It's Been a Long, Strange Trip......

Lost...

2010-08-18T13:12:00.004-04:00

Not sure why, but I found myself on my own blog for the first time in years. Still encouraged by those around me to write a book, I kept this link around to access the many installations of my life over the last several years. Since the days of Facebook, blogs have become obsolete, though, I just realized that has nothing to do with my lack of posting.

I have just had a very unexpected, very unwelcomed "ah-ha moment". I lost myself. A while ago. Like, really, really lost myself.

I wrote that last essay about Ross very early into what would become the most corrosive, painful, and tumultuous period of my life, following which I have never fully recovered. That decision to leap into the unknown of sharing my life with a relapsing addict had consequences that I really didn't even conceive of. I never imagined that I was the sort of woman who would end up so hopelessly trapped in a blinding whirl of madness, control, and despair. And to NOT walk away! I never, ever thought that would be me. But it was. It is.

Now it's time to peel away the layers in my own true form; introspectively, creatively, fearlessly and with a dash of dark humor. Time to find me again. Time to come back.

Letter to a grieving friend...

2010-08-18T11:47:00.003-04:00

Maile,
I wanted share something with you. On November 3, 2000, my fiance' Jimmy Van Denend, the love of my life, was killed instantly in a duck hunting accident. His death turned my world upside-down. My grief was unbearable. Every moment of every day was like a surreal nightmare that I thought would never end.

Two things I want to share with you about that experience. First I would like to give you a suggestion that our funeral director gave to me. He told me to forgive people in advance for what they were going to say. People, including me (right now) will grasp for words that will comfort you, even if just for a moment, as they are overwhelmed by a sense of powerlessness. A few of my friends, Jimmys friends, later told me that it was almost more difficult to watch me go through my grief than it was to have lost Jimmy in the first place. Some will succeed at giving you a shred of comfort, a spark of hope. But others may not only fail but may downright offend. Forgive them in advance. They just don't have any idea what to say or do to take your pain away.

Second, I remember so desperately wishing that I could come face to face with myself a year in the future. See, Maile, I could not wrap my mind around the concept that "it won't always feel like this". Time had stopped and each moment felt worse than the one before. Then there would be a minute or two here and there where I would find peace, somehow. I would be distracted or comforted just the right way. Whatever it was, I would get a moment of peace until cruel reality would, all too quickly and violently, come rushing back into my world.

Somehow, somewhere deep down, I believed that I might just survive this experience and I wanted to talk to that girl, myself, once I had survived it.

Maile I remember the day that I could breathe again. Literally breathe as though the suffocating,choking weight on my chest had lifted. I remember the first day that I noticed the sun in the sky. I remember the first time I managed a smile. A real smile. And then a laugh, and eventually a belly laugh. I remember the first time that I realized that I had gone a whole hour without wanting to cry. A whole hour not spinning in my head, replaying the whole thing over and over. And then two hours and then a whole day. I remember the first day that I felt like I might actually get through this pain.

I think about Jimmy all the time. I miss him every day and I talk about him often. My life has been forever separated into before he died and after. Knowing him, loving him, and then losing him has been weaved into a significant portion of the fabric of my being. And I am grateful to have been a part of his life, even though my time with him wasn't long enough.

When people told me that "he was in a better place", that I would get "over" it, and that it would get better with time, these words did not comfort me.

Maile, all I can tell you for sure is that I have no idea where Jimmy went when he left, but I feel him, tangibly feel him, to this day. I know that I am not, nor will I ever be "over it". It is neither possible to get "over" such a defining moment of my life nor is it possible to "get over" loving a man who was and will always be precious to me. I would never wish in a million years to get "over" it. And, for me, it has gotten different with time. I have a beautiful life today that is neither "better" nor "worse" than it was the day Jimmy died. It is what it is. I am a woman who was lucky enough to have had the opportunity to love a man like Jimmy, a woman who lost the man that she loved, a woman who survived that loss, a woman whose whole life was changed by that experience, and a woman who discovered a part of herself, deep down inside, that she never would have otherwise met. I am a woman who, at the lowest moment of her life, was showered with more love than she ever thought possible, and a woman who, today, can empathize with others who suffer a sudden, tragic and unimaginable loss the way only someone who has experienced such a personal loss can. Please know that I, in no way, think that my experience in any way amounts to losing a child. I absolutely cannot imagine what that feels like nor will I pretend like I do. All I have to offer you is my story in the hope that you can find in it some comfort, maybe some hope, or at the very least a moment or two of distraction.

I know it has been a million years since we have spoken but I absolutely mean it when I say that you can call on me day or night if you need someone to listen, someone to talk while you take a break and just listen, or someone to just be still on the other end while you cry and not pretend that she knows just the right thing to say. Soak up the love, you're gonna need it. Try to drink fluids, and if you can't eat, try to sip some Ensure. Stress Vitamin B complex is good for your body right now and try, just try, to be kind to yourself. Your physical body is in as much turmoil as your spirit.

Remember that your grief belongs to you and nobody else. As horrible as it is, it will one day be precious to you. Experience it in your own way, at your own pace.

I wish peace for you and believe that you will feel that peace again someday, somehow.

Your old friend, Liz

2007-09-20T18:36:00.001-04:00

2007-09-18T17:19:00.001-04:00

find and share recovery images at anonymousspace.com

2007-09-18T10:38:00.000-04:00

Letting Go

Madly in love with him as ever, the red flags were a-flying. Never underestimate the power of denial in a situation like this. I didn’t want to admit or accept what was really going on, but the red-light indicators were all there. Sketchy meeting attendance at best, mood swings, late-night bike rides, small lies about certain things like who had called and when, etc…

I tried confronting him a few times, telling him what I was seeing, making suggestions that he find SOMEONE, ANYONE to talk to about what was going on in his head. I watched him show up at meetings and share that his head was all fucked up and that he didn’t understand it, nor did he know what to do with it, and that he needed help. I watched at those same meetings as nobody, not one person, reached out to him. I watched him call his sponsor three times…and receive no phone call back. Then, finally, his sponsor called him back to tell him that he didn’t have time to sponsor him anymore because of his busy work schedule. Add to this the fact that some kid in his aftercare group was offering him heroine on a weekly basis……..and you have the perfect storm. Really, it was only a matter of time before he was gonna use.

I didn’t know what someone on heroine looked or acted like. I’ve never been around it. So, I didn’t know it was happening…right under my nose. I know now that he got high about five times in a two week period, scoring the dope from this kid in Holland. And then he graduated to contacting an old friend and getting good dope from Grand Rapids. He’s lucky to be alive, and he’s lucky all of this only lasted a month.

One day, as I was getting ready to take him to his work for a dinner shift, I noticed a mark on his arm. “What’s that?” I asked. “Don’t know.” He said, “Must be a bug bite or something.” I made jokes on the way to work that he had better hope that his boss didn’t notice the “track marks” on his arms….hahaha. Again, never underestimate the power of denial.

After work that night, he was undressing to get in the shower. I asked to see his arm again. And then I asked to see his other arm. “Oh my fucking God.” I said, “You have track marks.”

My heart broke.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

It took him a little while to actually admit that he had, in fact, used. At that point, I really believed that it was the first time and that it would be the last.

In true addict form, I took the initiative to educate myself on heroine, it’s chemical make-up, and the symptoms of opiate use. I also proceeded to obsess over every moment that had passed over the previous couple of weeks in a desperate attempt to put the pieces together and figure out what was really going on. This is where the insanity really began.

The month of June was a “fuck-show” of insanity, attempted but failed control, desperation, despair, broken hearts (mine and his), obsession, depression, isolation and withdrawal, confusion, frustration, powerlessness and unmanageability. As it turns out, I am, in fact, powerless over people, places, and things. Not just dope. And most of all I am powerless over someone else’s disease. All of this affected me physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually….also affecting my friendships (ultimately costing me one of my best friends), my sponsorship relationships (both with my sponsor and with my sponsees, and also ultimately costing me my former sponsor), the serenity of my household; including that of my roommates, my parents, my work, my finances.....the list included everything and everyone connected to me in anyway. I was in full blown addiction.

Addicted to him. Addicted to love. Addicted to trying to save him, to stop him, to teach him, to break him, to love him clean. None of it worked..

I tried ultimatums, crocodile tears, boundaries, rules, desperate pleas, threats. In the end, I begged him. “If you love me like you say you do, and you can’t stop using….please let me go. 'Cause I can’t let you go and this is killing me.”

Looking back on the experience from this side of it, I have immense gratitude. Gratitude for the learning experience, the spiritual brokenness and subsequent growth, the further insight into the cunning, baffling and destructive nature of my disease, the strength I have gained from the struggle, and the empathy I am now capable of…..but is it really over? Will it ever be over?

To my knowledge, he’s been clean for a few months now. Ultimately, he came to his own conclusion that he didn’t want to continue getting high. Go figure. He says he hit a spiritual bottom that he had never hit while dealing with the consequences of jails and institutions. For a while there, he was the one dragging ME to meetings, forcing ME to get outside of myself, to participate in my own recovery.

