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 |  Sing it if you understand... |
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2Am and I'm still awake writing a song If I get it all down on paper it's no longer inside of me threaten' the life it belongs to. And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd Cause these words are my diary screamin' out aloud And I know that you'll use them however you want to. But you can't jump the track We're like cars on a cable And life's like an hourglass glued to the table, No one can find the rewind button now Sing it if you understand...and breath... ~ Anna Nalick ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** This blaze was destined for you to be refined My plans for you this battle I had to require Even though, the fire is known to leave ashes behind These ashes will leave in you a God-Given Fire... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** This woman prays... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ~ Isaiah 61:3 To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion to give unto them Beauty for Ashes the oil of joy for mourning the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness that they might be called trees of righteousness the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified. |
The vent machine was taken out today!!! By noon Mike was talking and telling my mom he wants to go home!  This is wonderful news! My mom’s voice expressed such relief! He is off the machine, and he is doing very well. He handled it very good she said! I am going to hang out at my mom’s house today after work. I am taking some of my laundry over there, going to keep her cat and fish company, make sure the trash is out, no dishes are mildewing. I plan on getting her home back in order; the ambulance guys rearranged the furniture so it’s a mess! I’m also going to get the process started of filing for financial aid so that I can possibly start going to school. Sarah wrote me a letter again today. She is mailing it to work which is not cool. She is also giving me letters to give to John. I gave him the last letter. This one I will be sending back to her. I’m not going to keep her in contact with her damn connect. FUCK THAT! I got to go it’s a busy day at the office, but just wanted you all to know that Mike is doing better and better. Love, Jen |
I got a package today in my mail box from Debi Wharton    I open it up and it’s a Joyce Meyer book, “Reduce me to Love.” I have wanted that book for a while. I really think it is going to minister to me and my love walk will just BLOOM! I’m so thankful for your gift, Mama Deb! The card she sent with it is absolutely beautiful. Well, I think it’s the words she wrote that are most beautiful. Just made me smile from ear to ear! She intended for me to get it on my birthday, the 15th… I imagine it was in my mailbox at that time, but Mama Deb, I’m AWFUL at checking the mail! I will definitely be more inclined to check my mailbox now! Thank you so much Mama Deb! I’m really feeling so many different things at once that I ‘m not sure where to even begin. Maybe I should do a free write and just let it all pour out, so don’t expect any profoundness here… Jen is just VOMITING. I am utterly exhausted. My neck and shoulders are killing me. It’s not a stress pain that I am ever so familiar with not his one is exhaustion. I couldn’t’ sleep well last night even when I was in my own bed. I just kept thinking about this or that… there or here. You or him… just over and over and my mind. I did finally find sleep but not near enough. I really am burned up on my job. I talked to my boss this morning. She seemed to have an attitude when I first got there. I was almost an hour late. I told her what was going on and she said well, you are paid hourly so you need to try to miss as little as you can. That was just strange coming from my boss, it seemed more like something my mother would say to me. I know that I am paid hourly, thank you… She was kind, aloof, her normal emotionless self. I’m just not happy with the way she runs her affairs. I am almost embarrassed/ashamed to be a part of that dysfunctional team. Next month will be my two-year mark of being at this job. I think I’m just getting that itch. I have a history of two-year marks with my jobs. I have a history of two-month marks with relationships. So I guess I’m doing better in the job department. I decided the other day that I was just going to stay in my own square. See I have a problem with staying in my own square. I like to be helpful sometimes many times; and well, many times I am too damn helpful. It’s no good for them or for me. I get on their nerves and they end up pissing me off for lack of appreciation. Relationships and jobs, we are speaking… both. I stood on Juanita’s checkered carpet last week, stood dead center on one of the squares and told them all “ This is my square”… I’m staying in my square… You stay out of it… though it really matters not if someone wants to get all up in my square because the fact is, I have nothing to hide! I answer to God long before I answer to my boss lady so the truth is… I’m blameless. Ok, maybe blameless is not the word but then again maybe it is. I’m the first to stand up and say I made a mistake, I did this wrong, I reacted this way, or whatever. So there just isn’t anything that can be held against me… not anything that I haven’t come forthright about and admitted what I felt I did wrong, made decisions on how to do it right next time, and dealt with instead of denied. BUT I’m not going to take the blame when it isn’t mine to have. It just isn’t healthy for one thing. And I am by no means a pushover. Though many times people get the wrong impression of me at first glance. I have cultivated calmness through the years. I have been chasing