Heya, Monster.

A SoberBlog by a TallWoman.

Archive for the month “July, 2015”

Belle’s 100-Day Sober Challenge…

Is a-happenin’!



I mean, it was happening 50+ days ago, but now it is legit. Stamped. Signed. Sealed. Delivered. I’m yoooooours! (Sorry, the song took over my body and brain there.)

So, yep. Over half-way already. CoolCool, as my French friends like to say (but their mouths are always so much more beautiful when they make the ‘uuu’ sound – distinctly French, I believe (Tres jealous)). And then, I suppose I will just slide on over to my Solstice-to-Solstice Challenge, which will also conveniently be over halfway accomplished. I’m such an evil genius. Bwahhahaha!

Day 52, you’re worth 2 posts today, because Awesome.*

AA …. Okay.

Alright, so. I’ve been super-hesitant to commit to an AA group/meeting/schedule/program because (and some of you have mentioned this yourselves) of the whole God-thing. I’m still not a huge fan of it, especially with one of the groups I shadow every once in awhile – they are bible-thumping, verse-quoting zealots. Not my bag.

However, in spite of my hesitancy, I have shopped around a little and visited four different meetings/groups on several occasions in the past six weeks in order to keep people’s faces near me. People in sobriety. Real live, living, breathing human beings. I love the blogworld – I love it to pieces, but I also know I can isolate (Who?! Me?! Miss Set-Myself-In-My-Living-Room-Chugging-Wine-For-4-Straight-Years?)… Ahem… Yeah…. So thus my goal of staying physically connected to people in the Real World.

And do you know? I had a beautiful experience yesterday.

I arrived back at a Thursday morning meeting in Suburbia after two weeks away, and was greeted immediately with smiles and kindness. I’ve mentioned this group before as being made up of almost all women, and almost all of those women are older than me – 50 years old and older. These women have years decades of sobriety, and they are so generous with their spirits. You can tell they’ve been around one another a long time. They are comfortable and relaxed, and they laugh a lot. So good.

So. Just a jaunt back in time to when I was getting ready to tell my people about my sobriety… That day, I decided I was going to hit an AA meeting to be in the presence of other alcoholics, and to give me strength to make the phone calls. It was my first time to the suburban group and to their meeting. I sat next to a chic woman in her early 60s (I would guess). She was grounded and kind, welcoming. She exuded strength and confidence. She didn’t take things for granted – all this I felt by just sitting next to her. Yow.

Well, as that first meeting went forward, I shared with the group that I was going to tell my family and friend that I was thirty days sober. I got teared up and choked up as I voiced my fears and worries, and the Woman next to me handed me a tissue. The meeting went on.

At the end of the hour, the Woman turned to me and said in the kindest voice, ‘Your phone calls are going to go great. Your family sounds supportive and loving. They will be happy to hear your news. You’re strong and ready, and remember, you carry all of us with you. We’ll all be thinking of you.’

And even though I received many hugs and encouraging words after that, her words were what I clung to and held onto and remembered.

So, now back to yesterday and my second AA meeting with this group… I was anticipating and looking forward to this near-stranger who had made such an impact on me. I walked in the room with the leader of the day’s meeting, and it began as soon as we sat down. I spied my Woman and smiled at her (and others), but didn’t have a chance to say anything.

In the first five minutes, there was an invitation to share any news, and my Woman raised her hand. Her voice was strong and grounded as it was before, but this time, her news shook me. She announced to the group that she had been diagnosed with lung cancer the week before. She wanted the group to know in case she was in and out for the coming months. She was positive and courageous and brave. She said a number of times that she was going to fight this, and that she was more worried for her husband than for herself. She asked us to pray for him even more than for herself. She made a joke about never smoking a cigarette in her whole life, and now here she is with lung cancer. She even said she was grateful to have an answer to a persistent cough she’s been suffering from, as well as so much fatigue…

Gah. Just struck to my core.

And sad.

I don’t even know Her, and yet she made such a beautiful mark on my life. On the way to the meeting, I was flirting with the idea that if she was present, perhaps I would ask her to be my sponsor, but now. Too much.

I loved what her current sponsee said to Her in the course of the meeting, that She has given so much to others and now it was Her turn to take. And wasn’t it beautiful how the cycle of service and reaching outside of one’s self can help in one’s own recovery, and look to see what a difference She has made in her sponsee’s life. There were tears in her sponsee’s eyes, which made me want to cry with her, and the Woman just reached out a hand and calmly held her sponsee’s hand for a moment. Truly beautiful.

