New Life

My first geocache find with Mom and Dad at Blue Mounds State Park



















None of these children are ours; the sharing of the kids is one of the blessings I have received since getting in recovery. I may never have my own, but I get my own version of potty training and sugar overloads and melt downs. I wouldn't trade it for the world. But please make sure you see how boobylicious I am in that suit. Yikes, those babies are huge!

I watched P.S. I Love You on Wednesday night and finished it last night. Bawlfest. What was I thinking? Phht.

I took the day off yesterday. I slept in until 9. It was quite luxurious. Then M and I went to the lake and spent the day floating from one end of the lake to the other, paddling back to land for a quick snack and then starting all over again. The circle of beach life. It was amazing. It was restorative, and it was exactly what I've been needing. A break. The day was rounded out by watching a movie. I ALMOST made it to the end. I tend to watch movies in 20 minute segments that often have to be restarted because I forget what happened before I sit down to watch the next 20 minutes five days later. I just can't sit still that long. Either that or the cinematic quality of movies has gone way, way down. They don't hold my attention. I crawled into bed at the lovely hour of 10 p.m. and slept until morning. It was a great day.

And then I felt guilty because I called in sick. I might be going to hell.

Friday night, I threw a barbeque for Gay Boyfriend's birthday. Lots of fun and GB told me his whole birthday weekend topped the last best birthday he had which was four years ago. He seems to be settling into himself more and more and I like watching it. He's not so afraid of the big bad biker crew that I hang around with anymore. I think he's actually starting to believe that his gayness has nothing to do with whether or not anyone respects him.

Saturday was the huge Tallgrass event. Speakers, picnic, comedian, fellowship and fun. I was out there from 1 p.m. until 11 p.m. It was a long, long day, but I looked smokin' hot in my new dress and the weather cooperated for a 500 participant outdoor event. The night ended with a bonfire and lots of guitars. Kumbaya, we are not. More like Bob Marley and Bob Dylan fans, and it was fun.

Sunday, the BEACH. A perfect, sunny, fluffy clouds, not too hot and a gentle breeze greeted us at 10 a.m. Swimming with J's girls and lots of junk food and smut magazines. The Enquirer really is full of crap. But I guess that's what you do at the beach anymore. Sun and smiles later, we went to ANOTHER friend's barbeque and then a quiet night on the swing in the backyard with Miss M, who is getting her business plan in place to buy the bakery in a nearby small town. She asked me if I could be the sexy Saturday morning counter girl for awhile, and I responded in the affirmative, as long as I could wear a sexy apron! These are exciting times, and even though it has nothing to do with me, being happy for a friend's success is a long way for me to have come!

I had to go back to work to rest up from my frivolity. Is it legal to sleep sitting up in front of your computer?

I am trying my best. I really am. I had supposed that this would be the summer of freedom. Freedom from my thoughts. Freedom from the demons, freedom from the obsessions, freedom from me, I guess. My head is not so okay. My body is not so okay either. I'm suffering from an emotional and spiritual drain that makes me oh so very tired. All of a sudden, things are so very real. I realize that the loss of Jason and the subsequent year of drinking afterward was all a blur - that I couldn't process a dang thing or make sense or know what day it was. It's been two and a half years now. This month. As much as I like to forget, anniversaries die hard when it comes to his death. I can pretend to forget about it, but it sneaks up on me even if I'm not looking. I try to evade the issue. I try to make fun of it all, but in the end, it hurts. If this is the end of the grief, I'll do it and not complain. If this is the beginning of the really hard place, I don't want anything to do with it.

Our life together was at one time immortalized through my pink glasses. In learning how to strip those memories of their color, I've come to believe that it was a farce. And yet love. So much love. I don't know how to make sense of that. I'd like to put him to rest. He's still in his dad's closet. In two urns. I don't like that. And I don't have a say in that. He wanted to be free. He wanted to be in the hills. But I can't make his family do it. I have no rights according to them. The acceptance of that is hard to come by.

I am sincerely hopeful that these past few weeks are the end of the grief. I can't do it for much longer. It hurts too much.

Please send the sleep police. My bed has turned into a place of torture.

So, in the interest of being messed up, I miss Jason tonight. My therapist asked me yesterday to name the three best things that came out of our relationship. The number one thing was that he introduced me to recovery, the second being that the move and back from NC was the greatest adventure of my life thus far. I couldn 't think of a third thing and somehow that slays my heart. What does it mean to love and what do you do about it? Did I really love him? I don't know, but my journals say that I did and that I felt something cosmic that I can't seem to reproduce by myself.


