I was at a meeting one night not too long ago, and a woman shared a story about a dog study she once heard about. I doubt it's a true story, but the lesson rang loud and clear for me. I'll do my best to summarize in my own words what she shared that evening:
My girlfriend texted me one night last week asking for my help in praying for her grandmother who had dementia and was missing. The city's police ground and helicopter officers were all searching yet hadn't been able to locate her.
Part of my mission is to align myself with other individuals who seek to share their own stories to fight back against the shame and stigma that society tends to place on addicts, and Ryan Hampton is one of those people. If you aren't familiar with him, he is sort of a ROCK STAR in the recovery world.
It's never easy to say goodbye, but I know you would want it this way, so we have made the call. Today will be the last day we get to scratch your ears, kiss your nose, hear your pant, and see your sweet face.
Did you know I am currently a guest columnist for The Jupiter Courier Newsweekly and online at TCPalm? I have a series running on ADDICTION, where each month I write...
When I had my first daughter, I was so anxious and worried all the time. I didn't have the confidence as a mother yet, and focused a lot of energy on getting her into a routine. I stressed whether I was doing "it right," and each day felt like a such a blur. Now with my second just two weeks old, I'm already realizing how different it is. She's teaching me a lot!
It hit me. Finally. Why I've been afraid to mother this entire time. Why I have been afraid to love or care or be responsible for something- from conception, to birth and beyond.
While I love to indulge in all the typical holiday festivities, and tend to make a celebration out of anything, I draw the line with the Easter bunny. Well not him/her personally... just hear me out.
Yes, I am an alcoholic. And yes, I own a bar.
Some of my friends recently have asked how I manage, what it's like, what it was like... So I thought I would write and address any lingering curiosities.
It's as if a seed of searching for happiness is planted in us at a young age.
"Do what makes you happy."
"As long as she/he makes you happy."
"Don't worry, BE HAPPY!"
You know what I say now?
Screw happiness.
I envy women who have sisters. I really do. There's something about a woman who has one. You can just tell.
As a care taker by nature, it's often hard for me to ask for or receive help. It triggers feelings of incompetence, unworthiness, and guilt.
With Valentine's Day upon us, I struggle with the sensitive and gooshy side it brings out in some people. The day filled with random love quotes and perfectly edited photos, all adorned with fancy gifts and boxes of chocolates, well quite honestly, makes me uncomfortable. Here's my take on ROMANCE.
I cannot tell you how many times it's been said to me since I've been sober. My sweet friends, loving family members, and good hearted individuals all wanting the best for me.
As if the holiday season isn't stressful enough, right before Christmas time our main living room tv went out. (Insert pandamonia, anxiety, and "holy shit I forgot to DVR RHOC!") It had been coming for quite some time, as on occasion the sound or picture would break up.
I hate hugging. In fact, I hate anyone within arms length of me. I'm not joking. It's as if I have this imaginary bubble around me that I don't want to share with anyone else.
I've been struggling this past week with some anxiety. Primarily at night, when I begin to slow and settle, and my thoughts can race.
Hubby went out one night with a friend so I decided to curl up with takeout and find a good documentary to watch. I came across The Minimalist.
My mom did her best trying to raise us kids in a Catholic Church, but I never knew an intimate relationship with God through the memorization of prayers in CCD class, nor did I ever understand a message the foreign Priest would share on Sundays through his battered and broken English (bless his heart, he sure did try).
I'm learning to love myself more, by sharing myself with you. That's the beauty in the ashes, the silencing of the shame. It happens amidst the share, not in spite of it.