And the whole meeting was like that. From the heart. Honest. Raw. Reflective. Inspired by the reading/the tenet of the day regarding service to others, as well as acceptance and not making it all about Me.

I was so moved, that I committed and bought myself a copy of the Big Book. I know in my heart of hearts, that having read some of it before, I do not love it, nor do I know if I will commit to the twelve steps, however, I am moved and inspired by those in the program. I am inspired by their words and lives and by their reflections on what the Big Book’s words to mean to them. I find beauty in their lives and in their journeys, and I know I will continue to return because of them.

Day 52, thanks and thanks, and ever thanks.


My First Real Punch.

Right to the chin.

It came from out of nowhere.

Or, at least I wasn’t expecting or anticipating it in anyway.


Last night, my (wonderful, extraordinary) mother-in-law invited us over for roast beast. Delisch. Amazing meal. As always.

The hubs and I were trying to get the babes fed quickly so that we could pile into the car and get to a movie across town. I was in the middle of loading up the babes’ plates before everyone else went through the line, and just as I was finishing them up, my MIL asked me if I could open a bottle of wine for her and her other guests (a couple who is dear friends of the family).

I froze for a second. My heart stopped. All of the usual cliche in-the-moment sorts of things….

The layer of skin just under my skin flared up into full-on itch-mode. My breathing quickened, and my mind started to spin around a cloudy mass of grey… No real thoughts or words, but just a feeling jumble of everything and nothing all at once. I was disoriented and shaky.

I reached for the bottle and the opener, opened it quickly, kept my eyes averted and did not offer to help get down wine glasses, and then went back to the plates.

The moment was over.

But I was still itchy and spinning.

I brought the babes’ plates to the table, dished myself a plate as quickly as possible, and then sat down and ate – again, quickly.

The friend and MIL had their glasses there… And I caught myself being more aware of them than I had been of alcoholic beverages at the bar this past week or two. I know it’s because of opening the bottle myself. … It wasn’t a trigger, but it did strike up a huge feeling of loss. The fact that I wasn’t opening the bottle for myself. That I wasn’t going to pour or drink any of it. It wasn’t a longing loss… It was … How do I put it? It brought my sobriety into stark contrast to What Used to Be. …. And honestly, had it been ‘Then,’ I would have had three glasses to their one, and hoped they wouldn’t notice how much I drank. I would have been happy, but guilty and nervous most of the evening. We definitely would not be taking the babes to a movie, because I most likely would want to head home where I could open a second bottle of wine, or dive further into an already-opened box and drink until I fell asleep or passed out. … In actuality, the sober punch was and is a better situation than what was – by far. I was just completely thrown for a loop.

I got to thinking, later, that if I had been hosting at my own house, I would have prepared for the moment, and would have opened the bottle without that screeching halt of all mental and physical goings on. But because I was caught off-guard, I got knocked off my feet. I know I can be around alcohol and people drinking without much issue, as I’ve done it four or five times in the past two weeks, but again. Surprise!

Oh, and let me point out my first reaction was to put my head down and charge through the moment, as opposed to looking around and asking for help from the hubs or something. What, me ask for help? Definitely not my first instinct, as is obvious by this situation… Must work on that. Thought I was getting better at it, but reflex-wise, definitely not. Putting that on my to-do list….

So. There you are. I wanted to share.

Talking to the hubs on our way to the theatre, I mentioned to him still feeling itchy about it all, and he said he’d wondered if I was going to be alright. He started speaking for his mom, and I told him I wasn’t mad at her at all. Not even a little. Just surprised. And again, itchy, which I am beginning to think is my physical association anytime I am significantly uncomfortable mentally. Add to the fact my MIL has significant arthritis in her thumbs and wrists, and that I was the one closest, and that (in days gone by) I am the one who knows my way blind-folded and upside-down with hands tied behind my back around a wine caddy, I get why she asked me to help. Again, just surprised. Since I’ve stopped drinking, it just hasn’t been present at family meals, which is crazy to think, because we would go through at least four bottles a week together in days of yore. I assumed she wasn’t going to drink last night, and then she did. Heck, even her friend was surprised I wasn’t drinking and said something about it. I just blew it off like some easy, breezy, carefree flippant thing, and all was fine with that.

But the bottle.

The cork.

The action of opening the bottle.

I was thrown.

