Posted in adventure, aging, fun, funny, health, humor, Life, Musings, People, random, women

I Am Going To Get Old

I mean, not to jinx myself or anything, but…it kind of looks that way. I’m not one of those people who never thought they’d make it to 30, as I’ve heard So. Many. People. Announce. Nope, although perhaps, considering my lifestyle over the years, that should have been more of a concern of mine. I took for granted that I would make it to 30, and 40, and onward, I guess…but I think I thought I would just feel young forever.

Not so much. As my 44th birthday approaches in just a few days, I gotta tell you…shit is catching up to me. I wake up in the morning, and it seems that just the simple act of sleeping now causes my body such distress. I lurch upward like Frankenstein after he’s been electrified into life, making the same moaning and groaning sounds. I set my feet on the floor with great care, never sure exactly how bad which things will hurt. This morning, for instance, my lower back feels as if I spent the whole day yesterday lifting heavy things the wrong way, except I didn’t. All I did was go to bed last night, sleep, and wake up.

For that matter, just sitting in the same position for too long can now cause pain. What the hell is that about? Yesterday, I was lounging on the couch with my knee bent for like five minutes too long, apparently, and when I went to shift around, it hurt! I had to do it slowly to keep the agony at bay. What is that? Is it natures way of telling me I need to move more? Because I really don’t want to, but if I must, I suppose I can make it happen. Grudgingly.

I recently spent upwards of a hundred bucks on a cream that would purportedly “firm” the “crepey” skin of my neck. In other words, I’m trying to diminish the signs of old lady neck. I think it might be working, a little, but let me tell you something- this shit smells like something you would use to lubricate a diesel engine. I am not joking when I tell you that the older you get, the more…intense the scents of your skincare regimen become. When I was in my 20’s, everything smelled like “Fresh Orange Bursts!” or “Grapefruit Sorbet!” or some such shit. We then moved on to “Clean scents” that smelled mildly floral or…I don’t know, the way you remember your mom smelling, I guess. That was fine. At my age? They don’t even bother trying to mask the chemical aroma of the heavy-duty crap that’s trying to salvage the very flesh of your face. I literally have a tube of Retinol cream that’s called- and I am not making this up- “Help Me!”. Its job is to burn the top layer of my face off every night because my skin is so old it has now forgotten how to regenerate itself. And that’s just one of FOUR things I slather on my face and neck every night.

Gravity is working overtime on every part of my body, which is fine on the parts of me that I am not showing the world- I mean, that’s what bras are for, right? But the only face bra I know of is plastic surgery, and that’s not happening. Also, my arms…oh, man, my arms. I love, love, love sleeveless blouses, but lately I’m not pulling them off like I used to.  And I know, I KNOW- if I could just find it within me to get back on my gym routine, this is a problem that would be easily remedied, but…this is my griping post, so get out of my face with your helpful suggestions. I am not in the mood.

Everywhere I go, I see old people. I mean, I work at a hospital, and I live in a town where the older population is astronomically higher than average, but Jesus. I see these elderly people, trudging down the street, clutching canes and moving so slow, and it just…it freaks me out! I mean, best case scenario, I get old. That’s the WIN. My options are- 1.) Die right now, which would be tragic, because I’m still technically young by death’s standards, or 2.) Get really old and slow and sad and grouchy because everything is hard, including breathing. Ugh, I don’t even know why I am thinking about it!

Every day of my life, I read peoples medical records- it’s okay, that’s what I do for a living. But I’ve come to realize that I am incredibly healthy. I don’t take any medications for anything, my blood pressure is perfect, my cholesterol is normal. My weight is a bit of a problem, but not by medical standards, just by mine, personally. This would be great if I had lived a mild type of life and took generally good care of myself over the years. It’s a fucking miracle if you consider that I spent a great portion of my life doing things that might have looked, to a moderately intelligent bystander, as if I were actively trying to kill myself. Not even slowly kill myself, but like, soon. Like, tomorrow maybe.