Today, I am more in love with him than ever. We have been through hell and back, and the insanity still slips in every now and again. My stomach turns when his phone vibrates. I find myself asking, “Who’s that?” I get a little nauseous when he leaves the house and I can’t be sure where he’s going or with whom. I think that, in the interest of my disease, I would be quite content keeping him in a glass box on a shelf in my home, in constant view, or implanting a GPS/camera device under his skin to record his every move…..His eyes sometimes look funny to me, and I get a little pang of discomfort when he itches any part of his body, or stays up too late, or goes to bed too early, or is too flirty, or too despondent, or too hyper or too calm…OK, so I’m still insane. But I am progressing in the right direction.

In light of all this, incredibly enough, the more I let go of control, the more I pretend to trust him, the more I have faith and hope that God has both of us firmly in His grasp, the easier it gets to accept. To trust. To love. And to let go.

And, that catch phrase that I heard at a meeting so many years ago holds true now more than ever… “If you think letting go is hard, try holding on….”

it's been a long, strange, trip...

2007-08-21T10:52:00.000-04:00

Whew...what a trip. To hell and back.

So, first, a girl falls madly in love with the last human being on earth that she should logically fall in love with. How does that work? What kind of sick, twisted destiny bullshit is that?

They say don't fall for newcomers. Okay. They say it doesn't end well. Sure. They say to just walk away. No problem.

Unfortunately, these suggestions are easier said than done. Yeah, I know. I used to say the same thing. I used to be the anti-13-stepping nazi of all anti-13-stepping nazis. Then it happened to me. Funny how different things can be when the shoe is on the other foot. Talk about humility....

Anyway...the last 6 months have been a roller coaster. Up, down. Upside-down. Loop-de-loop. De-loop, de-loop. Fuck. *sigh*

Am I still madly in love? Absolutely.
Has it all been worth it? Ask me in a year. If I'm not committed by then.

In other news...

I absolutely do not recommend allowing a surgeon to lop off six pounds of excess skin from one's body. Though it has increased my hotness exponentially...it was the worst experience of my life. Pain = beauty? Fuck that.

Trip to Cali...

2007-02-17T00:10:00.000-05:00

Just returned home from a superb trip to cali... Had a most unexpected but blessed reunion with an old kindred spirit. Enjoy the snapshots!

Death of a childhood dream...

2007-01-18T13:29:00.001-05:00

So, if you read back on my diaries from high school, you will see me close with exactly the same thing in every entry.

"..and if I could only be thin, then I could get a boyfriend, and then I would be happy."

Now I'm thin, and, much to my dismay...all of my problems are not solved. Who knew? There has been no magic *poof* followed directly by the appearance of a bowl of golden cherries. Nothing like that whatsoever, as a matter of fact.

Hmmm...

In fact, I had to spend $150 at VS yesterday on new bras because my boobs are deflating.

Livin' the dream, y'all. Livin' the dream.

Heartache

2007-01-14T17:16:00.000-05:00

It is amazing to me that no matter how well other areas of my life are going, a little heartache can throw everything off-kilter.

You see, there's something I want. Someone, to be more specific. Someone I have hurt. Someone I love.

My friend Rebecca recently put things into perspective for me. I have been bashing myself for my recent behavior concerning men in general, Committing to a year without a relationship, and beating myself up for not wanting to adhere to that commitment when it comes to a certain individual. Rebecca reminded me that it is human nature to want to be with someone. And my favorite poet, Hafiz, said that, "We are people who need love, because Love is the soul's life." *sigh*

I have blogged before about the relationship I have been for the last several months. That relationship ended a few weeks ago. Lots of things have happened over the last few weeks. Lots and lots. Most importantly, I have experienced a dramatic and intense period of spiritual growth rivaled only by the death of my Jimmy six years ago. On a side-note, these periods of spiritual growth are quite commonplace in recovery, usually directly preceded by an intensely painful experience. They are life-changing.

Anyway, back to my heartache...

So...how 'bout when you fall head-over-heels for someone within days of meeting them, go against your commitment not to get into a commitment, six weeks into the relationship you tell your mother that you have met the man you are going to marry, and then when hit the point where things get a little serious you decide that you are not deserving of the kind of love that you are being offered and begin to push that person away. As a result...the relationship falls apart.

Now, after the aforementioned spiritual awakening, you see clearly for the first time, and you have hurt the aforementioned person in such a way that it seems that it will be impossible for him to give you a second chance. And therein lies my dilemma.

I have told him that I want to be with him. I have told him that I can do things right this time. I have told him that I want to be the kind of girlfriend that I know I am capable of being. He just doesn't want to hear it.

And because of this, because of me, my heart aches. Badly.

mmm....cheeseburgers...

2007-01-14T14:23:00.000-05:00

More thoughts on weight loss surgery...

2007-01-09T15:23:00.000-05:00

Everybody has demons. Everybody has issues. Everyone has been scarred and broken and bruised emotionally if not physically. Everyone has addictive tendencies of one kind or another. People are a mess. They just are. Thing is, usually, people's private, intimate, secret skeletons are just that.

Private. Intimate. Secret.

We don't have that option. We wear our addiction on our sleeves. It is hard to be 305lbs and hide the fact that you have food issues. You can be a closet gambler, a closet drinker, a closet drugger, a closet abuser, a closet self-loather, a closet sex-addict...but it's tough to be a closet overeater.

Everybody knows. Everybody sees. Everywhere you go.

And then...when we've had enough...when we can't go on living like that anymore...we make one of the healthiest decisions we've ever made. We go to any lengths to salvage our lives. To get ourselves back. To mend our broken spirits and stop our destructive behavior.

Problem is, we can't hide that either. It is not normal to lose 160lbs in a year. It is not natural to have a scar from your sternum to your belly button. And when we go through these radical, drastic, almost unbelievable physical changes, our personal, private, intimate issues seem to be more obvious than ever.

I think it is because it is socially acceptable to comment on weight loss rather than weight gain. Nobody ever said to me, "Wow! you must have gained at least fifty pounds since the last time I saw you!" I have never heard, "My, your ass is awfully fat. Do you have trouble fitting in chairs?", or, "Boy oh boy, you are so big that you look like you could drop dead of a heart attack at any moment...how is your health?" (OK, so maybe my mother has come close to some of these comments, but with her food issues, she can be less than human at times.)

It is socially acceptable for our dramatic weight loss to be the topic of conversation at a party or a family gathering. People feel comfortable asking us personal questions about the process, about our diet and exercise, about our heath, about our clothing size.

I don't know about you, but I felt like a freak before I lost the weight. Now, on some days, I feel like a freak-show...on display for the world to gawk at.

But, you know what? Fuck 'em. All of 'em. I can crawl through the window of my house when I lock myself out today. I can walk the beach for hours. I can turn heads everywhere I go. I am not a slave to food anymore. I am not obsessed with it. Controlled by it. In love with it. I am free.

And sooner or later, people will get over it. They'll go about their daily business. They won't point or gawk or comment anymore. I'll finally be free to just be me. No more, no less. And my issues, my skeletons, my new ones, will be safely tucked away in my own closet...where they belong.

And I'll probably be thinking, "What is wrong with these people? don't they realize that I have climbed mountains? Slayed dragons? Defeated demons? I wish someone would say something."

Alone...

2007-01-09T15:05:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I have come to the conclusion that I am utterly incapable of being alone.

This is a new revelation for me, as I was never "that girl" who bounced from one relationship to the next. I was usually the single one. As a matter of fact, this past Sunday, I was asked out on a date for the very first time in my life. But I digress...

I decided to make the commitment to myself to abstain from dating for a year. I know that the healthy course of action here is for me to spend this year working my steps, gaining a better understanding of my higher power, revealing who I am; assets and liabilities, and, just overall making an effort to remove my head from my ass where intimacy is concerned.

It is not going well.

I broke off the relationship that I was in, but have not successfully stayed away from him. I am obsessed with my ex-fiance' and his new stupid girlfriend (ok, so she may not ACTUALLY be stupid, but for all intent and purposes...). I have at least five poor souls in my pocket at any given time because, as it turns out, being a hot little ticket affords me this sick-ass luxury.

*sigh*

And here's the bitch of it all....I promise you that I am NOT "THAT GIRL"! I swear to you! At least I never was.

I am educated, intelligent, fiscally responsible (much of the time), financially independent, searching, intuitive and deep.....what the fuck am I thinking? Since when have I reduced myself to existing as that woman who thinks that she cannot be without a man? Since when is my self-worth directly proportionate to the number of men who want to date me? What the fuck happened to me? How did I get here????

Alas, all I can do is continue to attempt to make healthy decisions. I suppose when the pain gets great enough...

In the mean time, I will continue focusing on my writing, my recovery, helping other addicts, my work, learning how to play my new purple guitar (which is super-rad, by the way), taking care of my babies (my animals) and enjoying life. (When I'm not obsessing about one fucking man or another.)

I am REALLY disappointed in myself. Really. I am. But, I'll keep coming back.

Serious weight loss complications...

