New Life

I stole this from someone's blog, but I like what it says.

"In the last analysis, the individual person is responsible for living his own life and for "finding himself." If he persists in shifting his responsibility to somebody else, he fails to find out the meaning of his own existence. "- Thomas Merton

I went to yoga tonight, pilates yesterday. The February slump has to go. Soon it will be March, April and May. I want to wear my bikini in June! These 60 lbs have to go! When I moved back to the Midwest, I was at my ultimate goal weight. Insert broken leg, gallbladder surgery, death of the fiance, meningitis and uncontrollable alcoholism, and we've got an extra 60 pounds to take off. Yuck. Seems impossible. Totally out of reach. But I know I can do it, and I finally WANT to. For someone who hates to sweat and lived in the south for a year, it's gotta happen. Then I read this crap about what your waist measurement should b e in relation to your height. 5 inches?!? My God. How do you take five inches off your waist? So, hence the gym and the disgusting feeling I have of my body.

I've done the Atkins diet several times with great success, and then there's nothing at the hospital cafeteria that satisfies and I'm back to fries and chicken strips. And I'm off to the races. So - grocery shopping done, low carb tortillas bought, roast beef, eggs, turkey and cheese bought and taken to work today. I had no trouble doing it last time - there was the fear of someone (to be totally unnamed) seeing me naked that was motivating. Now, I just know that I want to feel better, to do my 100s in pilates without the five inches of extra fat in the way of what should be good breathing. Yuck.

On to another subject. There's a reunion of Tallgrass alumni tomorrow night. I want to go. Sort of. There's an appreciation dinner on Saturday - for which I must look absolutely fabulous (Ha!). But do I want to do the social thing - I don't know? I really don't know. Most of the time I can come out of my shell and be the person I'm supposed to be. The other times - I just want to hide. This recovery thing is a bitch. Seriously. I "get it" some days and others I really struggle. I want to hide in my house and be the recluse I learned to be. The other days, I have to accept that people actually like being around me, look forward to seeing me and enjoy talking with me. It's still hard. After a year, I thought it might get better, but it comes and goes. Phht! I wish I could just be "me" all the time and leave it at that. Seems like I'm always a human "becoming," and never a human being.

Feeling sooooo fat! Yuck. Disgusting hideous fat. Psychological wellbeing does not encourage you to say such things about oneself, but it cannot be helped today. Blech.

It's Friday! Yippee! And I have no plans for any of it! Even more fun! I might take a nap. Or a drive. Or cook something fabulous and have people over. I might even read one of the books on my never-ending "must read" list. There's never enough time to read....

I'm going to "Choreography Challenge" at the gym tomorrow morning. Somthing Britney Spearsish I'm hoping. The instructor we had for strippercize kept telling us to unleash our inner "ho." I had trouble not giggling, much less acting sexy. I always thought the "women only" gyms were just a ploy for membership, but I tell you what. I LOVE IT! It's all about me when I'm there. Sure, there's the girl that runs for two hours on the treadmill without looking hot or sweaty, or the other gal with the rock hard abs, but then there's women there that look just like me - kind of okay, but lumpy in areas and definitely not strong. I don't feel judged there at ALL. Not that I thought I was judged at other gyms before, but there's something freeing about it all.

Rarely do I wax political or philosophical outside of my comfort zone, but the surgeon I work for (who is somewhat of a left-wing extremist, which I love) brought this article to me to read this morning. It says all the things I think about health care. As someone who was facing serious medical bankruptcy three years ago for a series of events entirely beyond my control, I say "Yes!" to healthcare reform. The problem is; that when I say yes to it, I have no clue what it would look like after reform. So, I stay out of the discussion because I don't know what options for change really exist. So there. All I know is that I work for a health system that doesn't pay me enough for me to pay my co-pays and deductible each year without debt - WITH the health insurance they provide me. There's something wrong with that. But then again, not everyone is as sick (in the head) as me.

It's 20 below today! And that's not even with the wind. Oh, the pleasures of living in the Midwest. Yippee! I broke out the extra warm, makes you feel like you can't move, crackle, crackle, down coat. It's been in hibernation since camping in the Smoky Mountains (brrr!). I looked absolutely festive in my pink and purple scarf, red and black coat, blue leather gloves and brown furry hat. I'm a rock star, I just know it. Sadly, I couldn't move to take a picture. You'll just have to do it in your head.

My co-worker left for Cancun this morning. Grrr.... I'm on camping reservation patrol, though. On Friday, we can make reservations for Memorial Day Weekend! The thought warms my soul!


And my always willing, never hesitating to make unsolicited suggestions Gay Boyfriend, decided I needed a hair make-over on Sunday. I like it. He says we're going shopping for some more colorful clothes another day. Apparently I need a lot of help :)

I have to admit that my guilty little pleasure involves watching CMT. Yes, I like country music. I started listening to it in North Carolina. There really wasn't much else to listen to. (Like that's an excuse...) In the morning when I'm getting ready, the top 10 is on. Ha!