…. I’m better now. Reliving a bit of last night in writing this out, but also think it’s too important to skip over. Being the ‘feeling’ person I am, I have a bit of the itch back from last night, but once I get going for the day, I’m sure it will dissipate pretty quickly. The babes and I are off for a nature hike, and I am looking forward to that very much.

Day 50, still full of surprises…

p.s. Halfway to 100!!! *flex*


Good ‘morrow, fair Internettians.

I’ve begun a ‘movement’ (of one thus far) on the Twitterverse… #alcoholnotincluded ….. I think it’s fun. It’s playful. And? It’s awesome to think, ‘Fuck yeah, I’m doing this!’ (i.e. Empowering) I would love for You and You and You to join me in it. The great thing in Sobriety is that absolutely everything is included under the title. Hee. I wake-up? #alcoholnotincluded I get shit done at work? #alcoholnotincluded I kiss my husband? #alcoholnotincluded I chase my kids? #alcoholnotincluded I mow the lawn, power wash the carpets, weed the gardens, and dig up a few mega-cement garden blocks all before dinner? Yeah… #alcoholnotincluded (That was yesterday, p.s.) It’s great. And I like catchy little jingly phrases like that, so? Funsies. Join me, cool cats. p.p.s. My Twitter – @heyamonster (Please note, I’m not super-prolific as I don’t quite understand the whole twitting world just yet, but I’m finding my wings, slowly but surely….)

Then, I made mention to abbiegirl about drinking NA beer a few times here and there when I’ve been out with friends or family. The first night I had two, because it was kind of an automatic to want More, but then the next day I realized I was just wasting calories. Since I wasn’t actually drinking for a buzz, and rather it was more for the taste, the next two times I was out, I only had one NA beer and then switched to water the rest of the time. abbiegirl was kind enough to advise me about a study done in 2011, or thereabouts, regarding the dangers of NA beer and alcoholism. I found a summary of it here, and think it’s rather interesting. A few other articles I surfed around on mentioned the same study, but they used more inflammatory language, so that’s why I chose the article I did. What are your thoughts, World?

I have to say I’m torn. I see the basis of the study. Intellectually, I get it. But emotionally? And even physically, I just like the taste of a beer once in a while. I’ve been hyper-vigilant that they actually serve me the NA variety (I prefer St. Pauli or Becks to O’Douls), and as I said, drink it for the taste rather than the effect. A huge step, I think. I know my purpose is to not get drunk, or even slightly altered. If I only drink an NA beer every once in awhile, am I really flirting with disaster, or am I conscious enough of the potential dangers that I will be okay? Hrm. Frustrating because Science…. Sometimes our innate selves just take over. Perhaps if I find myself looking forward to an NA beer, or thinking of it as a reward, then I would definitely stop it right away. But as it stands now? It doesn’t feel like a problem. What are your experiences/in-put?

And my PSA for the day… I have discovered my new favorite drink. Target’s Market Pantry Brand Sparkling Water!

My new thang...

My new thang…

In fact, I loaded up on bottles of it yesterday (approximately ten), because I’ve been drinking it so much in the evening. The best things about it? 1. It’s delicious, and A. It’s cheap! Like super-cheap. Like less than a 20 oz. bottle of soda cheap. The other day it was on sale for $.52, and regularly it sells for $.69. And I think you get a liter! Sheesh. Great deal. I’m not sure if you can get it outside of the States, but if you can, give it a try…. It comes in several yummy flavors, such as ….

  • (My aforementioned fave) Cherry Limeade
  • Peach Mango (Another delisch combo)
  • Fuji Apple
  • Tangerine Lime
  • Raspberry Blackberry
  • Strawberry Lemonade
  • Pomegranate Cherry

So, there you go. I need to make my way through all of the kinds, but yuuuuum. I really like it at night when my stomach just wants some bubbles. Hits the spot.

Alright, there you go. I’m off to corral the children for a little while longer before we take them to see the Minions movie. My feminist hackles are up, though, because of the first movie… It will be ridiculous (good), but I am always looking for ‘lessons’ being transmitted to my babes subconsciously, which I then must shed light on. … Man, being an adult is workworkwork, isn’t it? *smile*

Day 49, Almost half-way to 100!

Mind Messes Follow-Up

Hello, all Awesome People Everywhere.* Thank you for your thoughtful responses regarding yesterday’s post. As I said in my comment to Your comments, everything was Good.