2007-01-01T16:20:00.000-05:00

I knew going into this thing that there would be a risk of serious complications. I was informed that this surgery could result in medical complications ranging from blockages to vitamin deficiencies to death. I knew that there were risks. Serious risks. I knew that everything would change. They told me that things would be different, better. I prepared myself for a "new life". I wasn't confused about the fact that I was entering uncharted territory. What I didn't know... What I couldn't know... What I never prepared for... Was the fact that I feel as if I am walking around in someone else's body. On a different planet, even. I didn't know that one potential complication of this surgery was that it would not only change my body, mind and spirit, but that it would change the way the girl in the check-out lane acknowledged me. I didn't know that a stranger's glance and even mannerisms would be different. That men look at me in a manner strange to me, speak to me in a way I've never been spoken to. That women would place me in a new category, and treat me in a different way. That when children who I don't even know approached me, they would have a different look in their eyes, say things I'm not used to hearing. How I'm treated by my friends, by my family, by people who knew me then and people who are just meeting me now....that none of it would be the same. None of it would be comfortable. None of it would feel safe. I didn't know what it feels like to be objectified. To be treated as a thing rather than as a human being. To be treated as a potential sex partner instead of a friend. To be looked at instead of looked around or through. I had no idea that there would be expectations. That people would expect me to say or do or act a certain way just because of what I look like on the outside. Somehow, I thought that for the first time in my life, I could be freed from the bondage of always being aware of what I "look like". I could not have been more wrong. A serious complication of my weight loss surgery has been that one minute I was morbidly obese and the next minute I am what society deems as "attractive". And everything has changed. You see, society doesn't treat the former the same as the latter. And what it seems that everyone is missing...the part that they just don't get...is that it's just me in here. And it always was.

A day in the life of fear and self sabotage.

2006-11-05T23:54:00.000-05:00

Change still terrifies me. And I have learned in recovery NOT to live in fear, but to live in faith. But when you are slapped in the face with a situation beyond your control, it is easier to resign to the fear.

I find myself walking alone today for the first time in several months.

The end of a relationship. The beginning of a new chapter. Complete with hope, anticipation, freedom, sadness, and fear.

So, why the hell am I so sad and afraid? I saw this coming a mile away. Hell, I was only procrastinating ending it myself. So why am I so sad now that he's gone?

I am not in control of this situation. That is what is at the heart of it. I cannot manipulate or rationalize or intellectualize myself out of this one. I gotta feel my way through this one.

I never intended to end up in this relationship to begin with, and once I was in it, I always had one foot out the door. But now that it's over, I find myself questioning what I felt and what I didn't feel for him. As it was with Jimmy, who died six years ago this past Friday, I didn't really know how much I loved him until he was gone.

But Jimmy died on me. This one I pushed away.

Happy Halloween

2006-11-01T00:31:00.002-05:00

Some snaps from my home group's annual Halloween party....

Me with the ever-lovely Will...

Just me...

The hot and sexy punk-girl Beth, and me...

My good friends Molly and Christina (and me)...

Stolen

2006-09-12T11:42:00.000-04:00

I stole this, my new favorite blinkie, from a friend. Thanks, Michelle.

Oh no she didn't...

2006-09-12T00:52:00.000-04:00

Yes she did.

Do it Anyway

2006-09-06T23:10:00.000-04:00

DO IT ANYWAY
Written By Mother Teresa

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, People may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

Back into the swing of things.

2006-08-22T09:12:00.000-04:00

It's been a long, strange haitus...

2006-08-22T08:59:00.000-04:00

Ok...I know, I know. I've been a little busy. But I'm back now. I'm settled into my new home and have lots of goings-on to report. More later, gators...

Some new pics of the ever-shrinking me...

2006-06-13T16:20:00.000-04:00

a few more...

2006-06-13T16:10:00.000-04:00

Ham of God

2006-05-29T13:04:00.000-04:00

I wanted to share part of an essay out of the book I'm currently reading. The book is Plan B Further Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott. She is my favorite author. If you have never read her, I highly recommend it. She is bright, edgy, funny, spiritual and in recovery to boot!

"Ham of God"

On my forty-ninth birthday, I decided that all of life was hopeless, and I would eat myself to death. These are desert days. Better to go out by our own hands than to endure slow death by scolding at the hands of the Bush administration. However, after a second cup of coffee, I realized that I couldn't kill myself that morning - not because it was my birthday but because I'd promised to get arrested the next day. I had been arrested three weeks earlier with an ecumenical bunch of religious peaceniks, people who still believe in Dr. King and Ghandi. Also, my back was out. I didn't want to die in crone mode. Plus, there was no food in the house. So I took a long, hot shower instead and began another day of being gloated to death.

Everyone I know has been devastated by Bush's presidency and, in particular,m our country's heroic military activities overseas. I can usually manage a crabby hope that there is meaning in mess and pain, that more will be revealed, and that truth and beauty will somehow win out in the end. But I'd been struggling as my birthday approached. So much had been stolen from us by Bush, from the very beginning of his reign, and especially since he went to war in Iraq. I wake up some mornings pinned to the bed by centrifugal sadness and frustration. A friend called to wish me Happy Birthday, and I remembered something she'd said many years ago, while reading a Vanity Fair article about Hitler's affair with his niece. "I have had it with Hitler," Peggy said vehemently, throwing the magazine to the floor. And I'd had it with Bush.

Why I'm Still in Michigan...

2006-05-25T10:39:00.000-04:00

OK, there are a couple of other reasons as well....
But these were taken during my tri-weekly stroll on the beach earlier this week. (click the photos to enlarge)

*sigh*

I run. I'm a runner. No shit.

2006-05-21T20:36:00.000-04:00

So, I am training for a 5K. OK, stop laughing. I'm serious. It's in August, and no...I'm not gonna walk it.

Why, you ask? Because I can, that's why. Because I can run because my feet don't hurt. And I can breath and my knees aren't shot and my back can take it. And because I couldn't say any of these things a year ago.

In order to hold myself accountable, my friend, trainer and running partner told me that I am supposed to shout to the world that I am training for a 5K.

Brand new things are afoot, my friends. A new lifestyle, a new season, a new physical me.....

Oh, and I just might be falling in love....

I'd forgotten..

2006-05-15T11:39:00.000-04:00

What it was like to float... To walk without touching the ground, to fly. I'd forgotten what it was like to stare... into another's past, present, and future. What it feels like to just be. And also what it feels like to fall, so God, be with me as I close my eyes, heart in tow, and jump....just a little....

Quote of the Day

2006-05-10T09:51:00.000-04:00

"our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

our deepest fear is that we are powerful~

BEYOND MEASURE.

it is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.

we ask ourselves, who am i to be

brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

actually, who are you NOT to be??

you are a child of god.

your playing small does not serve the world,

there is nothing enlightening about shrinking

so that other people wont feel unsure around you.

we are born to make manifest the glory of god that is within us.

it is not just in some of us.

IT IS IN EVERYONE.

as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously

give other people permission to do the same.

as we are liberated from our own fear,

our presence automatically liberates others..."
~Nelson Mandela

Insert Chimp Vocalizations Here....

2006-05-05T08:40:00.000-04:00

Quote of the Day

2006-05-01T07:37:00.000-04:00

Anyone who says that sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain. ~Author Unknown

All things new...

2006-04-30T13:18:00.000-04:00

I love spring. I love all the seasons. I can't imagine living in a part of the world where the seasons weren't so visibly represented in nature.

Overwhelmed with gratitude for nature lately, I have found myself pondering the parallels within the weather, my life and my faith. Life is truly a progression of seasons. As the weather begins to warm up and the rain begins to quench the earth's thirst, all things become new. The end of some things becomes the beginning of others. The leaves and creatures that fell last fall become the bread that feeds the earth in the spring. As they decay, new life is created. God closes some doors and opens others. He's good like that.

I find myself in new, uncharted territory in my life. I like that. Things for me have been so tainted with sameness and monotony for so long that any little bit of change in my life feels so radical and freeing. And frightening. But I am loving every second of it.

I am getting to know a new side of myself that I have never had the pleasure of meeting before. A new independent and to some extent even confident "me". This is an inner transformation that seems to have been spurred by outward, physical changes. I am not confused about that...to say otherwise would not be truthful. But I am glad that the changes are happening deeper than my skin.

I am more happy, joyous and free than I have ever been. I feel alive. I have seemingly endless energy, optimism, gratitude and intrigue. I am living again. With this living comes good decisions and bad decisions, but they are all a part of the journey. The good and the bad are what are making this trip worth while. God has made all things new. He is transforming the landscape around me, as well as the landscape within me. He is using the decay of my past to create new life in me. He is closing doors and opening new ones. He is guiding me to mold myself more and more into the person He created me to be. A person who is more like Him.

So, as I persevere along this uncharted path, part traveler, part navigator, partly lost and partly found...I go by faith alone. And, let me tell you, my friends, this has been one hell of a blow-your-hair-back-screaming-roller-coaster of a ride. And I wouldn't change one second of it. Not for anything.

Impeach the Monkey

2006-04-26T10:00:00.000-04:00

Please do yourself and the rest of us a favor; click on this link and sign the petition....for the love of God.

click here to impeach the monkey

Quote of the Day

2006-04-24T16:49:00.000-04:00

It is so small a thing
To have enjoyed the sun
To have lived light in the spring
To have loved, to have thought, to have done...