Tomorrow morning I see my therapist. I didn't do my assignment. I haven't thought about the future, other than admitting that I don't.

The retreat was good. Lots of food (think I gained 10 lbs in three days), played volleyball for the first time since breaking my leg (and didn't break anything new), played cards till the wee hours of the night, and took some naps. Being forced to do nothing is good sometimes. I can't always relax at home - I find things to "have" to do when I could just be resting...

My mom is really torked off ( for God knows what reason) that I'm doing a sleep study. She thinks that I should do more meditation, hypnosis, acupuncture, whatever before I pay out my deductible for it. Well, what she doesn't know is that I've tried all of the above and I still twitch myself to exhaustion every night. I hate taking my sleeping medication. I stopped drinking for a reason - which included wicked hangovers. I feel the same way when I take my medication. I am willing to do pretty much anything to stop taking the dang stuff. She doesn't get it and I have to be okay with that. So - it's the hour of interrogation that bugs me. I should be used to it by now.

When I had a "man" in my life, my mom stayed out of it for the most part. When I'm "alone," she feels free to give every suggestion (read - control.) in the book and insist that I listen to her and do what she says. I try to understand that she is concerned about me- but the insistence that I do what she says - my God, I wish she would go to Alanon and "get it." But she doesn't. Ack. Patience, tolerance and love. That's all I can hope for and DO pray for. I kept my parents out of my life for how long when I was drinking and now I have to deal with the fall out of that. Serious boundaries. Serious.

Okay, so I was a little down last night. I still am. I cried for a few minutes this morning when I got to work. What the heck is wrong with me? I definitely need to get out of town and in less than eight hours, I WILL be!

Funny. The surgeon I work for asked me this morning when I was going to move on and go back to school. Apparently, pushing me to do the next right thing is "catching." (Mom, therapist, sponsor, friends, now my boss?! ) I'm trying to sort out Medical School vs. PhD or just getting a specialization in Play Therapy, which is what I've always wanted to do. I could be a psychiatrist, but I'm not so much into the medication. I like pathology better (Yes, sociopaths....) Our minds are just so fascinating to me. There's a school about 45 minutes from here that I was thinking about visiting last fall and then chickened out. Maybe now's the time. Ack. Stupid decisions.

My "assignment" for this week is to dream about my future. Yeah. I don't do that anymore. I understand the importance of having dreams and goals, but the fear, the irrational fear that I have of never getting to a goal just paralyzes me. I really had no idea that I stopped dreaming about the future when Jason died. I spent a lot of time grieving the physical and tangible losses. I didn't spend time addressing the fact that I lost my dreams of our life together. So I just stopped thinking about the future. Period. I've got stuff on my calendar for this month and next. But you know - those lofty dreams. They're gone and I am not sure how to get them back. When people mention my "future plans" I just kind of freeze emotionally and mentally. Like "Nope. Not going to go there." And apparently people can see that steely look in my eye that says I've got that part of my life under lock and key.

So, an assignment to dream. I suppose I can start with school. That sounds more safe than "life in general...."

I saw my therapist last Tuesday. I've been seeing her at least once a week for over three years now, you'd think I'd be cured :). But I'm not. Being in Jason's life, losing him and starting over has been a long process. Getting sober has been a long process, having a life again has been a process. She said the same thing my mother has said for over six months - you need a better job that challenges you. I know that in my heart, and yet it's frightening. I worked for the church for over 10 years, did a stint running group homes, and worked with behavioral disordered kids in NC for a year (which I loved). Now, I'm a secretary. My main job is to keep the surgeon I work for from pissing people off and getting pissed off - quitting or being fired. It really is true, doctors are very difficult to work for. But I love him, he piques my intellect, politically, spiritually, emotionally. Not a day goes by that we don't talk about "life" and how it changes and evolves as life experiences take us different place. For the first time in my life, I'm excited about politics. I'm lucky to work with a surgeon that sees his skill as an art and a science.

And I work with a wonderful woman who is close in age to me and whom is one of my best friends. I got this job the day after I left Tallgrass Recovery Center. It was a gift that I can't even fathom even now that I got. It wasn't even the job that I wanted - yet it was the perfect fit. And now I have to think about leaving. I love my job, but mostly all I do is surf the internet all day.

I have a master's degree, and I'm a secretary. For some reason, there was nothing wrong with that for the first six months of sobriety. Now, it just seems likes a waste. I've got the skills, I've got the ambition, I'm just scared to branch out and "try" again. Human services is where it's at for me. So I do the elimination. I don't like working with the elderly or mentally challenged - been there done that and its not me. I like kids and families. That's where my skills lie, but where do you go from there? I'm afraid and I suppose that's okay. It says in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous that we have to do the uncomfortable and unfamiliar when we want to grow. Ack. I don't have to like it, but I have to do it.