So, I’ve got it pretty good. I think, with a few small tweaks, I could probably sail through the rest of my 40’s with aplomb, and make it look good. But, you know, it’s going to require a bit more effort on my part than it did in my 30’s, that’s all. And a few more tubs of diesel lubricant neck cream. And maybe a new mattress, because the one I have now is going to put me in a wheel chair, I’m not kidding. Perhaps a few more glasses of water, and maybe a little more time exercising.

I’ll get started right after I take a tiny little nap. Or maybe tomorrow. Hahaha.

 

 

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Posted in anxiety, family, Holidays, inner peace, kids, Life, Mental Health, motherhood, parenting, People, relationships

Another Great Christmas

a happy christmas

I woke up this morning (well, this middle of the damn night, really) in my fancy new pajamas, courtesy of my mama, looking about as smart as a half-asleep bed headed woman can look, and I have to tell you- I feel nothing right now except for gratitude for the day I had yesterday. My house, which I scrubbed from top to bottom on Monday, is in utter shambles all around me. There is a mountain of empty boxes behind me against the book shelf, there are tiny little plastic toy packaging pieces- or maybe they are toy parts? I don’t know, but…anyway, flotsam and jetsam liberally litters the floor and surfaces. My kitchen sink is piled high with dishes- you get the picture. It’s a mess. And I’m not even mad- about the mess, or about the fact that I fell asleep at 6:30 in the evening last night, leaving all of this for today me to deal with. You want to know why? Good, I’ll tell you.

Reason Number One: My last two posts involved me having a sort of mini nervous breakdown last week, and though I might have tried to make light of it (perhaps failing to do so) I was REALLY scared about the future implications of what that massive panic attack might mean. I didn’t know if it was just a one-off, or a terrible harbinger of mental problems to come. So the fact that my fear and panic and anxiety seems to have resolved itself and then some was enough to put me over the moon by Christmas day. Not only has the fear, anxiety, and panic receded, but I seem to have come out of it with a much better attitude and my feet more firmly planted on the ground. That intense fear I felt appears to have made my day-to-day fears seem so silly in comparison that I just don’t have time for that shit. I’m gonna live my life. This is very exciting.

Reason Number Two: Christmas stopped being about what I was getting a long time ago. This year it wasn’t even about what I gave to others, either- at least, not quite as much. Don’t get me wrong, I have found a lot of joy in gift giving as I’ve grown up, but now it’s more the feeling of being the mom of this family, being the home that my loved ones show up at to celebrate. Suddenly, I am the “mom”, the home, the destination. For the first time ever, I took so much pride in that. My tree was perfect this year, my home was clean and welcoming, I did it right.

Reason Number Three: Another first for me- I didn’t have a single second of worry about money this year. It’s not that I am rolling in it or anything, but I’m finally in a place where I am financially stable and did not have to stress about every penny. What a blessing this is! I have spent every Christmas of my adult life until now freaking out around Christmas time, worried that I wasn’t going to pull it off. This year was different, and for that I am beyond relieved. I didn’t go crazy by any means- why ask for trouble? But it was nice to not have to sweat it. I have worked and worked and worked to get to this spot, and it’s finally paid off.

Reason Number Four: I didn’t ruin everyone’s day with my own expectations, subsequent disappointment, and then unavoidable meltdown. Seriously, this has been a thing I’ve been known to do. Past years, I have imagined idyllic scenes of love and appreciation, respectful gift openings, and dinner at a perfectly set table…and when that all went to shit, as it will, I freaked out. This year, I just wanted to be happy. I let everyone do their thing. And I was there for it. I just kept being there for it, whatever “it” was. And guess what? I was far happier as a result. When Camryn started ripping into her gifts faster than I could register them, I let it happen. When Aisley didn’t want to sit down at the table with us for dinner, I let that go. When Devon fell asleep- in his car, then on the couch, then on my bed- I didn’t need to get upset. Why did I ever need to? Why let it bother me? I honestly tried to go with the flow this year, and it made everything so much better!