~Matthew Arnold

Character Defects Abound...

2006-04-24T07:54:00.000-04:00

Yes, my friends, that is me...the jerk. I seem to be making a lot of mistakes lately. Testing my boundaries, being too sassy, pushing things just a little too far, and guarding my heart at the expense of others.

Last night, in an attempt to be sarcastic, charming and witty (yeah right, get over yourself Lizzie) I offended someone. Someone who is just getting to know me. Someone who's company I actually enjoy. Someone who I thought I should protect myself from. Someone who is now disappointed in me.

It had appeared that I had pigeon-holed this person. Judged this person. Labeled this person. Classified this person as a "typical guy". The truth is that I think he is anything but the "typical guy", but as I am learning, it is easy for me to miscommunication my intentions....especially online.

Ok, big deal, right? He'll get over it. Except for one thing...I was judging him. I was pigeon-holing him. And I did label him. And I know better. And I got called out on my shit.

He told me that he was disappointed because of all people, I was claiming to work a program of recovery and he would have expected more from me because of that (paraphrasing). Ouch. The truth hurts.

You see, part of my program of recovery is to "practice these principles in ALL my affairs". Even the romantic ones. And I haven't been. I wasn't being open-minded. I wasn't practicing faith or acceptance. And I sure as shit wasn't surrendering.

See that's the thing, my friends....practicing these principles in all my affairs means not judging people. Having faith that they just might not be out to fuck me over. Surrendering control of situations and accepting those situations for what they really are. Hmmph. Sounds easy enough.

You see, my friends, unfortunately, I am discovering that my heart is guarded. Didn't really think it was. Seems that I'm not willing to be so quick to give it away this time around. I'm being a little more cautious, a little more picky, and unfortunately, a little more jaded. Yes, folks, I said it. Jaded. And I used to be someone who always saw the good in people. What happened? Life happened, I guess.

People lied. People cheated. People used. People left. People died.

But some people loved. And I guess it's just easier to forget the good stuff.

31, single, and jaded. Not a good combination.

For now, I will suck it up, apologize one last time, hope for the best, and try to be a little less cynical....just for today.

Food for thought...

2006-04-22T18:55:00.000-04:00

unrealistic expectations...

2006-04-21T23:12:00.000-04:00

You know, the program tells us not to place unrealistic expectations on people. I find more and more that to place any expectations on anyone is to be unrealistic. It seems that whatever I think I know about someone, whether new to my life or old, is often way off. This is not a bad thing. It is just the progression of my realization that I do not, in fact, know everything and also the fact that I am rarely, if ever, in control of anything.

I have had two particular experiences over the last few days that illustrated this perfectly. Both times, I couldn't really have been more wrong about the person. One was a very negative experience, and one a delightfully positive experience.

Once I was almost freakishly disappointed by my total lack of insight and judgment, and the other I was pleasantly surprised at my misconception.

People never cease to amaze and surprise me. And this coming from someone who used to proclaim that people were incapable of surprising me. I couldn't have been more wrong.

I am learning, more and more, that the less expectations I put on people, the easier it is to accept and love them for who they are, where they're at. As a friend and sister in recovery put it so well at a recent speaker meeting; on the topic of humility, if I took into consideration a persons' experience and their character defects as well as their strengths...I would probably do exactly whatever it is that they do or say in any given situation. To truly accept that is to accept one for who they are and where they are at.

And for today, I'll keep coming back...and work on my humility.

It's just me...

2006-04-19T18:24:00.000-04:00

I would just like to announce to the world that in exactly three pounds, I will be down 100 pounds!!!!!!!

I can hardly believe it.

My friends, I cannot express to you what it is like to feel healthy, light on my feet, happy, sexy and confident for the first time in....well, possibly forever. I feel like me.

This has not been an easy road, by any means...but a road well worth the travel. Many people ask me...would you do it again? Hell yes I would. In a friggin' heartbeat.

I don't think that people fully grasp what it is like to be extremely heavy. There is the physical pain and discomfort, yes. The health problems, some humiliating. But for me it was the things that couldn't necessarily be touched that were killing me; the way a stranger would look at me, the way I would have to ask for a different chair when I went out to eat with my friends because I no longer fit into the regular ones, the way I was incapable of looking anyone in the eye because of the shame over my "condition", the way I knew society as a whole viewed me, and most of all, the way I felt more alone than ever before in my life. I truly, like I did in my drug addiction, believed down to the bottom of my soul that nobody understood what I was going through.

I wish that I had found www.obesityhelp.com years ago. It is such a tremendous support group and wealth of information for those who struggle with obesity. It has been a similar force in my life to NA.

Anyway, just felt a little like shouting out from the mountain tops today.

God is good. He really is.

What kind of soul am I? (quiz results)

2006-04-16T22:23:00.000-04:00

You Are a Hunter Soul

You are driven and ambitious - totally self motiviated to succeedActively working to acheive what you want, you are skillful in many areas.You are a natural predator with strong instincts ... and more than a little demanding.You are creative, energetic, and an extremely powerful force.
An outdoors person, you like animals and relate to them better than people.You tend to have an explosive personality, but also a good sense of humor.People sometimes see you as arrogant or a know it all.You tend to be a bit of a loner, though you hate to be alone.
Souls you are most compatible with: Seeker Soul and Peacemaker Soul

What'>http://www.blogthings.com/whatkindofsoulareyouquiz/">What Kind of Soul Are You?

Happy Easter

2006-04-15T19:31:00.000-04:00

The Art of Assumption

2006-04-10T22:02:00.000-04:00

What is it about us addicts that we have to live in our heads all the time. We are told never to go up there without proper adult supervision, yet we do it anyway. And we don't do anything but get into trouble up there. I made a stupid assumption this weekend, and made a fool out of myself as a result. A therapist once told me that to assume anything is to make an ass out of u and me. Boy...you can say that again. What an asshole I am. The problem is that for an addict who is still trying to conquer her control freak issues, I feel the need to be in the know about everything. If there is something that is beyond my perception, then it makes me feel out of control. I hate to feel out of control. A lesson learned. Chalk it up to life experience.

just for today...I will work on jumping to silly conclusions, for my own mental health and well being.

2006-04-10T07:54:00.000-04:00

I miss my cats...

2006-04-08T19:18:00.000-04:00

So, I have physical custody of my dog...but my cats are still with my ex. We agreed that I would take two and he would take two. Serenity and My Widdow Guy will be coming to live with me in the ghetto. I won't bring them until they have had a full course of Feline Leukemia vaccines due to the fact that, as outdoor cats, they will be exposed to the community ghetto kitties at my apartment complex. Three more weeks.

Even though I am the sole custodial parent of the Nana Belle, she does go to stay with Kevin on the nights that I work at the rehab. Tonight was one of those nights. I decided, in light of the gorgeous day, that I would walk her over there instead of driving. It's only a few miles one way. So I did. And half-way back, I turned around and saw that My Widdow Guy was following me home. Um, talk about breaking my friggin' heart.

I had to walk him back to the house. I miss my kitties.

On a lighter note, I saw three different male eastern bluebirds during my trek today. One of my favorite Michigan birds!

The baby girl...could she be any cuter???

2006-04-06T12:48:00.000-04:00

quote of the day

2006-04-06T12:16:00.000-04:00

Truth is the only safe ground to stand on. ~Elizabeth Cady Stanton

the disease of addiction...

2006-04-06T12:12:00.000-04:00

on secrets...

2006-04-06T11:14:00.000-04:00

Our secrets keep us sick. Resentments rot the container they're in. Two unrelated catch phrases often heard in recovery.

I propose that they are one in the same. I propose that our secrets are actually resentments turned inward. Things over which we have so much shame, that we feel that we deserve to allow these things to rot us from the inside out. And they do. Slowly, but surely.

What is it about addicts that we choose to hurt ourselves. Why is it that when we act like ADDICTS, we feel so different and shameful that we can't imagine anyone actually accepting us for who we really are, secrets and all. And why is it that we have such a hard time acknowledging that we all feel like this at one time or another.

I propose that shame keeps addicts using. Whatever that shame may be, it takes on the illusion that it is too much to bear, too much to share. I propose that we have actually seen addicts die from shame.

We have a disease of lies. A disease that tells us that we are not allowed to be imperfect. That we are not allowed to fall short. And that, when we do, we must not tell anyone about it, for they will surely run as far and as fast as they can. A disease of lies. A disease of shame.

I, for one, will not allow the shame and lies of my addiction to kill me today...just for today.

For Miss Molly. Look carefully...

2006-04-02T22:51:00.000-04:00

The real terrorist threat...

2006-04-02T15:53:00.000-04:00

Reflections of the newly single...

2006-04-02T15:35:00.000-04:00

So, how does one go about this whole "being single" and "dating" thing??? Hell if I know.

I have officially had two online conversations with prospective friends/etc... one good and one bad. And I mean really bad. Details are irrelevant, but for a moment, I wondered if all men out there are such caustic, control freaking, dull, closed-minded assholes. That is until I spoke with prospect #2 (to steal Michelle's dating language). He seems a little more down to earth, laid back, intelligent, and introspective than Jackass non-prospect #1.