after God long before I started chasing sobriety. I just had this thing with thinking God would STRIKE me perfect and I forgot that Faith without works is DEAD… or rather I never realized it until AA showed me the steps. But even before AA and even during my addictions, God was at work within my personality and me. I’ve talked about this before but I was a time bomb. I was ready for a fight twenty four hours a day. I was so very angry at the world. I thought every one was out to get me. That started getting better long before I started with recovery from drinking. It was a recovery from that which I thought I should be, or rather the only way I thought I could stay protected was if I stayed angry and acted tough. That recovery process began with I was 22 years old and became a believer. It BEGAN… Like mere beginnings… I was so OUT THERE I got on my own nerves. But Truths --- I was more afraid then than I am now… and now I don’t act near as angry or tough. Weird… or maybe not… Back to TODAY’S square… During lunch I got the good news about Mike and my attitude changed drastically. Even though still exhausted, it was a happy exhaustion. It was an exhaustion that was well worth it because Mike is going to be OK. I’ve really kind of kept Mike at a distance most of the time he has been married to my mother. When he first came along we fought like cats and dogs. I mean it was UGLY! He stepped right in our lives and just took over and I was a mad little girl! At one time I said to him “I wished he would die so that I could have a relationship with my mother”. Oh GOD, you know those words I spoke have haunted me like hell would these last few days. I was drinking when I said that to him and I called him the next day and offered a sincere and heartfelt apology. He accepted it. Mike is not one to hold a grudge. He just let’s things slide of his back, accepts people for what they are and goes on. But I know that my words are not easily forgotten. ME, Personally I would hold a grudge FOREVER… Forever those words would echo through my obsessive mind. I have another battle in front of me and that is just how to let stuff go… most of all, how to let my own mistakes and wrongs go. Mike is an emotional man. He is always telling me he loves me. Always hugging me. Kisses me on my check, lays his head on my shoulder from behind me and I really wig out sometimes about it. My dad was not an affectionate man at all. In fact, I can count on one hand how many times I have heard my father say he loves me. He NEVER hugged me and damn sure didn’t kiss up on me. So my first thought when Mike was all affectionate was that he was getting funny with me! I honestly did not know that a father figure would be interested in loving on his child in such a way. It blew my mind to a drunk. At first I thought Mike was off his rocker. I’ve since learned that it’s ok. I don’t know that I’ll ever be comfortable with it, but I know it’s ok. I wish I was… I sat in the waiting room of the hospital and there was an older man and his older aged daughter sitting there together. They didn’t seem too sad so they must have been there for something minor but they were just talking like friends. Friends that really cared for each other... like bonded. The dad had his hand sitting on her leg and would just pat her every now and then. He had a soda and offered her a drink from his sprite bottle. I thought that was SO odd! I remember getting backslapped for taking a sip from my father’s glass of tea, when I was still very young. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLi0yBmPe0k I’m very jealous of a daughter who has an affectionate father. I sit and watch in envy, just wishing that I had that. But I’m not capable of it… it’s like it’s too late for me now. Mike has wanted to get close to me for a long time and I just can’t do it, even though I want too. You guys know how much he means to me by reading about my sadness now… but could I tell Mike all of this? I don’t think I ever could. I was standing next to his hospital bed watching him sleep and I just kept saying over and over in my head, “I’m sorry that I can’t tell you how much you mean to me.” I’m trying and I just can’t. I’m afraid. I’m afraid that maybe he will backslap me… Even as he lies there strapped to a hospital bed? It’s not a physical backslap that hurts me anymore… it’s the emotional backslap I fear. Maybe it’s just foolish pride… I’m afraid to show some people how much I care because if they knew then they would know that they could hurt me. It’s only with certain people. It can be men or women but it’s mostly men. This leads me to talk about what I have often referred to as my “Men Obsessions”… by the way; my step dad has nothing at all to do with this. I changed the name… it is now what I refer to as my “make dad love me obsession”… it’s not like a stalk people… but then again I do remember driving by certain places a over and over when I was drinking… but it’s just more of a rolling over and over in my mind… How can I make him love me? Why doesn’t he love me? What did I do wrong? Oh, he called so I must have done something right. He’s coming to see me so I must have done my hair nice today. Yeah, he’s walking down stairs so he can see me. Oh, he just acted that way to hide how he REALLY feels. Just an example… GAWD I sound crazy but it’s a mental obsession and it’s only with certain men. Men that aren’t attracted to me. Men that are emotionally unavailable. Men that treat me badly. Men that don’t have time for me. Men that use me for what I’m worth. I’m quite capable of being friends with a man that doesn’t exhibit the characteristics that dad taught me I deserved. I’m very capable of falling in love with a man that doesn’t exhibit those characteristics. The above isn’t love… it’s a sick, twisted, obsession that stems so far