Reason Number Five: Devon and I decided to spend our holiday’s together with our daughter, rather than trying to figure out who gets her when and then one of us having to miss our girl on Christmas or Thanksgiving or Easter. Gosh, that seems so sad, and I couldn’t really enjoy my day knowing he was somewhere feeling down and lonely. I’d like to think he feels the same. So, we co-parented like freaking champs yesterday. We cooked a beautiful meal together, we spent a peaceful day in each other’s company, and it was such a massive win for Camryn, whether she ever knows it or not. No fighting (except a brief spat about politics), no animosity, just her mom and dad hanging out with her on Christmas. That was the best thing we could’ve done for her, and I’m so proud of that.

All in all, it was a wonderful day. I am not a religious person, but I do love God, and I am deeply connected to my spiritual side. So I said many prayers of thanks yesterday, and shed a few tears of gratitude, and a few of sadness, for the family and friends I’ve lost the past few years. I went to bed healthy, grateful for my family, my tummy and my heart both full. What more can you really ask for from a day, especially Christmas? Not much. Not much more than that at all.

Posted in anxiety, family, kids, Life, living, love, mindfulness, motherhood, parenting, People

This Beautiful Moment

winnie

Yesterday, against my better judgement, I went to see Christopher Robin, the new Winnie the Pooh movie that is out right now. I had scheduled a play-date for Camryn and her little friend Robine from school- she’s this adorable little girl who is here for three years with her family from the Netherlands, and she is literally my favorite of all the kids in Cam’s class, aside from Cam herself, of course. Anyway, I had wanted to see The Incredibles 2, but as usual, I missed the boat on that one. So the only thing playing was Christopher Robin, and that was that.

I have never been a big fan of Winnie the Pooh. I don’t know why, I was just never into it. And honestly, the movie wasn’t all that great, but…that didn’t stop me from bawling my eyes out through half of it. Why? You want to know why? Okay, I’ll tell you: Because it reminded me of a few things- one of which is the terrible way we lose our true selves as adults, and become these tense, unimaginative people most of the time. We get our priorities so wrong, we place work and money above our families and the things we truly love. I think about this all the time, but I still catch myself doing it, no matter how bizarre and backwards it seems.

Another reason it made me so wistful was the way it portrayed the sad loss of childhood, the way we leave behind the playful, joyful little people we were. Especially right now, especially for me…dealing with all of this anxiety lately, just trying to hold it all together. It doesn’t allow me a lot of room for full-throttle happiness. I mostly feel like I am peering inside myself with a spotlight and a magnifying glass. Which is utter bullshit, because the world is far too big for me to spend all of my time gazing at myself. I need to stop it.

Which brings me to my third reason for crying- my daughter is having her childhood right this very moment. This is such an odd time for being a child, isn’t it? So different than the way it was when I was little. I played outside, unsupervised, for hours and hours at her age. I explored the woods next door to my grandparents house with a friend my age- we found a creek to jump in and a low-voltage fence to take turns touching, we explored abandoned buildings and did all sorts of stuff that was unwise and dangerous. But I never got seriously lost or gravely injured, and I grew up to be independent and mostly unafraid of the world.

With my anxiety being primarily about the safety of my children, you can imagine what the thought of that kind of free time for my seven year old does to my stomach. And yet, I wouldn’t trade my experiences as a kid for anything. What a quandary. If it is my responsibility to provide her with the most enriching and full childhood that I can, but I am scared to let her loose, what do I do? I guess I find a happy medium. Let go a little, but keep her in sight? Spend more time doing things I don’t really want to do because I’m lazy, knowing they will be the best memories for her? Yeah, I think that’s really all there is to do. Because lets be real- I’m not releasing her into the woods to explore abandoned buildings. I don’t know what the hell my family was thinking. LOL.

More succinctly, I was crying because it hit me that my littlest daughter isn’t going to be a child forever- not even for very much longer, really, and we forget, don’t we? We just live through the days as if they will stretch on forever, forgetting how fast it all goes by. The thing is, childhood is so short, but it is so beautiful and so important. I guess I just want to remember, so that I can make hers the very best I can manage. That’s what I am thinking about today.

Also, spoiler alert: Christopher Robin is a total dick to Pooh, and that also made me cry. The kids didn’t cry, but I was a mess. How embarrassing.