I am pretty sure I made about as much of a fool out of myself as I possibly could during the course of our conversation last night, and as a result, I am mortified...but it was a good learning experience if nothing else.

Though I refrain from much of what I want to spew, I seem to feel this constant need to explain away myself and my life. I guess I feel like I am so weighed down with baggage, that I couldn't possibly be a realistic prospect to any man worth dating. I mean, a thirty-something, recovering addict, former fat chick who, let's face it, is never gonna have a baby-smooth, tight, six-pack or a slammin' ass - It's just no longer in the cards for me. My life is far from "normal" and far from "boring".....or is it??? I'm so hard on myself.

I seem to be quick to forget all that I do have to offer. Despite my baggage, I am a quick-witted, educated and strong woman, who for the most part, has her shit together. I can be loving and kind, fearless and searching, and on top of it all, I can cook. Who am I trying to convince? Obviously me.

It was brought to my attention last night that we ALL are in one type of recovery or another. So, why am I so unique? I suppose EVERYBODY who is "out there" has baggage. And the whole point is to find someone who is intrigued by the "whole package"....body, mind, spirit AND baggage.

Right?

2006-03-31T10:51:00.000-05:00

Why I live in the ghetto...

2006-03-30T13:37:00.000-05:00

So, my apartment complex may be a little ghetto, but the reason I picked this place to live is because of the wide open spaces adjacent to my building. I walk my dog daily over there, and today I remembered to bring my camera. Keep in mind that I know NOTHING about photography!

Winter sleeps!

2006-03-29T22:20:00.000-05:00

And today I heard the first spring peepers singing!

mmmmm....zingers.

2006-03-29T01:08:00.000-05:00

Quote of the Day

2006-03-29T01:04:00.000-05:00

Well, spring sprang. We've had our state of grace and our little gift of sanctioned madness, courtesy of Mother Nature. Thanks, Gaia. Much obliged. I guess it's time to get back to that daily routine of living we like to call normal.

~David Assael, Northern Exposure, Spring Break, 1991

God speaks in.......birds?

2006-03-28T23:28:00.000-05:00

It may sound strange, but I believe that God has a number of ways in which he speaks to me; the whisper of a soft breeze through the tops of the trees, or just a whisper in my mind, through the words of another person, through the written word, whatever the source of that word may be, and, yes, occasionally, he speaks to me in birds.

The darkest moment of my life, the moment when two women sat me down on my couch to tell me that my beloved Jimmy was never coming home again, my world went black. Thoughts, words, feelings...they all became meaningless. There was only pain. Hot, searing, ripping, tearing pain. When I opened my eyes, there was a perfect red cardinal outside of my living room window. He was looking intently at me. He flitted from branch to branch over the next several moments, never leaving my sight and always with his gaze fixed on mine. As strange as it may sound, I found comfort in that bird. Comfort in the moment when I could not be comforted.
Looking back on it, I can say without pause that God sent me that bird.

The cedar waxwing has always been my favorite native Michigan bird. The first time I ever laid eyes on one, I was about twelve years old. After hearing that dreaded "thump" at my picture window, I raced outside, hoping that whoever had hit the window would be just stunned enough so that I could hold the wild thing gently in my hand until it regained it's wits and flew off. A cedar waxwing lay dead on the ground. I had never seen such a creature; it's feathers so fine and soft that they didn't resemble feathers at all, but rather a sort of creamy silk overlay. Almost as if it wasn't a real bird at all, but a fine wax sculpture of some imaginary bird that couldn't possibly exist because it was too perfect. Too beautiful. It laid dead in my hand with a trickle of blood coming from it's mouth and I cried. Cried because it was so beautiful, and cried because it was dead.

Immediately following, I went inside and proceeded to read my mother's birding field guide cover to cover. I found myself overwhelmed by the sheer number of breathtaking creatures existing in this world. That day began what has become a life-long passion of mine. Bird-watching continues to be a very avid, very personal, and very meditative hobby of mine. And it all started with that perfect dead cedar waxwing.

This weekend, as I moved my things into my new place, a sense of fear and despair began to overtake me. I was not home. I would have been sobbing openly, but my apartment was filled with people who had helped me move. As they began to leave, I found myself drawn to my sliding glass window. I stood there and listened....a series of high-pitched trills filled the air. As I watched, a flock of cedar waxwings made their way from deep back in the woods to the tree less than ten feet from my window.

There is no doubt in my mind that God sent me those birds.

So, for those of you who have been asking "how am I doing?", the answer is.....God is sending me birds.....how could I be anything but fine?

On a far less introspective note....the red-winged blackbirds are officially back for the warmer months.

For Todd

2006-03-23T17:32:00.000-05:00

Sweet Anticipation

2006-03-21T12:35:00.000-05:00

Only a few more days until this journey truly begins...

Most of the time I am actually giddy with excitement and anticipation. Last night, however, I got melancholy and forelorn. The sooner we are in seperate living situations, the better.

We are stuck in this sort of bittersweet purgatory, which is probably not healthy for either of us.

A funny moment yesterday, when my oldest, dearest friend Lauren suddenly transformed into my "financial advisor". She reminded me of some fundamental truths regarding this house that Kevin and I BOTH own and after some initial resentment from Kevin, he agreed to a satisfactory solution for both of us. Then he "thanked her very much for calling" (fececiously, of course).

It feels good when a nigga got your back. Lots of them, in my case. Today, I am grateful for my many niggas. Shout out.

Reality

2006-03-19T18:31:00.000-05:00

The reality of my situation is beginning to sink in. This is not necessarily a bad thing. I am reaching a point of acceptance, for now. I know that I am not alone.

I feel a purr of sadness and a little pinch of fear, but part of me is getting excited about my new little apartment. From what I understand, it is in an end unit, facing the woods and the stream and kitty corner from the 40+ acre field where I can walk my dog. I already have a bedding set picked out, and Kevin is letting me take my loveseat and ottoman that I love so much. I will trade in my piece of shit laptop that I hate for a desktop computer.

We are going to share custody of the animals. I will be taking two of the cats and he will be keeping two. The dog will come with me as he is not home near enough to take care of her. But he will have her on the weekends occasionally. My new fishtank will have to be dismantled and moved, and hopefully my fish will survive the transition.

I am staying in close contact with my sisters in recovery, and trying to stay out of my head as much as possible. There's no going back now. This is what we are doing, whether I like it or not. I am clinging to the fact that, for now, we are calling this a temporary split...probably because to call it anything else would be too terrifying.

Peace

2006-03-18T15:45:00.000-05:00

Today, I am grateful for peace. I am not spinning like I did last night. I have come to feel confident in our decision to separate. I think that this will either make or break us, but either way, I know that God's will will be done...provided that we stay out of His way and let Him work on us.

I have found an apartment, and the only real tragedy is that I have to part with my beloved Pottamus (my horse). It is killing me to have to do it, but I know that the last thing I need during this time of searching is financial stress. If I had my own farm, it would be different. But board and feed are expensive, and I know that this is what needs to be done. I have already had one prospective buyer show interest who seems like a perfect match. We'll see.

Changes. The darkness of the unknown. Fear. Faith. Uncertainty. Grief. Freedom. Hope.

Happy St. Patty's Day.

2006-03-17T23:38:00.000-05:00

Off my f@%$&*ing rocker.

2006-03-17T23:33:00.000-05:00

Ok, so today, I either had a moment of clarity, or a complete nervous breakdown. I am either in touch with my needs and emotions or I need my meds tweaked. At this point, I sit here with no fucking idea which it is.

I initiated a conversation with Kevin during which we decided to officially separate for a while, if not for good. Shortly after, a bawling, slobbering mess, I confirmed to three sisters in recovery exactly what I had just done and why. I received three different responses.
1. Saw this coming a mile away...you will be fine alone.
2. I support you no matter what.
3. Don't you think that was a bit impulsive?

OK, no clarity there. So then I called my mom. She proceeded to more or less lose her mind, more over her own powerlessness to control/fix the situation. She suggested that:
1. I am manic.
2. We wait to seperate until she heads north for the summer in May
3. We get therapy, individually and jointly.

The problems with these three suggestions is that:
1. I am not bipolar (thought I am having my doubts right now)
2. There doesn't really seem to be any turning back from here, and how do you live with someone you are separated from?
3. What do we do while we are getting therapy? Live together or live apart?

So, as of this moment, I have no idea what the fuck to do. Half of me wants to call it quits, not because we are mad at each other, not because he is a bad person, but because he is such a wonderful man and yet, I don't know if I am in love with him - 3 1/2 years into the relationship, because he deserves someone who is madly in love with him, and because I deserve the same.

My thoughts earlier where that we have become more like brother-sister or best friends than a couple. We lost our intimacy a year and a half ago, and I'll be damned if we haven't tried to find it to no avail.

I am plagued with thoughts of wanting to be free to date (GOD help me, why I would want to be back out THERE at 31 years old with MY baggage...I have NO idea!). Not really sure as to why, mostly, I think it is just that I have never really dated in my life. My life has been a series of drunken one-night-stands and two accidental relationships. I have never actually been asked out on a date.