back in my childhood that it’s no shit taken me thirty one years to figure it out. Is this making sense? My sponsor said it does… my mom said it does… I now refer to what I use to call “men obsessions” to my “make dad love me obsession”. The truth is, I just didn’t know what the hell to call it before. I knew that it had to do with men, not all men, but some men… and I knew that resembled an obsession now I know it’s a mental obsession. Just like I SING A SONG in my head every fucking hour of the day… over and over and over… This shit goes through my head over and over and over… UNTIL… I make it stop. That is what the next step is. Greta asked Sheree about me the other day. Sheree told her to ask ME how I am doing. She said, NO, I can’t talk to her right now. Said she was still my friend but she can’t talk to me right now. * Jen Rolls her eyes * Greta thinks I did something to her… WHAT? I have not a clue. THAT is a huge example of SELF-DENIAL. She sees everything else but her own faults. I thank GOD that I’m passed that stage. Maybe I should sponsor Greta. I got a letter from Sarah. She is facing hard time. Third conviction, felony theft over 1,500, she’s in a mess. She kept asking me over and over in her letter if I could forgive her. I wrote her back the same day I got the letter and asked if she remembered me telling her I would love her no matter what? I remember telling her that and I meant it. I couldn’t be her running buddy… but I never stopped loving her. Had I been her running buddy would I be there in jail with her? Maybe… Maybe not… I wouldn’t have agreed to the theft, but then again if I were strung out on dope… I’d be capable of anything. I ran smack into Bobby this afternoon. I had to wash my bedding cause LAWD it’s been a while and I wanted to sleep very comfy tonight. So I had my sheets and comforter in the dryer. I start down the stairs to retrieve them and I see bobby standing there watching his laundry tumble around in the dryer. I stopped dead still for about a minute. I even backed up a step or two but then said, “fuck it” … I’m not in the most friendly mood right now. Especially with Ex’s! Ones’ that left nasty notes on my door… at that. He blurts out in his LOUD obnoxious HICK voice “ How’s it going?” I didn’t smile. I didn’t look at him. I just mumbled “Laundry” … Nothing more… not even eye contact. I made my bed and then went to get some water from the water mill. THERE HE WAS standing at the bottom of my steps fixing to walk up them. “Is everything going ok?” he asked… “NO… actually my stepdad is sick and I’ve spent the weekend at Lubbock hospital and I’m damn exhausted”. I never stopped walking, never acknowledged the fact that he was on his way to my home. I just passed him up and left him standing there. He hollered behind me, “Is he going to be OK?” I said, I hope so… never looked back at him. I was such a bitch. If I were he, I would have been like “ damn what a bitch!”… And he was gone when I came back around with my full water bottles. I’m pretty pissed at him and my reasons are really OUT THERE but I’ve needed someone for help these last few days. It’s just been a bitch and being alone and having to carry the stress of my parents health alone is just a lot, I NEEDED someone to come get me!! And my sponsor is the closest human being to me right now, besides my mother. It just sucked … It’s not unbearable by any means and it’s damn sure not anything I’m not accustomed to doing already but in my mind I was thinking as I passed Bobby… “ You sorry son of a bitch… chose the bottle over me…ruined what could have been a beautiful thing… and now you want to ASK me how I’m doing!” Just leave me the fuck alone! It was very bad timing for him to try to be nice to me… and give me that sad concerned face… the one I THOUGHT meant something but it’s been damn near two years since we exited each others life. We live two doors down and once he brought me an Easter basket back that I had given him and another time he wrote a mean note and left it on my door. I’m almost certain it was him. Other than that… Nothing… at all… it’s like a flip was switched and he forgot I ever existed. It took me a while to get over it… but I did. Now, there is no way. In fact, I was concerned that he would come over later tonight and if he had a drink in his hand I wasn’t going to let him in my home. I had already made up my mind. But he didn’t show up… and he won’t. I’m going to bed… Tomorrow’s going to be a good day! RIGHT!?!?! |
| I felt pretty hopeless this morning. When I left Lubbock yesterday Mike wasn’t doing well. I didn’t want to leave but I had to. I didn’t want to leave my mom. She is there for Mike and it’s like I was there for her. I made sure she was set up in her little kitchenette hotel. I did some shopping for her before I left. She wanted some magazines, snacks, laundry detergent etc… I filled her car full of fuel. I cleaned the car for her. I was really just a walking almost raging zombie. As she was downcast also, the waitress at a café we stopped in asked if we were ok. Our emotions were just that obvious. This morning I woke up late. I hurried and bathed, dressed, rushed to work. I talked to my boss and told her what was going on. My mind was racing, just like it was last night. I couldn’t stay focused on just one thing. I didn’t want to chat with anyone up here. I just wanted to be left alone. I didn’t want to have to explain what is going on all over again and again. I called my mom during my lunch hour and the news was good! She said that he was off sedation and he was alert, waving at passerby’s, writing to her on a notepad, wrote for me to remember to feed his fish. She was very pleased and my mood warmed up by at least 20 degrees. I moved the money that mom asked me to do. I called Sheree to give her the news. Grabbed myself a lean