Posted in advice, faith, friendship, inner peace, Life, mindfulness, People, random

Awake and Thinking

trust yourself

Seems like my most clear thinking happens right when I wake up in the morning, somewhere between my first and second cup of coffee. The house is silent, the world is silent, and I don’t have the energy yet to argue with the sensible half of my brain- the one that will tell it like it is.

Some things that came to me this morning, for instance, are that I need to have better boundaries- I mean, at least I have SOME now, which is more than I can say for myself a year ago at this time. But there is a point at which you kind of have to go “You know, this is just more trouble than it’s worth.” and hang it up. I have such a happy, peaceful life. Yeah, that gets boring sometimes- I am, after all, a tried and true addict who once thrived on a full drama diet, but…that’s just not who I am anymore. I don’t want to feel bad or weird about anything I do.

Another thing I realized is that you only know as much about a person as they are willing to show you. There is always, always more to the story. You can count on that. And this is where your gut instincts come in. I can’t recommend anything more in life than listening to your gut. I’m a little slow at processing things for some reason, but eventually I do come around…I’ve never understood this about myself. I consider myself to be relatively quick witted and smart, but when it comes to emotional maturity, I struggle. I really do. This morning, my instincts are talking to me, and I have no choice but to listen. What I will do with that information remains to be seen, but I hope I can make myself proud.

And finally, the thread running through all of these thoughts is just love for myself. What a strange new thing this is- that I can look at myself so lovingly, even when I am struggling to figure out what I’m supposed to do. I have a long history of beating myself up for just being a person trying to live life…to actually maintain some affection for myself no matter what is pretty astounding. I am handling my business with grace, though, and a really level head, and like an adult woman, and this makes me extremely proud of myself. I can be upset and still not be ugly- did you guys know this was a thing?! Because I’d heard of it, but didn’t think it had anything to do with me.

I know this is kind of random, and maybe it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but maybe for someone it will. It does for me. And that’s all I have to say. So just go out and have a wonderful day, would you please?

Posted in anxiety, Depression, faith, inner peace, Life, Mental Health, Musings

Being Human

being human

Last week was ROUGH. You may have notice my absence here, you may not have. I think I threw out my “Three things” post, and that was about it. I just wasn’t feeling it. I wrote a really angry post on Friday morning, but opted not to publish it, as it just didn’t feel like who I want to show up in the world as. Angry me is not the best me. So I left it. The event that happened to inspire the anger happened, and I can’t change it. Suffice to say that human beings are fickle and misguided sometimes, and they are prone to doing things that will disappoint you. Some humans are more prone to this than others. When you know this about them, it’s kind of on you to proceed accordingly. I forgot that, and I got a solid reminder. I am practicing acceptance, and will try to forgive but stop forgetting. I forget too easily. Sorry for the vagueness- I hate when other people do that shit, and here I am doing it. The sum of the matter is, someone hurt my feelings and went behind my back, and I am trying to deal with the situation with a modicum of dignity and some wisdom, rather than my normal routine of utterly blowing up, seeking revenge, and making everything three thousand times worse. I am trying to change.

In other news, this dance I have been doing with depression- good Lord, it gets old. It’s not bad enough for me to stop showering, but it’s just bad enough where I will skip other little things- I don’t bother putting on lotion, I don’t bother brushing my hair. Rather than dealing with laundry, I’ll just wear the same clothes I had on the day before- it’s not like I did anything, anyway. It’s this weird thing where I am always wondering, am I supposed to lean into it, or do I fight it? Do I let myself feel how I am feeling, or do I “act as if”, plaster a smile on my face, and fake it like crazy? There’s this fear that if I let myself rest here too long, I won’t ever be able to get back up again. It’s hard to know how to care for yourself properly when your instincts are all screwed up, and you aren’t really sure you can trust yourself. So, I have been doing a little bit of both things- resting a little bit more than usual, and as soon as I can, I get up and do as much as I am able to. It seems to be working. I definitely got less than usual done this weekend, but I did get more done than I expected.