I am plagued with questions as to what I REALLY want in this life, a new career, children, marriage, etc...and I don't really know what my stand is on any of these aforementioned issues.

I am plagued with expectations of WHO I want to spend my life with, if anybody, and the qualities I expect this person to have, and whether Kevin posesses any or all of these qualities, and again...I'm drawin' a blank.

So, in light of all this uncertainty...do I NOT want to make any rash decisions like the one I've just made? Or do I NOT want to stay in a life that I am so uncertain about? Now THAT is the question, my friends.

For now, I think I will take this sick ass and this overloaded head to bed. Thanks for letting me share, and with that, I'll pass...

Hmmm...food for thought

2006-03-16T14:37:00.000-05:00

True intimacy with another human being can only be experienced when you have found true peace within yourself.
--Angela L. Wozniak

I think this might be my problem.

2006-03-16T14:32:00.000-05:00

Howie

2006-03-15T16:01:00.000-05:00

I will now begin introducing each of my children with an introduction of Howie, the youngest of the kitties. Howie is a 6month old seal point siamese kitten, and is better known as Stupid One or The Littlest Poo-Head. Howie is named after the HOW of the NA program; Honesty, Openmindedness, and Willingness.

Commitment issues

2006-03-15T15:27:00.000-05:00

It has recently been brought to my attention that I rarely, if ever, acknowledge the fact that I am, in fact, engaged on my blog. I have also been "forgetting" to wear a ring on my ring finger, keeping in close contact with an "ex", and entertaining thoughts of having anaffair with my Chiropractor.

Upon further evaluation, it seems that I may have some commitment issues.

So, in an attempt to act my way into right thinking, here is my FIANCE'...... Kevin.

Solutions

2006-03-15T15:05:00.000-05:00

So, there comes a point in everybody's recovery when they can begin to recognize the problems which had been previously masked in denial, rationalization and dishonesty. It is a major accomplishment and indication of growth when these certain things, be they behaviors or obsessions, cause that not-so-comfy feeling in our gut and we know that we are a little (or a lot) off kilter. To begin to have negative gut reactions to negative thoughts or behaviors is a major milestone in recovery.

Now, further down the line, there comes a time when that negative gut reaction to that obsession or behavior is followed by an equally unpleasant feeling if we do not SEEK OUT AND ACT on a SOLUTION to whatever that problem might be. Let me explain.

For me, it was ENOUGH, for a while, that I had developed the ability to recognize when I was acting in conflict with my morals and values and/or entertaining an obsession, because the mere act of recognizing my unhealthy thoughts or behaviors was such tremendous growth. Recognition is no longer sufficient for my recovery today. If I do not begin to seek out solutions to avoid the patterns, then I am not in recovery today. It's do or die time, y'all. Do or die. Time to take that plunge into the unknown. And I am scared shitless.

Freedom Rants...

2006-03-12T19:02:00.000-05:00

I'd like to take a moment to plug my friend Randy. His new blog is entitled Freedom Rants. It is probing, raw, brave, honest and reflective...not to mention an entertaining read.

What is my message?

2006-03-12T19:01:00.000-05:00

I ended up having to find a replacement to speak at our latest Narcotics Anonymous event due to circumstances beyond my control, and to say that I wasn't a little (OK, a lot) relieved would be a lie.

I have been sharing at meetings for the last 3 1/2 years, so what is it about being the "speaker" at an event that has me so worked up? I have been freaking about this all month, this 30 minutes of "carrying my message" to my fellow addicts....what is the problem?

Well, first of all, I have been the main speaker at exactly 1 meeting thus far and to say that it was an utter disaster would be minimizing the situation. I basically went through every detail of my using life until the chairperson pointed at his watch and I said, "and then I got clean and my life is better now."

UGH!!!

I guess my biggest struggle is identifying the answer to the question...what is my message???

I'm an addict, that part is clear enough. I am a woman in recovery...again, obvious. Dysfunctional past, self-esteem issues, codependent...blah, blah, blah. Heard it before. What makes my story MINE?? I am not your typical "low bottom" addict as I understand a "low bottom" addict to be...i.e. needles, prison, prostitution, homelessness....so what makes my story worth telling?

I am going to have to ponder this question and get back to you.

An old favorite of mine

2006-03-12T11:20:00.000-05:00

Monkey

2006-03-12T11:19:00.000-05:00

Monkey

2006-03-10T13:32:00.000-05:00

Far be it from me to rub salt in any monkey's wound, but it appears as if even the other monkeys have removed their rose-colored glasses...

click here

Quote of the day

2006-03-08T00:00:00.000-05:00

And the day came, when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom ~Anais Nin

Gratitude list.

2006-03-06T14:39:00.000-05:00

Ok, Todd...here you go.
I have gratitude, today, for the following:

1. My friends
2. The program of Narcotics Anonymous
3. God, as I understand him
4. The fact that my belly is officially smaller than my ass
5. My recovery and my meetings
6. My sponsor (I promise I will call her any day now...)
7. My genetically inferior dog who has more maintenance fees than a Yugo
8. My relationships with my parents today
9. My relationship with my maternal grandparents
10. My health
11. The fact that I am down to 1 ass instead of two (one top ass and one bottom ass)
12. The fact that I only have one set of breasts and they are in the front of my body
13. Breyers sugar free double churned vanilla ice cream
14. Strawberries
15. Coffee
16. Green olives
17. My romantic relationship (and Kevin too. That was a joke.)
18. My mom's recovery
19. My new fish tank that I haven't gotten yet.
20. blogging.

Hormones anyone???

2006-03-06T14:34:00.000-05:00

Without being too graphic, let me just say that I have come to the official recognition that my hormones and my disease of addiction have gone into business together. They have started a committee better known as the "fuck-Lizzie-up-committee" and they have their board meeting in my head, once a month, for approximately five days. I have heard rumors that they will be going public soon, so if anyone would like to buy into the "fuck-Lizzie-up-committee", please contact the president of the board at 1-800-bite-me.

Forelorn

2006-03-05T23:58:00.000-05:00

So, here's my excuse for being such a big, fat blog-slacker. I have been in a lousey place this week. Just a real shitty place. No particular reason, though that whole woman thing and the fact that when I went dress shopping the other day, I felt like an overstuffed bag of shit...but other than that, I don't have any real reason to complain.

I have to speak at our NA event this weekend. I don't wanna. I got nothing. Nothing to share, nothing to say, nothing to give. If I were my sponsor, I'd tell me to make a graitude list. And maybe if I actually called my sponsor, that's what she'd tell me to do.

I believe it is officially time for "Project Get Your Fat Ass off the Pity Pot!"

Maybe I'll write a gratitude list after all.

First thing tomorrow.

Lurkers???

2006-03-05T23:24:00.000-05:00

Hmmmm....it seems that I have a lurker in Wayland, MI. I know only one person from Wayland....is that who I think it is??? If so, pray tell, make yourself known!!!! Call me for goodness sakes!

Is it just me?

2006-03-02T17:58:00.000-05:00

US ready to sell advanced arms to India

Is it just me or does anyone else have this wierd feeling that we'll all be speaking Chinese in a few years???

Just a thought.

untitled (title not necessary)

2006-02-28T15:33:00.000-05:00

My very own blinkie...

2006-02-28T15:13:00.000-05:00

Michelle made me my own blinkie. I feel so special!
Michelle, I forgive you for calling my horse a "cow".

Bad joke.

2006-02-27T17:13:00.000-05:00

The CIA had an opening for an assassin. After all of the background checks, interviews, and testing were done there were three finalists: two men and one woman. For the final test, the CIA agents took one of the men to a large metal door and handed him a gun.

"We must know that you will follow your instructions, no matter what the circumstances. Inside this room you will find your wife sitting in a chair. You have to kill her."

The first man said, "You can't be serious. I could never shoot my wife!"

The agent replies, "Then you're not the right man for this job."

The second man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. All was quiet for about five minutes.

Then the agent came out with tears in his eyes. "I tried, but I can't kill my wife." The agent replies, "You don't have what it takes. Take your wife and go home."

Finally, it was the woman's turn. Only she was told to kill her husband. She took the gun and went into the room. Shots were heard, one after another. They heard screaming, crashing, banging on the walls. After a few minutes, all was quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the woman. She wiped the sweat from her brow and said, "You guys didn't tell me the gun was loaded with blanks. So I had to beat him to death with the chair."

Thanks, but you may be a little off...

2006-02-27T16:57:00.000-05:00

So, for those of you who participated in my Johari Window and said such nice things about me, would your opinion change if you knew that I was a reality TV whore??? Complex? Intellegent? Not so sure about that.

Poetry in motion

2006-02-26T20:52:00.000-05:00

My dear friend Anne has started her very own blog. Go check out "Addict, Bipolar, Beautiful, Freak" to read her story and her poetry. (Not that there is much of a difference in the two. Her story IS poetry).

Rock on, Cold Clammy Annie!

Humor me

2006-02-26T17:20:00.000-05:00

Hey, those of you who know me, and those of you who don't, but follow my blog....indulge me and click here.

Quote of the Day

2006-02-25T23:56:00.000-05:00

The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet.
~James Oppenheim

She's a smart one!