So. Here’s the rub…

Friday, parents went to see one of my shows. Great night. Beautiful outside. Cast was awesome. Music was awesome. Audience was awesome. Parents loved it (which was awesome). It was all, you guessed it, awesome. But? Because of the babes not napping, we didn’t have a chance to go out and hash out the show, life, etc. It’s usually our tradition to do so, so I was feeling a little off-kilter because of that.

Then, the next morning, my parents came over for breakfast. Love-ily. Delicious. Sweet. The babes were in top form – adorable, funny, silly, playing with Grandma & Grandpa. We talked about the show from the previous night, and also a bit about what to expect from the second show they would see that coming night. For me, as I had mentioned before, I was feeling ‘itchy.’ I felt like there was that elephant in the room, or rather there was an elephant in My Room… I believe I said it was dancing the can-can? … Yes. I failed to mention the elephant’s pink top hat and feather boa. C’est chic.


After breakfast, we went out shopping per my mother’s request. The outing didn’t really provide an opportunity for us to talk about my sobriety, except for my mom buying me some super-cute palazzo pants on sale ($16, regular $60! (Nice!)). She made a joke about all of my ‘rewards,’ and just said she was proud of me. Very nice. Very kind. But not really a conversation.

So, then. We went our separate ways for a couple of hours, and met up back at the second show. … It was god-awful. Seriously. I was so frustrated. Last week the cast had had this brilliant, amazing, so-funny show, and this week it was just flat. As a pancake. As a floor. As a day-old, opened bottle of Cherry Coke. Yuck. FlatFlatFlat. It wasn’t completely the cast’s fault – the weather (it’s outdoor theatre) was atrocious and hothothot, and humid and sticky and still. Gah. No breeze. Nothing. Plus? It gets better (that was sarcasm)… It was the biggest house of the season thus far (200 people!) And we were filming for a local TV station. Gah. Punch me in the head. So bad. I could barely watch. Everyone was slogging up hill as best they could, but it was just Bad. … And I had theatre friends in the audience who had never seen my direction before, and I am still mortified by what they saw. I had daydreamed they would ooze and gush about how awesome it was, and that they would want to hire me on the spot for a part of their coming season, but nope. No way! Not this time around. My anxiety about this/the show/what was is still so high. …. And that‘s the show my parents saw. Blech.

So. The three of us did get to go out afterwards, while the hubs took our babes home to bed. That was nice. They were nice, as parents are. They said it was good and they could tell it was a tough show, but that it was still really enjoyable and that no one would notice or know it wasn’t our best. … In other words, they were my parents. *smile* Very nice. Very kind.

Just before our food arrived, my head had that yearning to start The Conversation. And after a couple of false starts, I dove in and just said, ‘I just want to say thank you so much for being so wonderful on the phone when I called a couple of weeks ago. It meant so much to me, and it was really special.’ And they both were great, and my dad said something to the effect of wondering when we would talk about my sobriety, and wondering if I wanted to, to which I responded, ‘Yes!’ And then he joked and said (which I think one of you also joked), ‘Well, we’ll follow you. You’ll have to lead us on this one.’ …. And I did! And it wasn’t a lot, but it was enough, and it was the next step in what was needed. I talked about where I was mentally when I decided I needed to stop drinking – that I was exhausted and frustrated and starting to put too much importance in the bottle(s) of wine I would have every night. I talked about drinking being a Reward for my sucky, adult life, but that I didn’t realize how hard the drinking was actually making the rest of my life. I talked about my perfectionism and trying to do everything to the nth degree in spite of nursing a hangover most days. … They were both great and awesome. My mom said she didn’t know how I juggled everything, regardless of the alcohol. And I made some joke about doing it all in only twelve hours, because the other four or five hours every night, I was busy drinking and rewarding myself for getting it all done. … I also told them how I was just grasping every second to stay on top of it all, or at least to stay in line with it all. I reiterated how tired I was, and how, Now, I feel so good. So rested. So much less frantic. Yes, I’m still busy, but I feel like I can Breathe. …. And they both said they could tell a huge difference. That I seem so much better. That I seem like myself (my dad said). I look better. They said they see a calmness in me (in Me?! I still don’t quite get that one. *smile*)… A centeredness…. All good things.

And then our food came, and we moved onto other topics.