I’ve had a chance to talk to a few different people about the way I’ve been feeling and what I’ve been going through, and each one of them confirmed that they know exactly what I am talking about and have found themselves dealing with the same things- if not right now, then recently. What I got out of that is that maybe this is just part of growing up, growing older. You think things will be a certain way, and they aren’t, and it’s hard on our spirits. I think we have this idea that when we reach a certain age, everything evens out and life gets easy- I know I, at least, always sort of pictured life this way when I was younger; “When I accomplish a), b), and c), everything will be just right…” But that isn’t how it works. There are growing pains at every age, and I think they are made harder by the inevitable cynicism we pick up along the way. Call it wisdom or knowledge if that makes you feel more comfortable, but the fact is, as we age, we learn unhappy truths and it can fuck with feelings of hope and happiness. That can be hard to deal with.

So what, then, are we to do? Well, we just keep going, just like I am doing, and try to deal with our uncomfortable feelings the best we can. Try not to let it shut you down completely. If you just can’t do another thing, give yourself a break and binge some Bob’s Burger, for levity, and recharge your battery. “Act as if” a little, and say “Fuck it all” a little. Take as good of care of yourself as you can, and forgive yourself immediately for what you can’t quite do. But definitely do what you can.

Listen, life is hard sometimes, but it is also beautiful- it can be beautiful and hard at the same time, even. You might have to look a little harder to see it, but it’s all still there. Today, my intention is to push myself a little more than I did yesterday because, so far, I am feeling a little better…but that could change, and I am not going to be mad at myself if things don’t go as planned. I’m going to treat myself like a good friend who is going through a rough time (because essentially, that is what I am) and act accordingly. I am going to look for the beauty. And I am going to allow myself to be this weird little human that I am.

Posted in Addiction, adventure, Blogging, family, inner peace, Life, living, Mental Health, People, recovery, writing

6 Years Old

6

A few days ago, I received a notification that my blog has been around for 6 years! Oh my goodness, that really is hard to believe- I remember very clearly starting this blog, and what I thought I wanted to write about. Funny how that wound up working out- my writing had other plans, and took me in a very different direction.

Sometimes I want to go back and remove some of the posts I have shared. There are plenty where it is clear to me that I was not doing so well when I wrote them, and it causes me a bit of shame to read the words I wrote when I was not in my right mind. But I haven’t done it yet, and I don’t know if I will- that’s kind of what this blog is; a real life account of an addict, both using and clean. I can confirm that this is true with simple math- the blog is six years old, and I have two years, eight months, and one day clean. There were many small stretches of sobriety interspersed here with other stretches of not-so-much.

There were long periods of time when I didn’t write anything at all- maybe one or two disjointed posts over the stretch of many months. There were times when I promised to write again regularly, and meant it, only for life to show up and take me for a ride in a different direction. There were times when I thought about abandoning this particular project all together, but just…never got around to it. I’m glad I didn’t do that.

I was fooling around with the stats of this blog the other night, and there is a way to see how many other countries have viewed your blog. Let me tell you, in six years, I don’t think there is one country that hasn’t at least popped in. Countries I honestly didn’t know existed have viewed this blog! It blew my mind. There have been thousands and thousands of views, thousands of likes, and hundreds of comments. I mean, that is so freaking cool!

So, happy birthday to my blog, and thanks so much to all of you who take the time out of your lives to read my ramblings, who reach out to me and let me know you are really feeling what I do, and who make me feel like I have something to offer. This has been a wonderful part of my journey.

RLG Family 4

I am happy to report that I am not the same person who started this blog six years ago. I have been through so much, but I have learned from all of it, and I am in a much better place now than I have ever been before. My life is calm (for the most part), my recovery is solid, and my heart has more peace in it than it ever has before. I have learned that I do not have to be afraid of myself anymore- I have learned to trust myself to do the right thing. This is huge. There was a time when I feared that if no one else could save me, left to my own devices, I was as good as dead. I’m so glad to report that I was wrong. Somehow, and with some divine intervention, I’m sure, I became the hero of my own story.

Not only can I depend on myself, but other people can depend on me- my job knows I will show up. My kids know I will be there for them. My friends can call me, day or night. I might not pick up the phone every time, but I will definitely come through as soon as I can (hey, I’m not perfect, give me a break). My bills get paid, and the chores, eventually, get done. My dog gets walked, my cats get…whatever it is that cats need.