2006-02-24T17:29:00.000-05:00

So, Kevin accompanied me to the barn today in order to lift some heavy things (that's about the only time I allow him into my serene horse world) and Pottamus, the big black and white Yak, true to form, put on the cutie-patootie mask and followed him around like a puppy dog.

Hmmmm....I have to wonder if she knows that when she does that, she ensures her place in my life......

I'd just like to take a moment....

2006-02-24T01:08:00.000-05:00

...to ponder how we got stuck with that jackass, monkey of a president. I sure as hell didn't vote for him.

(Dad, this one's for you...)

Anywhere but here...

2006-02-24T00:28:00.000-05:00

I never thought I'd be so thankful to be somewhere I never dreamed I'd be.

An addict, recovering, one day at a time. So blessed. An answer to the question I'd always asked, "Who are you and what are you doing here?" and a solution to the life-long problem that was me.

The Hell and Pain, such a perfect stepping-off point, for the greatest moments of my life.

I never once, in all the dozens of diaries I kept as a girl, predicted this would be where I'd end up. What a long, strange trip it's been. Thank God for unanswered prayers, potholes and detours.

If I could choose, from all the places in all the world, I'd choose this place.

A meeting, a family, a home.

Regrets

2006-02-22T23:37:00.000-05:00

Another blast from the past. Here was a good-bye letter I wrote to my late Jimmy when I had a little over 100 days clean. I am so thankful that I am in a more serene place today.

Dearest Jimmy,
I can't change the past. No matter how much I want to go back there. I can't. I have to accept that. I have to accept that I was the person that I was then and I cannot change that. You are dead. I cannot make you alive so that I can make amends to you. I know that it would be more convenient for me if that were the case. It would be more convenient for me if you didn't get your fucking head blown off in the prime of your life and at the height of my addiction so that my selfish self-centered ass wouldn't have to be sitting here two years later worried about how you wasted the last three and a half years of your beautiful life with some sorry piece of shit that wrote such horrible things about you just a few short months before you died. I said in the pages of my journal that I never loved you. That I just wanted out. That you embarrassed me. That I wasn't attracted to you. That we never touched or kissed - that there was no love there anymore. I don't remember that, baby. I don't remember writing such hateful things. I'm so fucking sorry. I was so sick. I was the embarrassment - and still, still you didn't leave me. I wasn't functioning at all and still you loved me. Things got better just before you died, didn't they? I can hardly remember...it's been so long. I can remember just a week or two of us getting along really well - almost like a blessing. Things were really bad there for a while, for a long time, but I feel like right before you left - those last two weeks or so, we had a really good time, didn't we? At Maureen's wedding, at the Halloween party, the day before you died when you stopped by at lunch to say goodbye and do your happy dance...what a fucking blessing. I mean a blessing straight from God. But, before that...the shit I put you through. I am so ashamed. My behavior was inexcusable. I held you to bullshit standards. I expected you to be 100% honest with me and then I was dishonest as hell. I tried to control you and manipulate you and change you into someone you could never be...never stopping for one second to simply enjoy the person you were. Inexcusable. I don't understand how you put up with me. Why did you? Why, baby? I don't understand. Where you afraid that I would die without you? Did you feel sorry for me? Did you feel trapped? Did you think that I would someday get better? I have so many unanswered questions. So many unresolved issues. Do I just let them go? Do I just accept that that chapter of my life will just have to go unfinished? No closure? But I have a writer's mind. I can't just leave a chapter unfinished.....can I?

Nana Belle

2006-02-22T13:42:00.000-05:00

BEHOLD!!! Another double-nookie trance.

She got a chicken-nookie from Gammy for Valentine's day. Thanks Gammy.

Quote of the day

2006-02-22T13:36:00.000-05:00

Suffering and joy teach us, if we allow them, how to make the leap of empathy, which transports us into the soul and heart of another person. ln those transparent moments we know other people's joys and sorrows, and we care about their concerns as if they were our own.
~Fritz Williams

Suffering love...

2006-02-22T12:46:00.000-05:00

A dear friend is going through a hefty dose of "life on life's terms". I hear her saying that she feels alone because of the specifics of her current struggle. I can relate. I have often felt like nobody could possibly understand what I go through with one struggle or another, because my struggles are so personal and specific to me. My favorite book is Lament for a Son by Nicholas Wolterstorff. It was written in response to the death of his son. It reads like a journal of his experience and follows him from despair to hope. He comes to terms with suffering during his process, and not just his suffering, but the commonality in all human suffering.

He writes:
We are one in suffering. Some are wealthy, some bright; some athletic, some admired. But we all suffer. For we all prize and love and in this present existence of ours, prizing and loving yield suffering. Love in our world is suffering love. Some do not suffer much, though, for they do not love much. Suffering is for the loving. If I hadn't loved him, there wouldn't be this agony.
This, said Jesus, is the command of the Holy One: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." In commanding us to love, God invites us to suffer.
pg 89

The one who does not see God's suffering does not see his love. God is suffering love. So suffering is down at the center of things, deep down where the meaning is. Suffering is the meaning of our world.
For Love is the meaning. And Love suffers. The tears of God are the meaning of history.
pg 90

Suffering is the shout of "No" by one's whole existence to that over which one suffers - the shout of "No" by nerves and gut and gland and heart to pain, to death, to injustice, to depression, to hunger, to humiliation, to bondage, to abandonment. And sometimes, when the cry is intense, there emerges a radiance which elsewhere seldom appears: a glow of courage, of love, of insight, of selflessness, of faith. In that radiance we see best what humanity was meant to be.
pg 96

In the valley of suffering, despair and bitterness are brewed. But there also character is made. The valley of suffering is the vale of soul-making.
pg 97

In all our afflictions he is afflicted,
and the angel of his presence saves us;
in his love and pity he redeems us;
he lifts us up and carries us all our days. Isaiah 63:9

He bears our griefs and carries our sorrows;
by his wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:4, 5

I've watched her learn how to fly...

2006-02-21T19:11:00.000-05:00

I crawled into my first day of rehab scared out of my mind. I sat at the end of the table next to a girl. In her eyes I saw more pain than I'd seen since I had looked in the mirror that morning. I could tell that she'd crawled in here too.

Her dark hair was tangled and pulled back and she fidgeted with an unlit cigarette and a lighter. There was no smoking inside. Break was two hours away.

She asked me, "Why are you here?" I told her, "Because I can't breath anymore." For a split second, her eyes softened.

We held onto each other for dear life. Two lost souls, desperate, afraid, shattered and determined. We were NOT going back to where we came from. And we didn't. And there were days that I made it through just because I told her I would. And she did the same.

We're still here. Holding onto each other for dear life. But we don't crawl anymore. We fly.

Quote of the day

2006-02-19T19:27:00.000-05:00

When you have come to the end of all the light that you have, and you must take a step into the darkness of the unknown, believe that one of two things will happen.
Either there will be something solid for you to stand on,
or you will be taught how to fly. ~unknown

Never alone, never again...

2006-02-18T23:20:00.000-05:00

Having just returned from our NA group's Valentine's Dance, I thought I would post some pics for Todd! You were missed, love!!!

David and Amanda

Rebecca and Michelle

Some hot, sexy lady and Pope

Amanda, some hot, sexy lady...and Michelle i.e. Three hot, sexy ladies...

Michelle and Pope

Lindsay and MB

Will and Christina

Jeff and Pamela

Jeff, John, Brad and Jim

Christina and MB

Tina and Nolan

Some hot, sexy lady and Anne

Brad, Elton and Eric

P.S. Michelle, I have had these photos copywritten, but would be happy to let you use them on your blog for a small fee....let me know and I will email you the contract.

A blast from the past

2006-02-17T22:01:00.000-05:00

I just spent the evening reading some old journaling and EARLY stepwork. We're talking like 90 days clean stuff. What a TRIP! Here is an old favorite of mine.

Written 10/18/02 at 3 months and 15 days clean

Who am I?

It seems such a simple question..."Who am I?"...I say the words out loud, "Who am I?" My lips form the words, but they hesitate. "Who am I?" These words bring fear to my mind and to my heart. Why? Again...it seems like such a simple question. "Who am I?" After 28 years, shouldn't I have some idea of who I am? Haven't I answered this question dozens of times before? Hell, thousands of times? But what have I said? How have I defined myself?

The reality sinks in. My stomach twists and turns and sickens. My body aches as the fog lifts. I have answered this question thousands of times in the past. I have defined myself over and over and over again. But I have twisted the words of the question to read not, "Who am I?" but rather, "Who do you want me to be?"

Are you a caretaker? Are you looking fore someone who is lost and vulnerable? In need of being rescued? I can be that. I am a sad little girl, abandoned by her father, neglected by her mother. Showered with material posessions to overcompensate for the love she never recieved. Abandoned over and over again by the only man who was supposed to love her unconditionally. He was too busy. Too wrapped up in his fantasy life of women and music and money and power. Too busy to stop and love his only daughter. Too caught up in the fast life to tell his little girl that she was good enough or smart enough or pretty enough to deserve love from a man, so she grew up thinking that she wasn't good enough or smart enough or pretty enough to deserve love from a man. I am that sad and desperately lonely little girl if you want to be the person to show me that I deserve to be loved.

