxy to me. I hate that reading. It just came up not too many days ago, and I skipped over it again- such a downer. I think I should probably go read it, now that I am feeling less volatile. What I really feel like is this: I’m glad I got to grieve this death clean. My friend deserved all those tears, and that grief, for the loss of his life. That probably sounds so weird, but I know what I mean. I’m not trying to put down the way anyone else copes with grief, not even. I’m just saying, for me, I’m happy to get to be fully present for it. If it had to be this way, I want to show up all the way.

It’s Friday. I have to go into the office today, and be around people for the first time all week, and I think it will be okay. I think everything is going to be okay. I am just going to keep doing this because that is what we all have to do, right? Life really does go on. The world stands still for a beat…and then it just goes on. Rest in Peace, Joe. I love you.



And Out of the Woodwork, They Come…

courtesy of Francesca Miller
courtesy of Francesca Miller

The bulk of my days, Monday through Friday, are spent working, or getting ready for work, or doing all of the things we have to do once work is over. When I am not doing those things, I am generally doing a short list of other important things that never seem to end, in rotation. Things like: Figure out what to make for dinner; Go to the grocery store because there is nothing to make for dinner and/or we are missing one or two vital ingredients needed to make dinner, and/or we need milk. We always need milk. Clean up the house; Try to spend some quality time with one or more of my children; Try to spend quality time with my dog. Run BACK to the store because we are out of cat food. We are always out of cat food. Try to fit exercise in there, somewhere. Wash some clothes- we are ALWAYS out of clean clothes. Go to bed.

As you can imagine, this doesn’t leave a ton of time for cultivating and sustaining friendships. At least, not the kind you want to have when you find yourself with a sick child in the hospital on a gorgeous day at the end of May. Which is exactly what happened to me the other day. See, my little child has a tendency to react in an alarming way to what would be an inconsequential bug bite on most people- she gets all puffed up and swollen in a way that her infectious disease specialist has succinctly described as “weird”. So, this time, when we went to the ER, they decided that we couldn’t go home, like we usually do. We had to stay, be admitted, get some IV antibiotics into my awesomely brave little peanut.

Which would have been fine…except- I have another child out wandering the world without her cell phone, who had no idea what was going on. Even if she did, I didn’t have anyone to come stay with her, and once I did reach her, she refused to come up and stay at the hospital with me. To make matters even more lovely, I started my period in a heinous way ( need I say more, girls?) which may or may not have contributed to my gloomy perspective on things.  Oh yeah, also, I did not have my phone charger, so my phone went dead in what seemed like a matter of minutes. Well, about five seconds after I posted something like “I am alone in the world. I hate everyone.” as my Facebook status. I know, I know- it even sounds melodramatic to ME, now. But at the moment, that was how I felt.

We were moved from the ER to an inpatient room about seven thousand years later, and we both, baby and I, fell asleep in her big old hospital bed (after she got tired of pressing all of the buttons and beeping the nurses station fifty seven thousand times- sorry about that, nurses!) about seven in the evening. When I woke up in the morning and plugged in my laptop, I was amazed at the number of people who responded to my sad-sack status.  The number of private messages from friends wanting to know what was wrong, and how they could help, was even more staggering.  By nine o’clock that morning, I had two good friends there willing to hang out with my child (who was under quarantine, no less) so that I could go grab some coffee and hide in my car for a cigarette. Before that, I had my boss there, as well as another co-worker on her break, and so many other people who were willing to come if I just said the word. And did I need anything else? Food? Baked goods that were so yummy (thank you for the chocolate banana croissant, girls) they could barely be categorized as food? Then, of course, our beloved Donna, without whom I really don’t think I could survive, came, and I got to go home, shower, grab a phone charger. And that was the other wonder of wonders- when I plugged in my phone, I had alarms alarming and alerts alerting in a way that I can only describe as “symphonic.” That phone beeped and clanged for five minutes after I hooked it up.

I went in to the hospital feeling terribly isolated and alone, and it made me really determined to work harder, to put in the time that good, strong friendships deserve. I left the hospital feeling loved and cared for, and really determined to work harder, to put in the time that good strong friendships deserve…except that now, I know it won’t be nearly as much work as I thought. It will be a great pleasure. And I know just where to put my efforts.

Thank you all so much for your kindness. Every word and gesture meant the world to me.