In short, my life has become a safe place to be, and it blows my mind every single time it sinks in. Like, whoa! How did I get here? It is truly staggering, the reality of how I turned this ship around. I am proud of it, sure, but more than that, I am deeply, profoundly grateful.

And I look forward to sharing it all with you, going forward. Thanks for hanging out!

 

Posted in advice, aging, family, inner peace, kids, Learning, Life, living, love, motherhood, Musings, parenting, People, relationships

Letting Go of Old Resentments in Favor of Love:

God, it’s been so long since I have sat here and tried to write anything, that I almost don’t know where to start. I got stuck on the “Title” space for such a long time that I decided to just write first, and see if something came to me. In case you are curious, I will tell you that over the past two months, while I haven’t been writing, I have been doing a lot of work on myself. Trust me, there was plenty of stuff to work on, and plenty left to do…I’m not one to just leave myself be. Oh, if only I could. But that will never be me. Anyway, I thought about writing a lot, but I just didn’t have anything I wanted to say, here…then, the past few days, the urge started coming over me again. If you write, you know what I mean- little ideas start tickling the back of your mind. Nothing too pressing. Then, this morning came, and I knew it was time.

resentment

This morning, a friend of mine lost her father. He was in hospice, and so it wasn’t unexpected, but…she fell asleep beside him, holding his hand, and when she woke up, he was gone. She is devastated. Last week, a friend that I work with lost her mother. Like my other friend, she was there with her, right to the very end. We talked for a long time about it, and I told her that when I found out her mom had passed, I tried to imagine what it would be like to wake up in a world where my mother no longer resided- I really did this, at home, alone, trying to put myself in my friends place. Because, you know, I have never done that. No matter what kind of relationship I have with my mom- and it goes through phases- I have always had the assurance that she was there. I have taken that for granted every single day of my entire life. Imagine what it would feel like for that not to be true. Of course, if you have already lost one, or both, of your parents, you already know…but for the rest of us, it bears thinking about.

Now, think for a second about the resentments, big or small, that you carry around. Are they worth the price they will cost you if they are holding you back from fully loving someone that gave you life? This is a question I asked myself, and it may be worth asking yourself, as well. I am not saying that just because someone is your parent, anything they have done should be forgiven- I know there are horror stories of abandonment and abuse, and I am not talking about that. I am talking about things…well, I guess I am talking about the things that I have carried around, that hold ME back. I suppose what I am saying is that I have chosen not to love as fully as I could, maybe not consciously, because of my own resentments…things that belong in the past, to people who don’t really even exist anymore.

We grow up- children are not the only ones who grow up, who change. I certainly have, and I know my parents have, too. I want to love them with my WHOLE heart, and that is what I hope to do. Because they are still here, and I am a lucky daughter, indeed. I look at how strained my relationship is with my mom and dad at certain times (whether they know it or not) and I hope more than anything that my kids don’t ever have that kind of resentment or any of those kinds of feelings about me. But, boy, I have sure given them plenty of good material to use.

Here’s the thing- my parents are human beings, and human beings mess up. I know they had the best of intentions, like every one of us do, and they did stuff they regret anyway. I know this to be true, not just because I lived through it but because they’ve told me. With their own mouths, they have said to me:  “I wish I would have done things differently”. My mom has beat herself up for years over things she cannot change, decisions she made, that, at the time were the VERY BEST she could make from the options she had. And you know what? We are okay, anyway. My brother and I love her, we go to her with all of our stuff…but in my heart, I know I have held myself back. She can’t go back in time and change anything, anymore than I can go back and give my daughter a happy childhood with a mother who was not on drugs, not abrasive and full of rage. I can never, ever do that. But I hope she forgives me. I need forgiveness, too.

Today, I am letting go of that shit- those old resentments I have carried for far too long. I am going to love my parents fully, both of them, because they deserve it. They have loved and forgiven me for a lot of stuff- it’s time, for all of our sakes, that I leave the past in the past. I am so glad my mom and dad are still here, that I can pick up the phone and call them just to say “I love you.” And maybe this blog didn’t make a lot of sense to you, but my heart sure needed to puzzle this out. Thanks for reading- hope to see you again here, soon.