And I'm a victim. If you'd rather abuse me, that's just fine too. I've been emotionally battered in the past so that's nothing new to me. I can take it. Dish some more out on me - I can play that game. I'm strong, I won't be broken. In fact, there's a part of me that feels that I deserve it - I even thrive on it - or else I wouldn't come back for more again and again in my life. If you're looking for a friend to fuck over, I'm your girl. If you want to pretend to fall in love with me and then stomp the shit out of me...that works too. I can play your victim. That role suits me just fine. I can manipulate that situation to work in my favor just as well as any other. I have tested it over time. I thrive on the chaos. Ya, it hurts...but I love it just the same. I'm a sick bitch and I'll keep coming back for more. I like pain. I know pain.

I'm a widow. I knew love once, though I wasn't aware of it at the time. I found a person who loved me in spite of me. I tried to push him away with everything that was in me. I tried everything. I just didn't have the strength to walk away. He wasn't perfect. Nobody is. But he loved me. I'll say it again. He loved me in spite of me. At that time in my life, for those four years, that was who I was. I was the woman Jimmy loved. And I wanted to run as far and as fast from that as I could. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't want to run from him. He was the only man who has ever really loved me, and I didn't want it. I didn't feel that I deserved it. I couldn't handle it. And God took him away. One morning, one split second and he was gone. Just like that. He died and the only love I ever had in my life up and vanished. I am the woman who lost her first love, her only love, in a horrible tragic accident, before she ever even knew what love was. I can be that tragic love story if you want me to be.

But there's more to me than tragedy.

I've grown sick and tired of my own shit over the years. Most of the time, I'd rather save you from your problems. Do you need a counselor? A best friend? A mother figure? I'm your girl. I will listen for hours. And I don't mean just sit there and stare blankly and nod - I will fucking listen. I want to know who you are. I want to go where you've been. I want to feel the things you've felt. Take me with you on your past journeys. I'll stay up all night with you and listen, listen, listen. I truly want to hear your story. Because, you see, it takes me out of myslef. For a moment, I can be you, and then I don't have to be me. I want to get inside your head...I don't necessarily need to mess around with what's up there, not all the time...but if I'm in your head then I don't have to be in mine. So take me with you. Let me come along for the ride. I'll be whoever you want me to be. If you want me to laugh with you, we'll laugh. If you need somebody to cry with, we'll cry together - rest assured...no bullshit. They're real tears. I have reserves. Or if you just want to crawl into my lap like a child and stay a while, you can do that too. I will hold you as long as you need to be held. I can be strong for you. The way nobody was strong for me. It makes me feel good to be strong for you. Because that's who I can be for you. I can be strong.

I have more love and gentleness and kindness and compassion in me than most people have ever seen. At least that is what I would have you believe if that's what you want to see in me. In reality, I am empty. Not capable of receiving love so how can I give it away? But I'll try. I'll drain what little bit of myself I do have until I'm dry to the bone...just to please you. Just to make you smile. Just to make you feel warm and fuzzy and safe for a moment. Because all I have ever wanted to be is nothing more or less than that loving woman, compassionate, gentle and kind to all of God's creatures, even though I've never had the capability to do that. You just say the word and I will kill myself to be that for you.

I can save the world, too. I will devote ten years of my life to studying Biology because that's what I think the world needs me to do. Just because the world needs saving. The forests are dying and the planet is sick so I will put my own needs aside and save the world. Never mind that I am sick and I can't finish a class to save my life becuase I'm high all the time...I'll be damned if I'm going to drop out of school - Hell No! I'm a college student because that's what they tell me I should be. I'm too "bright" and too "gifted" to go without a college degree so damnit, that's what I'll be for ten years. When asked about what I'll do with this degree, if and when I ever actually complete it, I can give a very convincing answer about how I will passionately seek to change the world. And I mean it when I say it. I am not being at all dishonest. I truly would like to single-handedly end rainforest destruction and heal the planet, but deep down, I know that first I need to heal myself. But I will lose myself in my quest to save the world as long as I don't have to look at me.

I could go on and on giving answers to the question, "What do you want me to be?" but that was not the question I set out to answer. The one I set out to answer was "Who am I?" Who am I when I am alone in a room? When there is no one there, either in the flesh or in my head. Who am I when I don't have a glass pipe to my lips or a pen in my hands or the TV on or music playing or a book open or a pill in my mouth or a drink in my fist or my past or my future on my mind? Who am I when it is just me in the here and now and nothing else, when I am not trying to be the sad, desperately lonely little girl or the victim or the widow or the counselor or the best friend or the mother figure or the loving and compassionate woman or the savior of the world...Who am I when I am just myself?

The truth is that I am all of these things and none of these things. I am so much more than all that, and so much less. I am full of fear, but I have more courage and strentgh in me than I ever thought possible. I have pain, but there is also a great capacity for joy that I am just beginning to scratch the surface of. And there is an ability to give and receive love that I don't fully understand yet, but I know it's there. And if I stay clean, I might be able to tap into it someday. There is good in me. And there is evil.

When it comes down to it, I need to have the willingness to be able to admit that I don't know who I am today. And that's OK. I need to admit that without too much fear. I can't be so afraid of it that I'm not willing to face up to it and head fearlesssly down the path of self-discovery, as rocky as it may prove to be. I believe that the NA program will give me a greater understanding of who I am. And, just for today, I am not afraid to ask the question "Who am I?", even if I do not yet have all the answers.

Quote of the day

2006-02-12T20:28:00.000-05:00

I wouldn't mind dying in a plane crash. It'd be a good way to go. I don't want to die in my sleep, or of old age, or OD...I want to feel what it's like. I want to taste it, hear it, smell it. Death is only going to happen to you once; I don't want to miss it. ~Jim Morrison

Fallen Sister

2006-02-12T18:31:00.000-05:00

We lost another sister today. Another addict who didn't make it. Her name was Mendy and she made the choice to use one more, and her body was found this morning. She made the choice to leave treatment on Monday with her tax return check in hand and today she is dead.

I don't know what is more tragic; the fact that she died or the fact that she died knowing that there is a better way of life out there. Mendy quit five minutes before the miracle happened.

As the people at that other fellowship told me, there, but by the grace of God, go I. As the speaker at the NA convention last weekend shared, she gave us the ultimate Twelfth step. Our Twelfth step reads, "Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to addicts, and to practice these principles in all our affairs." She gave her life so someone else doesn't have to. She carried the message that we have a choice today. We have the freedom to choose life today.

In the world of addiction, to choose to use is to choose death. Our Basic Text tells us that, "For us, to use is to die, often in more ways than one." I know that I was in a state of decay when I got clean. I had been dead inside for years and I was slowly rotting from the inside out. It was only a matter of time before I would have disappeared from life all together.

In the rooms of Narcotics Anonymous, I found hope. I found freedom from active addiction. I found a relationship with the God of my understanding. I found a family. I found joy. I found freedom from the bondage of self. I found LIFE.

And just think, if I'da used, I'da missed the whole thing.

And Just for today....
I choose LIFE.

Quote of the day

2006-02-11T00:23:00.000-05:00

Character is made by many acts; it may be lost by a single one. ~Anonymous

Old behavior...

2006-02-10T23:44:00.000-05:00

They say this is a program of progress, not perfection. So I am not supposed to beat myself up when I backslide into a tornado of my old behavior. Hmmph.

Today, I misinterpreted what somebody said to me (via email) and proceeded to bitch-slap this person (via email) in a terribly sharp and not-nice manner. Not only that, but I stewed about it for about an hour and a half. I thought I was farther along than this. I have, in my past, had a pattern of always assuming the worst and blowing up on people left and right. But that behavior was just that...in the past. Today has been an off day, i.e. up in my head about the whole job thing, feeling under par physically and I took it out on an innocent stranger. That's not OK. I made amends, but I am still disturbed by my wreckless behavior. It is amazing how quickly we can revert back to our old ways when we are not feeling spiritually fit.

Also, I am planning on returning my new jeans in a couple of weeks because I am shrinking so fast that they are already loose on me. Is that wrong?

Just for today... In true addict form, I will practice these principles in most of my affairs, provided that I don't need to return jeans that I have already worn for a smaller size.

Movin' on up...

2006-02-09T17:39:00.000-05:00

I thought that I would take this opportunity to announce a business venture that I intend to embark on in the near future with my, as of right now, unaware but surely persuadable sponsee, Michelle. As I expect our little company (which will be started sometime soon) to experience record-breaking sales during our first quarter, I (we) intend to go public at some point. I thought that I would give my "blog minions" (as it where...all 2 of you) the heads up on this rare financial opportunity (this isn't "insider trading", is it?).
Oh yes, my sweet minions, I'm movin' on up, and I would love nothing better than to take
you with me.

I will keep you posted.

Just for today...
I will focus on the reality of all situations, not the fantasy, and stay in the moment.

My new favorite babies...

2006-02-09T11:30:00.000-05:00

My oldest gal pal, Lauren, aka Lola, had twin girls just about a year ago. I FINALLY got my sorry ass into Chi-town to see them.

May I present the world's cutest twin girls......
Jordyn and Abagail Marks