I hate that I'm 35 and I'm starting over. I hate that I'm not married and I hate that I don't have kids. I always wanted to be a young mom. That was not the direction my life took. Most of the time, I can be okay with where I've been and where I'm going, but tonight, I think it sucks. I think I'd make a great wife and mom, but it's not to be. I don't know where God is taking me, and I don't like that I don't know that either. I think I'm pissed about the whole thing, but that's okay too. One of the pastors I worked with once told me that it's okay to be angry at God - he's got the biggest shoulders to cry on. That made sense at the time, but I also know that I'm keeping my work and (truth be told) my love life out of His hands, and that will get me nowhere. I guess it will have to be okay for tonight. And that's all it can be. Reality. Don't like it sometimes.

Hot flashes. Yes, hot flashes at 35 years old. Been going on for several years now.... Today has been a really bad day - mostly because I didn't get enough sleep last night. There's so many variables - how much water I drink, how long I sleep, whether I'm using my hormone cream enough, blah blah blah. And they are caused by a medication I take that is potentially saving my life. When I first started taking it, the benefits WAAAYYY outweighed the side effects. Now I'm not so sure. Maybe if I take a cold shower I'll start to think a little more clearly about the whole thing! The whole beet red, sweat dripping down your face, hair getting hot and wet. Nothing to look forward to, my friends. It really does suck.

What a fabulous snowstorm we had, though! I've been waiting all winter for just such a snowfall. Huge, fluffy flakes that just kind of drifted down out of the sky (until the wind started blowing....) Last night was the perfect night to curl up with my cats in a blanket, reading in my big chair. I'm so grateful for my new apartment. Living with a gay man has certain benefits that are so attractive. He's soooo not into me sexually, which is great. And yet he can do all the man stuff, like FIX THINGS and be around when things go bump in the night, with the added benefit of telling me frequently that he loves me, lending me hair products and accessorizing my lame attempts at outfits. Its a win/win for both of us. I cook.

I'm going to an retreat this weekend in Olivet, SD. What fun! Tons of people I love and adore, meetings, games, volleyball, basketball, tons of food, watching movies until 4 a.m. (Well, that's for the rest of them - after this summers' camping trips, it's pretty much a given that I turn into a pumpkin at midnight.) I'm am soooo looking forward to getting out of town for a few days for some fun. My outdoor winter activities are still limited from my stupid broken leg from three years ago. Someday I'll get that dang rod out and I will go skiing, snowmobiling, sledding, ice skating, roller skating, my GOD, ANYTHING! Getting out of town to hang out with friends is a much needed respite. Yippee! Fun times in South Dakota.

Why is it that when I leave the salon with a new haircut, I have total confidence that I can make it look JUST LIKE SHE DID IT? Hmmph. I was late to work this morning because I was doing all sorts of contortions in my bathroom to make it look all slick and professional. Yeah, now it's just fuzzy and stringy at the same time?! How is that possible? Back to my own skills tomorrow and I'm sure it will look just fine. Phht!

I was listening to a radio talk show on Saturday morning - Groundhog's Day (and my Grandma's birthday!). They were debating whether or not the groundhog saw his shadow in South Dakota. And this guy pipes up and says, "Who the hell cares? You live in South Dakota. We're going to have at LEAST six more weeks of winter anyway. No groundhog needs to tell you that!" And I thought yes my friend, you are right. And today it's SNOWING! Yippee!

Oh, the beauty of waking up and truly wanting to face the day!

January's been a very hard month for me this year. I know that my up and downs cycle in October, January and May, but this down has been a bad one. So, I keep plugging along, knowing that it will pass and life will come to mean something again, but it's such hard work. Ack! Last week was Jason's birthday. I think that I'm moving on and then #BAM# (insert picture of Emeril) those little anniversaries come and I'm right back at the beginning. Crying, looking at pictures, reading old letters. He would have been 41 this year.

So today, when I'm rolling over onto a cat and she goes screeching off into the kitchen, I'm thinking, "Hey, it's going to be a pretty good day." And that's when I know it's over and I'm back on track. Totally different from the "I can't get up. I don't want to face life." One of my friends says, "Oh, your lights are back on." Meaning that my mischevious sparkle is back. And I love my mischevious sparkle! I hate it when it goes away.















I mean, really. I hate it when sticking my toungue out just seems like a chore...

Here's to a great weekend! Cards and visiting tonight, meeting tomorrow morning, lunch with friends, nap - oh sweet, sweet nap, Pampered Chef party, yoga on Sunday, breakfast with friends, maybe - just maybe watch the Superbowl, and if not watch, then be the highly irritating one in the background going, "What are they doing now? How come they dropped the ball? What does THAT signal mean?" Yeah, no one likes to watch football with me. My lessons with Jason were just taking off. I was in the "I told you last time what the play was, just wait for the call before you ask me another *&^% question, okay honey? No really. I meant it when I said no more questions before the call. Oh, so you're going away mad? Hm. Good. I can watch it in peace." Yes, I was progressing....