Tuh-dah! Wonderful news. Wonderful moment. The convo wasn’t overly important or heavy. It felt Just Right, to steal a phrase from Goldilocks. … And now? We have an opening for next time if we want to go down that road again. It was beautiful. No judgment. Just love and acceptance and support. …. I feel like I say it so often on this blog, but I am So Lucky. Truly. Truly Lucky.

Day 47, thank you.*

Mind Messes

So far, so good.

My parents are here and things are going well. We’ve spent most of today together, which has been mostly nice. I feel my nerves getting a bit frayed due to the fact of too many like-people together in one space. … Do you know what I mean? I believe when two people are too similar, it actually causes more trouble, than if they are quite different. My mother and I are near identical as far as I can tell, and so. I am feeling a bit testy. … And my dad, who is usually pretty go-with-the-flow when we’re all together at their house, gets a little owly because of all the QFT (Quality Family Time). Well, that and not being able to duck out for a minute or two when he wants or needs the space.

With all this family dynamism, I am noticing the hubs being a gold-star player. He’s got my back a number of times, has helped out incredibly with the babes, and is just a yes-man in all ways. Very sweet. Very generous.

In the back of my mind, even though we’ve been together mostly during daytime hours, I have to admit feeling itchy just under my skin. We’ve talked a teeny bit here and there about my sobriety, and that has been great. My dad asked me how it’s going (I mentioned that yesterday), and my mom told me today how proud she is of me. And it feels nice to have ‘it’ all out and easy in the open, and yet. And yet…. I don’t know. Am I stressed because we usually go out after my shows and have a beer/wine and talk about the performance? We didn’t do that last night because the babes didn’t have a nap and needed to go straight to bed (i.e. 10:30 pm – Gah!). Am I stressed simply because I get stressed when my parents are here because I want them to be happy and feel calm and easygoing about the visit, and like they don’t have to worry about a thing, and look at me – their completely capable, nimble-minded, totally-awesome daughter anticipating all of their needs? I don’t do that. Ever. Usually we just coast along and figure out our day as we go…. And so often our days look the same as the ones we had together the last time they visited. …. Am I wishing we were just a bit more glamorous? Probably. Do I wish we did more things like festivals in parks and free art exhibits and walks in nature centers, even when it is in the 90s and not really the best day to do such things? Yes I do wish all those things.

Whose life am I comparing mine to?

Underneath all this tension, which comes with every visit, I have this niggling feeling of alcohol and …. something. I don’t know. …. Would I like to have a drink with them? Well, yes. Of course. I wish I could have a drink with anyone. But I can’t. I know I’m not a normal drinker. Not going to do that. …. Am I feeling self-conscious about this being the first time in front of them I’m actually me and sober? Yes. Definitely. …And I wonder why about that, too, because I am the best I’ve been in quite some time. Being in front of them, I expect, should feel love-ily, but I am feeling self-conscious…. Like there’s something on my nose or face and I can’t see it, but everyone else can. … Am I just projecting? Am I the one with the pseudo-problem? Probably. … I just can’t let go of the idea that there is this gigantic elephant in the room with us and everyone else is walking around it and pretending not to see it, resting their coffee cup on its knee even, and then there’s me shining my spotlight on it, setting off fireworks, and doing the can-can with it. (It’s a very talented elephant.) … But it’s all in my head of course. Seriously. The amount of time we have talked about my sobriety has totaled less than one minute. Less than sixty seconds.

Oh, dear lord.

Do I Want to talk about my sobriety with them?! Is that what all this is?! All this itchy-feeling-under-my-skin-stuff? …. Gah. I think it is. I want to hash it all out. I want to be honest with them more. I want to hear what they’re thinking. I want to really just talk it all out and get to the heart of it all. … Why couldn’t these thoughts happen first? …. My body is so weird sometimes!

Oh, Blog. Okay, um, thank you. You’ve set me straight yet again. Even just realizing what is under this tension has let my shoulders drop at least three inches. Maybe five. … I guess I do want to talk about it. With my parents. In person. …. So, okay. I will try and find the time for that tonight after the show. … Okay. We’ll see if it works out. If not? Back-up plan will be to talk with them when I go home for a visit with the babes in two weeks. I can wait that long, if need be. … Phew. Okay. Done and done … Planning, anyway. *smile*

Now time for another show.

Two side notes: 1. I am getting antsy to get to 60 days. This week I kind of lost track, but now that I realize where I am again, I would like the 6-0 to get here a bit faster. 2. I am reading Mrs. D Is Going Without and I am truly loving it. Her words and her directness are so engaging and reaffirming to my own experiences – even those prior to quitting alcohol. So many similarities. Grateful I found her.