I miss him, or do I? I miss the sober Jason that I met. I don't miss the drunk Jason. He was long gone before he physically died. I know that with all my heart. And yet? The sadness that if he had hung on he may have had the relief and happiness that I now enjoy? Damn. It slays me tonight. Sometimes I wish he was here so I could beat the shit out of him. Sometimes I wish he was here so I could make love to him. It's a toss up I guess. It still hurts, but it's getting better. He's not here. I accept that. He's never coming back. I accept that, too. And what do I do about it? I don't cry as much and I don't despair as much, but I sure as hell feel sad a lot.

I did it! I got my very first motorcycle ride! I went 80 miles, got hit by a june bug, which felt like a rock, but the wind, and the way it pounds through your head - I couldn't even think. And what a freeing feeling that was - to have a clear mind for a couple of hours! I went with my friend Tiny, who is anything but. He really was the only one big enough with a big enough bike for my 6 foot tall and not so skinny frame. But I have trusted him with my life several times in the past few years and if there was anyone I believed who would keep me safe - it was him.

AND the band they had was incredible, they played a little bit of everything and I stayed up dancing until about 1 a.m. (I'm usually in bed by 10!) The bonfire was incredible and the bikes were amazing. Can you tell I had a good time? So glad I didn't give in to my scaredy-cat self that likes to back out of new things at the last minute!

The interview went quite well. Six people were in there with me - which I'm used to, since working for the church usually requires a committee to hire someone - been there, done that. I felt a camaraderie there that I might enjoy, so we'll see. I'm not in a hurry to find something new and if it's the right thing, it will present itself as such to me. I truly believe that. The chance to work with women and children again is a wonderful feeling. Mostly, because I know my heart is in it and I'm very good at it.

Hope you all had good weekends, too. I couldn't have asked for a better time. And the weather cooperated, too. What a gift!

I was asked to come for a second interview. Ack! It might be real. Like I said before, I don't know if I want this, but it's worth pursuing. It might actually use my degree! The cool thing is I still love my job here, and I don't HAVE to take it if I don't want to (been in that situation before. Yuck!) And I know what amount of money I would leave here for. Not that it's all about money, but to some extent for certain.

Wish me luck! And then tomorrow I go to the Ex-Wino's campout in MN. Lots of Harleys and dirty boys. Yummy!

(I really am a little sick in the head, but we like me that way....)

So, one of my girlfriends is being somewhat stalked by her ex-boyfriend. It's so ridiculously insane. I mean, you think you know someone and you have a relationship with them and then suddenly they're just this icky, weird, insane person who you then choose to break up with. Then the REAL madness sets in. I guess I just never worried about my personal safety with the men I dated. And this? This is nuts. He's nuts. Standing outside someone's door, pounding on it for an hour and calling every five minutes leaving scathing messages? I'm not sure whether or not he'd try to hurt her, but that kind of insanity kind of begs the question I guess.

And then what keeps someone from calling the police? I've never been in that position so I don't know what I would do. It's someone you thought you cared about and even though he went off his rocker, this is NOT the person we remember him being. So, how long do you wait before taking action? The whole thing scares me, and it's not even ME!

I can't make her call the police the next time he comes over, but I worry about her too. The whole thing is frightening and really messed up.

'Cause that's how we roll around here on a lazy Saturday.

Oh, and I have a kidney stone. Go figure.

Another week of rain. I think spring hit late around here! The flowers kind of came up and then withered on the vine. At least we're not at scorch and 100 percent humidity yet. June can be that way here sometimes.

This weekend is my employer's party - huge carnival, concert, blah blah blah. I would have rather had a raise. But Sunday is a day at the beach in Yankton on the river. Hopefully the sun will grace us with it's presence. Don't know if we'll take a boat out or not, but I love boating on that river. You can just go and go and go. I love the way the wind feels in my hair and the sun on my face. I'm kind of a dork about boats. We never did boating when I was growing up and I'm so fond of it now. I'm like a little kid every single time. I like that child-like quality about me today - the ability to just enjoy the moment for what it is. Water, sun, wind, exhilarating.

Getting up on waterskis is another story entirely.

Carolyn told me this morning that my moods and thoughts have been "more consistent" in the last six months. I think she's right - I have a much better sense of being "me" today. I am getting to know what I like, what I stand for and can actually stand up for myself and my beliefs again. When I lost that? I don't know, but I like having it back to a degree.

And even when I feel crazy? I just feel it and let it pass and come out on the other side just fine most of the time. I think this might be the most "normal" I've been in a long time. Sure, there's always something to improve on or work toward, but I like to focus on living these days - what I can get out of and add to the stream of life.

That's a far cry from where I was a year ago, and even more so the year before that. Now, not that the idea of stopping therapy doesn't strike me with fear and a few tears. (Mind you, she didn't say anything about that - that's just how my head works - right to the fear!) It scares me. It's kind of comforting to know that whatever happens in my life, I will get to talk about it on Tuesday mornings. I guess I'll save the fear for another day, there's nothing I can do with it anyway.