pocket out of the fridge to bring back to work for lunch. All is utopia! The doctors felt confident that they would have the machine off of him TODAY! Then she calls me about 3PM and said that they were delayed once again. As they began the procedure of removing the tubes, Mike got out of control. His heart rate skyrocketed again. He is scared and anxious. So they had to postpone for today, gave him a smaller dose of sedation and left him alone. I’m going to call again tonight after my minutes are free and see what else she learns. BUT I have all intentions of washing my bedding and laundry. I’m going to do some things in my kitchen and REST tonight. No meetings… No stress… No nothing… Just me a comfy nighty, a clean fresh bed and a nice healthy meal! It’s almost time to leave my jobsite but I’ll be back… I have so much rolling around in my head I sure got to put it somewhere and very soon. Tomorrow is another day... I feel confident that Mike will be ok. Juanita wigged out on me this morning said her daddy died on that vent machine. More or less said the machine killed him... Just way to much info. I just walked away, added nothing to the conversation. Then the happy guy sent me a word on death, I can't read it. I don't care what the happy guy has to say about death. I don't want to know right now. |
| I am so exhausted but I’m so wound up. It was a hard day today. The hardest day I think thus far. Mike looks really good with the machine breathing for him. With the sedation he is at rest and looks so peaceful. Today they attempted to wean him from the vent machine. So they stopped the sedation. Instead of seeing a nice old guy playing charades with us, winking, lip synching the words “I love you”, and flipping off the nurses in fun. Today we saw a very uncomfortable Mike who was in a lot of physical pain. It was hard. I couldn’t stay in the ICU during visiting hours. I spent most of the day in the waiting room. My mom is a nurse and for a while (long time ago) I thought I just might follow in her footsteps but I’m just not cut out for it. I couldn’t dig a splinter out of my ex-husbands finger without getting squirrelly. And well nothing has changed… I can’t sit there and watch someone suffer. I even have to turn my head when they prick his finger for blood. I’m just a big wuss. Today…My mom could barely stay in the ICU. He was obviously in a lot of pain. In fact, the doctor ordered that the weaning from the vent be delayed and that he be given more sedation and painkillers. His heart rate soared up, his blood pressure and blood sugar skyrocketed. His face was flushed. The vent was only doing 50% of the breathing instead of all of it like before. We could hear the wheezing of his lungs from the bedside. I’ve never noticed my stepdad’s eyes like I have since he has been hospitalized. I guess the tubes going in his mouth and nose and the tape strapped across his face tends to bring your attention to the only part of him that is still so full of life. His blue green eyes… Maybe without the ability to speak or really even show facial expressions, his eyes seem to do his talking. Today they told a sad story. The good news is that his body has been examined with a fine toothed comb. He’s in good shape. His lungs are his weakness. Everything else looks fairly good. He’s a heavy smoker, he had childhood health problems with his lungs that left them compromised from the beginning. He’s worked in the oilfield all his life. He lives in West Texas! Gawd! Can you imagine what it must be like to suffocate? I would hate to go out that way. But he’s not going out that way either  … it’s just a little delay today. It’s going to be harder for Mike because he is a fighter. The nurse told us that Type A personalities that are use to being in control do not come off the vent as quickly as more passive personalities that listen and do what the staff says to do. She said this was her experience but we are hoping that Mike will put his foolish pride to the side and do what the professionals tell him to do. He will listen to my mom. They have an adorable relationship and he knows my mother has his best interest in mind. Though it may appear from the outside eye that Mike has her in check, it’s actually quite the opposite. I am so rambling… I woke up just exhausted this morning. We both dreaded the visits because we knew that Mike would be feeling it all and would be hurting and he was. We were glum from the beginning. I didn’t know what to do; I was really dazed and confused today. A combination of exhaustion and stress… my mother was not going to leave his side. I wouldn’t have let her anyway. I drove her car to Lubbock Friday morning and had no idea of how I was going to get back home. I had today off because of Presidents Day but tomorrow I am scheduled to clock in at 7AM. I tried to rent a car and couldn’t. I racked my brain trying to figure out how to get home. When I left Friday morning I didn’t call any of my friends. I even forgot to pack a bra! I should have left my car to a friend and then they could have driven it to pick me up. I called Skittles this morning and asked that he drive to Lubbock to get me. He really butthurt me. He told me no, said he can’t leave because of his probation. THAT is a bogus excuse!! He has left for weekend trips to the Lake without telling his probation officer, obviously he didn’t have time to fuck with me. I hung up on him. It really pissed me off listening to his fake, “I’m so sorry” “You’re in my prayer” Bullshit… He is OUT! I have no time for him no more! I never really liked the dude in the beginning. I saw right through is fakeness but I don’t always trust in my own intuition. I’m learning though. I dialed Sheree’s number just to cry to her. I knew she would be in Big Spring, TX today for school. She stays in Big Spring Monday – Thursday, attends her classes and comes back on Thursday night. Well, since there was an oil refinery explosion in Big Spring, all the school were closed and she was home. She came and got me, drove the two hours there and then the four hours bacK! We got lost!! It’s been a day, I should really go lay down… You find out who your friends are during times like this. Not just the one’s that find it a benefit to help you out because deep down they are thinking the rewards will far surpass the moments need. Nope, she’s one of them … drop everything, jump in your car, never stop to think what’s in it for me, or it’s way to far… she just showed on up with her big ol’ heart. Kind of like many of you… Thanks for all the support you guys have given me. Through the recovery , the 31st birthday and this with my step dad… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qPcmNdduVU  |
| I am here in Lubbock. We are staying at a hotel next to the hospital. Mike is looking good. He is still heavily sedated. Still on the breathing machine. His color has returned. We learned that he has double pneumonia with two different types of germs. There was mucus in his lungs as thick as marshmellows. Doctor compared his lungs to a wet sponge and even a dirty oil filter, BUT things are looking better. They will be weaning him off the vent machine starting tomorrow. Last night he was alert and we were all laughing and cutting up, Nurse got on to us saying we were getting him too excited but that nurse doesn't know my step dad, He talks all the time! It's going to excite him more if we sit next to him somber faced and scared. Another nurse called him a hoot. She asked him for a sign of yes and he held up his thumb, she asked what his sign for No would be and he flipped her off. But at least now they are able to communicate!  I am here in the lobby of the hotel. I think I will stay another night with my mother and then drive home tomorrow after the second visitation. We can only see him at certain times but he is getting lots of care here in the ICU. This is a wonderful hospital and we are very pleased with the staff. Good people. I guess that's all for now. Things are good, prayers are working. Mike is a fighter, he doesn't want to go and it sure looks like he is winning this battle!!!!! I love you all! |
| Hey y’all… I got a call from my mother at midnight saying the ambulance was at her home picking up my step-dad. He is now in the hospital here sedated with those tubes stuck in his lungs breathing for him. It doesn’t look good at all. I’m home packing a bag and then going to pick up my mother, we are following the ambulance to Lubbock where Mike will be in ICU. Lubbock is two hours away and has some of the finest hospitals in Texas. We are not sure what’s going on but Mike is fighting. He is scared. Every time he wakes up his face turns electric blue and bruise purple. Mike needs those prayers to keep coming. My mom needs them too. She is very confused and sad. Not sure I’ve seen my mom is such inner turmoil before. They didn’t expect this, he was feeling better today. I’m not much help because when he starts fighting and his face changes colors, his legs start kicking… I just freak! I’m not nurse material… no doubt about it. I have went running through the halls of the hospital like a mad woman looking for someone to help when he starts fighting and biting the tubes. Oh God, he doesn’t look good. Those PUNKS in the ER just don’t seem to care all that much, I’m not so sure they realize this is some one WE love. They seem to act like it’s just a JOB! Like serving out French fries or something… I’m just bitching… He does have a really cool respiratory chic that is riding with him to Lubbock. I have to go and get packed. Please, I beg you to send prayers up to heaven on my step-dad’s behalf. I want him healed and back to his full life, like he was when he married my mother 15 years ago… but I’ll have to be alright with God’s Will. I just don’t want him to suffer anymore. I hope I can be all what my mother needs right now. |
| So what’s up with Valentines Day? I did some researchin’ and this is what I came up with --- One legend contends that Valentine was a priest who served during the third century in Rome. The Emperor decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, so he outlawed marriage for young men. Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, defied the Emperor and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. When Valentine's actions were discovered, it was ordered that he be put to death. He died on February 14, 269 AD. Legend also says that St. Valentine left a farewell note for the jailer's daughter, who had become his friend, and signed it "From Your Valentine". My friend, Stephanie sent me a text message earlier, said: “Happy Singles Awareness Day!” Cracked me up! ** I want to say a special Thank You to all of you that sent birthday cards, Valentine cards, emails, comments, etc… I mean my inbox was stuffed full all day long! It really made my day. Thanks guys… My birthday is tomorrow… though!  Yes… But it’s like today was it because of all your online gifts and since we get our birthdays off at my POE all my co-workers gave me their gifts today. I mean I feel mighty special. Eve gave me MONEY! Betty gave me a huge balloon that sings happy birthday. (Which my ceiling fan murdered a few minutes ago)  Dawn bought me lunch. Mona gave me fingernail polish. The warehouse got together and got me a touch lamp and a celebrity cookbook. A card signed by everyone. Skittles sang Happy Birthday on my voicemail this morning. Carla gave me a plaque that has a crown of thorns on it and the scripture “It is Finished”… Yeah, that ROCKED, I was floored. This is the woman that I have the major issues with and it totally blew my mind when she gave me this gift. Ken (church guy that I had over for New Years dinner) dropped a valentine card through my car window. Ronnie, who is another guy I’ve talked on and off with since in recovery just HAPPENED to walk into the food bank today, carrying a hand full of little pipe looking things. He confused us with the pipe and Supply Company next door. That was a trip! But nothing come of it, just really wild. He called me just a few days ago and asked that I go see a movie with him but I declined because I was still sick. Just WEIRD that he would walk in like that… had no idea he would see me sitting at the front desk. It’s been a great day… Thanks to all of YOU! You guys really do mean a lot to me. |