Alright, the end. Ciao, Blogopolitans.*

Day 46, you sneaky devil.

Adventures in Companying.


It’s been a week to say the least. All good on the sober front. Happy and incredibly productive. I’ve been spending long days at the theatre away from my fan, so that has been stressful, but? The good news is the show opened yesterday and was received very well. I had some surprise guests, which made my night, as well as some familiar faces there to cheer on the cast and crew. Huh-zah! Huh-zazz! Huh-zee!

Yesterday with most of my ducks in a row, I decided I was going to be the most awesome of awesomest moms in the world and dote on my children’s every word, and give them All the attention, and love them up to bits and bits. Reality? I sat in front of my computer for three hours, zoned out on sober blogs, the HuffPost, and random shopping websites, and just browsed and browsed and browsed. My poor babes. *smile* But it was so necessary! I never remember, every single show I do, when it’s all up and ready to go, I just get knocked over. Completely. Absolutely no energy to do Anything. Nada. Zilch. Zip. Nein. …. So that was my yesterday until I got my butt off the chair cushion, dropped the babes off, and then cleaned our costume room for three and a half hours. Still. Mom of the Year Award? Not it. … Again.

So, today is a little better. Met a friend for breakfast (an ex-bf’s mom to be exact), and caught up with her a bit while trying to wrangle the crazy babes who wouldn’t sit still, shut-up, or eat their breakfasts. Being a mom/parent is a little tricky sometimes, isn’t it?

Then, we cruised home so that I could clean our house, which has been sadly neglected these past two weeks, in order to get ready for my parents to come to town. They arrived this afternoon. Naps were skipped. Visiting was done. Babes were adorable. And now? My parents are coming to my show tonight, and to my other show tomorrow. Very nice. Wonderful in fact.

The only thing? It’s my first visit with them sober. Whoa!

So? Things are going okay. We have already talked about it a teeny bit. My dad asked me how things were going. I told him ‘very well.’ And now? Well… I won’t have time to go out after the show tonight because of said children not napping, so that is one stressor off. But then tomorrow? I mean, we’ll be fine. I will be fine. I just find myself missing it a little – the drinking – because it’s how we would chill out. You know, like most families everywhere in the world….

So, yeah. My parents aren’t the physical stressor. I think it’s just my mind and my habit of associating drinking with their visits. …. It’s all me, in other words. *smile*

Day 45, I’ve missed you People!*

Life Stuff.

Sitting here waiting for my sweet boyo to finish his lunch and to finish his episode of Dora. So dang cute the way he shouts back to the program. I love that he feels engaged and I love the way he engages so freely.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be 2 years old again?

That freedom. That whole range of emotion without filter (okay, maybe I can still relate to that one…). I love his sincerity – even when he is sincerely pushing every single one of my buttons simultaneously. I love his whole-heartedness. I even love his bull-headedness and the way he screams to show me when that is his current state of mind. I love his sweetness and the way he cuddles his kitties/babies. I love the way he changes his voice to play so many different roles – sometimes high and flutey, other times low, gruff, and monstery (he is my son after all *smile*). I love the way he sings in pitch and remembers words from songs I don’t even know. I love his wiggle dances, and his completely unabashed bravery as he goes for Every Thing. I love the way he hugs me tight and says, ‘I love you.’ I love his sigh when he is happy. I love that he is completely his own … I am merely the lucky satellite who gets to orbit his world.

Now, because this is a blog, and because it is my blog, and because I am a person and people tend to be self-involved, I am going to make this about me…. Even though I could sit and think about my boyo’s sweet everythings all day…

This past month and a little, I am slowly finding my own brave moments. I am finding ways to be honest even when I am not quite sure it is entirely safe. I am learning to use my voice and say or do what I feel like doing. … I am much less people-pleasey than I had been when I was drinking. I am feeling more confident and happy, even if the angry and grouchy bits are showing more regularly.

I am enjoying this journey. … And especially because it’s summer, I think it is making the whole transition that much more enjoyable. Even though Time used to automatically encourage me to reach for a glass of wine or a beer, I am now finding that it is just nice to have Time and to enjoy it for what it is. *lesigh* Content. … I am feeling that more than I ever have in my life, I think.

A few dorky-life things?