| ** Warning ** This one isn't real pretty. There’s almost two weeks left until I am again at 90 days sober. Three months… 30 days + 30 days + 30 days… 2,160 hours… I can’t say that it’s been harder than my two other three-month marks but I can say it hasn’t really been much easier. The First ninety days I had of sobriety, I thought I would never make it. I kept relapsing and slipping, relapsing and slipping. I stopped drinking for a time but I fell for the diet pills, the prescribed painkillers and well the painkillers prescribed to the nice people that hooked me up with them. It never failed… the phenomena of craving kicked in and I was off and running after just one single pill that contained a mind-altering chemical. Thus…During my first ninety days I came to honestly believe I was an alcoholic of sorts. It was hard for me because I’m not nor have I ever been a low-bottom drunk. Like I’ve said before, I’ve never stolen for my addictions. I’ve never walked the streets hustling for my next high. I didn’t usually drink on work nights, until close to the end. I didn’t go to work drunk. Though, once I showed up damn wasted at a food drive event and I was suspended from work for a week. And well that was my first undeniable clue that I had a little problem. My first ninety days was all about changing my playgrounds and playmates. I struggled so hard letting go of all my old running buddies. I hadn’t made friends with anyone in sobriety yet and I couldn’t hang with my old running buddies and be sober. I was just stuck somewhere in the middle and not even with you. I was alone. I could pray only one short sentence, “God keep me sober for today.” And I could only do that because my sponsor told me if I didn’t … I would drink. I couldn’t think clearly. I couldn’t retain anything that I read. I couldn’t speak without confusing myself. My mind was a fog and my thoughts a big blur. It was so fucking hard not to drink because drinking and drugging was all I knew to do. I made it over ninety days and I started feeling good, hell I was damn near cured! I started going to the gym, started tanning on a regular basis. I was going to quit smoking, taking high dollar prescription Chantix to do this. I was going to lose weight. I did drop a lot of weight just from the lack of useless calories from alcohol. So I was looking good, I was feeling good, I was turning heads. I was on top of the world! I had all these huge and quite frankly, unrealistic ideas. You couldn’t tell me they were unrealistic, hell no, I wasn’t going to listen to anyone. I even questioned my sponsor many times. I thought I had it all figured out, I was going to be the teacher… not the student. My head had swollen bigger than my butt! That’s pretty big too. I was shortly asked to sponsor another girl after hitting my first ninety days. ** Jen straightens collar ** That made my head swell even bigger than my butt! I wasn’t reading the AA material. I wasn’t meditating. I wasn’t spending time with my higher power. I stopped asking Him to keep me sober cause hell I was doing just fine without Him. My focus was on JJ and on my new sponsee. I was going to prove to JJ what a fine Aunt Jeni he has, and I was going to beat Sarah upside the head until she figured out recovery was the way to go. In fact… I saw a lot of my previous style of sponsoring just recently in Greta. Sad… indeed. And then I got drunk and smoked dope with my sponsee… Which brought my arrogance to a screeching halt. I claimed another dry date. Sarah did not or could not. I don’t know which, but I spent the next ninety days in miserable guilt and self-condemnation. I thought I had ruined Sarah’s chance of recovery. I had somewhat of a survivor’s guilt and I barely made it through each sober day as I watched her fall deeper and deeper into the hell of addiction. I stopped everything. I stopped working out. I started shoveling food down my throat. I substituted food for alcohol. And well MEN too, or rather one man… I became obsessed with a certain man and I could think of little else. I never wrote about, or rather… I seldom blogged about it because I didn’t want you all to see just how sick I still was. But that’s where my high came from… His attention, but he couldn’t see me and I couldn’t see him so I sat at this computer and shoveled in the junk food and poured on the pounds. I isolated myself. I stopped primping. I stopped giving a damn about how I look. I gained close to thirty pounds during my second ninety days. Yeah! Talk about fucking drastic weight changes since I’ve sobered up. So the obsession with him began to subside… and I got bored. I wasn’t making meetings. I was going to work and coming home. I wasn’t praying. I wasn’t doing any of the things I know I need to do to stay fucking sober of mind! Not just sober from booze but fucking sane! And so the one low life that I see every day asked if I wanted to watch the Cowboys play and enjoy some party favors… it took less than a minute for me to agree, make a trip to my bank and withdraw every dime I had in there. Then when I ran out of money, I got in to Mommy’s bank account. Impressive, I know… So here I am… ROUND THREE… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1zpTQCQEFhg ** bing bing bing ** I’ve had to face this man every day knowing that all I have to do is say one word, bust out some cash and we would be out getting high and fucking for days. I’ve had to struggle with my own insecurities and pride because I don’t want that low life but I want him to want me. Sickie that I am… I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will NEVER have a functioning relationship with the man that helped give life to me. I’ve had a confrontation with him and I’ve honestly for the first time figured out that I’m not EVER going to “Win Him Over.” For the first thirty days it’s as if nothing went smoothly. Each day was an up hill climb. EVERY fucking day was a test… I’m having to work through this so-called Sponsor bitch getting her ego all up in my recovery. There are learning experiences in this that I will some day be thankful for but RIGHT NOW I’m still mad that she didn’t care about me. I reached out to someone and I was made a fool for it. THAT is one of the very reasons I drank like I did… but I stayed sober this time. I also know that people can only give what they have. I’m coming to terms with this situation but it still bites me at times. I’ve been SICK a month of these last ninety days. Alcoholics don’t handle SICK well… cause damn it, it would only take one little bitsy pill to CHANGE that bullshit… But I’m still sober. Thank God for Antibiotics! My stepbrother died during this ninety days. My step dad is extremely sick and it’s breaking my heart. He went to another doctor today and found out that’s it’s his heart. He is coughing so hard that he is passing out. He is turning blue and falling to the fucking floor! But today he saw a different doctor and this doctor believes it is his heart and has lots of testing in store for him. So Thank GOD at least now he is getting somewhere. I saw a side of Skittles that I didn’t like and damn it … I had him on a pedestal. Turns out he is just a fucking man with faults and everything! There for a while, every person I turned to for help just seemed to let me down. Even now I’m quite lonely. It’s Valentines Day, it’s my birthday, I’m turning 31 years old and I’m all alone… That’s not a babe in the woods, damn it… and I’m scared. I’m scared that all of this SHIT that I’m going through isn’t going to make anything better. Am I just making myself suffer for nothing? I refuse to believe that I am... TODAY… I can find enough hope to start again in the morning. BUT there are NO guarantees for tomorrow… Just like a prisoner on death row, it’s like I have a daily reprieve. There is no certainty. There are no promises… Today was a hard day. I felt better, the antibiotics are kicking in and sometimes feeling good is not good for me because I want to celebrate, to celebrate is to feel even better. This morning I was decked out. I felt good in my skirt and leather boots, had a good hair day, first time in a month that I painted my eyes and lips bold. I felt good but restless… Restless, irritable and discontent. I wanted attention and I wasn’t getting it… There are no men obsessions going on right now, it’s like I am weaning off that too and it’s just fucking hard. Then I’m so aggravated at You know WHO from work. Watching her soar with the eagles is chapping my overly fluffy behind. I’m jealous I guess… Jealous because here I am SUFFERING because I want to live right, do right, be honest and upright in all my affairs… She isn’t… and honestly it looks like she is living it up and I’m barely scraping through the days… Exhausted from all this inside work going on and I just can’t see the end results yet… but I’m holding on to my Faith… I believe what goes up without a solid foundation will eventually come crashing down. Things are getting better, though it may not look like it tonight. I’m still not giving up. I need to write about the good things that have also come during this last ninety days, because there are many… but right now I’m going to bed. |
| Can a wolf in sheep’s clothing make it through life without ever being found as a wolf? OK, so maybe they aren’t even a wolf, maybe they just smooch the boss’s butt, tell everything they know, pretend to be something they are not… Will the boss ever figure it out? Or will I sit back and watch this person soar high and never crash? I’m eat up over “You know who” once again… Do I sit back and watch this person hang themselves? Will they ever? Or do I pack up and hit the road? Somebody talk to me… What’s your experience in this area? Does what goes up eventually come down? Does the good guy really win? |
| Clinic Doctor – nice, reserved young guy, with a few grays in his moustache and a shiny gold band on his left hand. Of course I notice these things Diagnosed me with Tonsillitis. Tried to give me codeine cough syrup. Mr. Clinic Doctor, I can’t have anything that I got to show my drivers’ license to the pharmacy to pick up. He seemed a little confused, I offered no explanation. He scratches out the prescription and rolls his eyes discreetly. He begins writing me out a prescription for nasal spray. Mr. Clinic Doctor, I have nasal spray at my home. I don’t need that prescribed. Second scratching out on the prescription notepad and again rolls discreetly. Began writing me a prescription for a Z-pack. I don’t want a Z-pack, Doc! I flutter my eyelashes and explain my disposition. Too expensive, didn’t work for me last time. Could you just prescribe me a cheap generic antibiotic Mr. Clinic Doctor! Third large X mark on third prescription paper… and third discreet eyeball roll. Could you give me a shot, Mr. Clinic Doctor? I mean… if you think it would help me of course. “So 10 days antibiotic and a shot? Anything else?” Mr. Clinic Doctor frustratingly questioned. I think that’ll be all! Thanks!!!I think he felt a little bossed around. Well, who cares!? I don’t have to explain that I am an addict and I don’t need narcotics prescribed to me. I don’t have to pay the outrageous price for prescribed nasal spray when I got a zillion bottles lying around my apartment. AND I’m not going to pay $60 WITH my insurance for that damn Z-PACK when the cheap stuff for $4.67 will suffice! The good news… I think I feel better already! ** Jen Knocks on Wood ** I had dinner with Lucy tonight and she is just awesome. I love Lucy! I had a Great Aunt Lucy, she died when I was 13 years old. She was the bomb. My brother and I both loved her so much. Well, everybody loved Lucy. She was just a good woman. She never had kids of her own and she treated my brother and I like we hung the moon. She always smelled like Juicy fruit gum, even her purse had the smell. And Honey buns, always she had a box of honey buns when she would come to visit us. We knew there was a honey bun SOMEWHERE! She was just a neat lady and I will forever be fond of the name Lucy because of my Great Aunt Lucy. Still Lucy, my steps sponsor is really neat to. Disorganized she is… Oh my, how do I describe her Steps folder and purse contents? Dysfunctional! That’s the word… But she is so right for me. Just listening to her talk over dinner, it’s like she is me in another thirty years telling my story. She is going to do my hair on Friday, MY BIRTHDAY! I’m telling everybody I know… ONLY TWO MORE SHOPPING DAYS till my birthday! Git R Done! Lucy said something tonight about how she has always had a big ego but a low self-esteem. What a trip! Yeah! Exactly… She talked about always taking inventory of what she did wrong but never even seeing what she did right. Yeah! Exactly… She spoke about taking responsibility for every one else’s feelings. Yeah! Exactly… I brought up the Greta thing. You see, Lucy witnessed Greta go off on me. God, I’m so thankful for that because I would have turned it on myself had there not been a witness. I imagine I would have. I’m known for doing shit like that… Telling myself: Well, it’s MY fault that she acted that way. I did something. I provoked her. I shouldn’t expect a phone call from someone that claims to give a shit about me. BUT none of that is true; it’s just my old mindset. Sherree has been supportive of me but she WON’T take sides, for a minute I wasn’t even sure that she believed me when I told her. But… She wasn’t there and she works a strong program and just won’t side with me. BUT Lucy saw it with her own eyes she even spoke and said she had to talk to her sponsor and her husband about that situation because she finds herself resentful towards Greta for the way she acted to me. She said she would have left the rooms of AA and never returned if someone had got in her shit like that when she was first sober. I’m pretty sure that if I hadn’t had this year of recovery behind me, I would have never went back, but because I have Sherree and this year, I’ve been able to see it as Greta’s problem and not mine. It’s also been a HUGE learning experience for me. Everything that happens, Happens for a reason. EVERYTHING… We can learn something from everyone and in every circumstance. Lucy called Greta a “Rolling Pin”. She has a strange vocabulary at times… but she explained how Greta’s personality is just different from hers and mine. And I knew that, but it helped to be reminded. Sherree, Lucy and I do have somewhat of the same demeanor. We are all soft-spoken women. Sherree is out going but Lucy is a bit reserved. I’m back and forth, depends on my mood and I’m damn sure moody! One extreme to the next… I can not deny! But Sherree is a hugger. I’m not. Lucy is not. Greta is not. I’m getting way off my point here… but what I mean to say, Greta lived on the streets for seven years. She is a hard core, dope hustling, will run your ass over if you get in the way of what she wants, kind of addict. Sherree, Lucy and I have not that natural temperament; we are more of a softer more loving variety. Even in our addiction, we just wanted to be loved or just wanted someone to love. I’ve never lived on the streets. I’ve never stolen to get my high. I always worked. I didn’t drink every day. I was a weekend warrior. I didn’t even do dope until I was so drunk I didn’t know what I was doing. Besides pot… I was a big pot smoker before I ever became a drinker but I was always against any of the harder drugs. Even threatened to leave my ex husband because he was snorting cocaine with his mom. So… Am I making any sense? I don’t think so… NO. I’m not an outwardly aggressive woman as to where Greta is. I’m quiet, I’m polite, I care too much sometimes about other people and how they think, what they want, or why they act a certain way. But I have a temper that flares and will trip some people out because they did not know I was capable of getting that mean. Sherree I think is past all that nonsense and doesn’t get to the point of losing it anymore. Lucy, I’m not sure… but Greta just looks mean, talks tough and is outwardly aggressive. She’s lived a rough lifestyle and like she has said herself, would not be sober if to drink wasn’t to die for her… So there is just a huge difference in us. I made a mistake by going to her for guidance, but did I really? I learned a lot from that situation. Not necessarily from her but from that situation… I’m so rambling… What I’m trying to say… We all handle things differently, based on our experience, our temperaments, where we are at in life now… we just all do the best we can at that time of our life and if it ain’t good enough for the guys you hang around with… Then find you a different one! Find the one that fits… Don’t hold any of this against me in the morning… Night Night. |
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