I am trying to actually use the groceries in my fridge and cupboards, so that has been a fun challenge. And it feels so rewarding to open up the fridge and see such beautiful, colorful food! Yum! Connected to this, I am trying to curb my coffee-spending …. slightly. So I’ve started this (again) dorky thing. I take my extra coffee from the morning and pour it into ice cube trays. Then, in the afternoons or early evenings before my rehearsals, I fill up my to-go cup with tons of coffee-cubes, and then pour some of that new ready-made latte yumminess from Starbucks or Caribou over it all. It took almost a week to use my first bottle, and I think I made at least seven drinks out of it. Awesome! And yum!

Another thing, slightly connected with bipolarismness, I am buying a few too many fun things lately – especially clothes. Part of it, I’m sure is hypo-mania connected to summer and sun and enough vitamin D. Another part of it is connected to actually having some self-confidence about my body and how I am feeling inside, compared to how I used to feel when I was drinking every night. I just feel like I am glowing … not to the extent of a supernova, but in the range of supernova-glowyness. And that  feeling is making me want to strut. And shine. And exude. All good things, I think. So, yes. A little spending, but still okay. (Although, I do need to stop Now so that I don’t blow my monthly budget.) … And? Last fun thing connected to that? I bought my first bikini in 8 years! Talk about confidence. Well, I haven’t actually tried it on, but we shall see. I ordered it online last night, and when I showed it to the hubs he just got this jolt of energy and said and emphatic, ‘Yes!’ … Because he’s been trying to make me realize that even though I’m in my thirties, I don’t have to be a completely fuddy-dud. (By using the word ‘fuddy-dud,’ I think I automatically become one, though, don’t you?)

Anyway, I’m excited. … In theory. … I’ll keep you posted when Reality knocks on my door. *smile*

Alright. Off to naps with that sweet, wonderful boy I described above. Gah. He is amazing.

Day 42, I’m in love.

The Flood.

40 days.

40 nights.

Of tumult and challenge.

Of distress, worry, and self-doubt.

To trust in this?

To blindly hold on and hope?

Committed on a wandering vessel without a destination.

Worried about each wave.

Each new storm more threatening than the last.

At times, caught and spinning in whirlpools.

At others, wracked by ominous walls of water.

Days and days.

Nights and nights.


At last.

The sun.

Water recedes.

A more solid ground is slowly revealed.

The world warms.

Small, shaky steps test the earth.

A renewed and New Land.


Day 41, hello.


Hello, all. Happy Friday to you. Just a check-in with a few tiddlybits.

Checked-in with my therapist (hi) yesterday. Good work. Set some very simple goals of monitoring my temper and trying for some small successes in how I unleash it. Glad because the sobriety and the mood stabilization are such huge endeavors at the moment, that adding to my ‘to-do’ list would seem overwhelming at this stage in the game.

Same goes with the hubs’ goal of losing some weight. (He brought up last week we should do a pseudo-Biggest Loser challenge and base it on our own percentages lost in comparison to one another.) I definitely want to, and I am making some healthy additions to my life (daily exercise, more fruits & vegs), but I am not trying to lose any weight right now. It’s just a little too much to put on this woman’s plate.

Sobriety & Mental Health are definitely enough in and of themselves right now. *smile*

… So, in terms of ‘Fridaying’ it, I finally went out with some of my cast members last night after rehearsal. We went to a yummy neighborhood bar (my real first sober venture into the World o’ Alcohol), and it was a success! I splurged and had two NA beers and some yum-o wings. One of my actors asked if I was prego, but I just blamed it on the meds as had been my plan all along. I ended up getting home around 11:30 pm, which pushed my med routine back considerably. I ended up sleeping in until 9 am, which was love-ily, but also threw the rest of today into a relaxed-not-going-to-do-much kind of a day.

And do you know? That is juuuuust fine with me.  Small (gentle) steps, grasshopper…

Checked in with my psychiatrist today. All is going well and it’s full-steam ahead before another check-up in three months. A good sign.

Instead of naps today, the babes and I curled up in our basement and watched Despicable Me, which was nice. And now, just did a mini-ab-workout, and am about to gett ready for a show tonight. Perfect. Not a lot, but just enough not to feel like I didn’t do aaaanything at all.

Alright, well. That’s it for now. I just wanted to check-in and reroute my digestive escapades from yesterday so that that particular post is not the first thing you all see when you see Me. Hee. *embarrassedblush* I hope you all have (or had) a love-ily Friday!

Day 39, TGI_.

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: