Stay strong

These are words that I find myself saying everyday.  A constant reminder that “I am strong and can do this.”

Sobriety was never anything I thought would be easy and in the beginning. I really thought it would be down right impossible.  But through the last few months I have realized my inner strength and my ability to get through hard times with out having to use or get loaded.

What I have learned over the last 130 days is that I can feel bad, without being or doing bad.  I always thought they were the same thing. Emotions often dictated my attitude and my behavior.  I have learned over the  time that I can have ” feelings”  with out having to completely loose myself in them.  Yes, the ever so dramatic..FML, I can’t believe this is happening to me attitude is starting to dissolve away.

Over the last four months I have actually dealt with an array of things I never thought I would be able to get through sober. Things that were a sure sign I would need a drink at night have been bestowed upon  me and I have manger to stay sober.

-My Grandmother died on my 30 day mark and I didn’t drink.

-My son broke his jaw at school three days later.

-My grandfather passed away 6 weeks after my grandmother.

-My husband lost his job.

The biggest thing that I  have changed in sobriety is my attitude.  I am no longer looking for reasons to drink.  Situations do not dictate my feelings. I am, with the grace of God, in control of myself for the first time in a long time.  I wake up every morning and say a little prayer to get through the day.  At night before bed I hit my knees and thank God for the gift of sobriety. But most importantly, I take life one day at a time.







105 days today.

I never  thought I would get to type those words. Really, never.  Towards my very desperate end of my struggle I was convinced I would die a drunk.

I felt completely hopeless, desperate and willing to try anything to change.

Now that I can look back I see that my hopelessness was my saving grace.My complete willingness to do anything suggested was how I got here today.  I won’t go on and on about how or why.  I just wanted to make a short list of things I’ve been capable of doing or accomplished in the last 100 days.

  • I managed to take a month off work to work on myself. It REALY is possible.
  • I can go to the grocery store at 8pm at night to get milk when I’m running low.
  • I’ve been bowling and can remember it.
  • I learned “No.” is a sentence.
  • I started dealing with my past, Therapeutically and learned how to let go. Really let go…
  • I’ve learned to not need to be perfect, hence I now have an extremely messy house and I don’t care.
  • I’ve met Women I like..”gasp” I know..

Tell me some of the thing you’ve gained in early sobriety.


Fear is really what it boiled down to for me.  Fear of not knowing what was going to happen next.  That was it..not being able to predict the future.

It was a regular week for me.  Sitting in self pity about my drinking problem.  I felt like shit when I didn’t have a drink and even worse when I did. MY life on the outside seemed great.  Good job, big house, husband, kids, a nice car.  Everything on the outside looked so pretty.  If only you could look in and see the real me.

Finally, I had found myself sitting in my bedroom, with a bottle of pills in one hand and a bottle of booze in the other.  I was in tears writing out my goodbye letter to my kids and husband.  I couldn’t take it any more.  This had to stop somehow.

I didn’t take the pills that night.  I’m not sure why but I threw them in my top drawer and cried myself to sleep.  I woke up the next morning and vowed to never take another drink .  By the next day I was drinking again.

I’ve heard a many times the sense of hopelessness that one feels as an alcoholic.  I had never really understood what that had meant until the very moment the glass of wine hit my lips. I knew  it was bad, I knew I didn’t want to keep drinking like this, yet my brain kept saying “Just one drink.”

That was the bottom for me. It was it, the moment that I realized there was nothing I could do to help myself.  I got on my knees and prayed.  What happened to me over the course of the next five weeks was nothing short of a miracle.

I gave over my will to god and asked for help and it came.  I don’t know how or why it works the way it does,but I have started on a new journey of sobriety and I’m currently 41 days strong.

No more perfection.

It’s been another day. Another day that perfection wasn’t even in sight. Come to think of it, the definition of perfection escapes my vocabulary because it’s not a state that my life allows for. Another day that I stumbled through trying to keep the pieces gathered together without them falling at my feet. They never seem to be a perfect fit, do they?

Monday came and went. It didn’t stay long enough to say hello and it certainly didn’t have room for deep relaxing breaths. It’s Spring Break. Vacation? What a funny notion. Work hours started early, track practice was spent answering emails and dinner came in the form of a take out bag. And has someone switched the laundry from the washer to the dryer yet? I forget to get Dillon socks to match his track outfit, will anyone care? And my eyebrows stared back at me in the mirror this morning. I need to remember to tweeze those things!

Tuesday I was barely able to roll myself out of bed even after the alarm on my iPhone went off at every 15 minute increment beginning at 5:00 AM. It seems that 2:00 AM is a perfect time for a little one to go to bed when they have no preschool in the morning. And that breakfast that I wanted to make for my kids to relish in the relaxation of Spring Break? It came in the form of donuts brought home after I left work at 5:00 PM the day before, because we all know the kids are not going to want to get up early when they have no school. It was another day that I went without a shower, thank goodness for dry shampoo. A day without a workout and I am sure I went to bed with another pound gained. My husband is still out-of-town and I have two doctors appointments for the kids this week, a payroll deadline at work, and a house that we are closing on in three weeks. Still not sure how that is going to work. And seriously… that load in the washer.

Wednesday I yelled at the kids because the house was a mess. And through the toys lying around, I saw my shoes… and stack of paperwork… and my dish from breakfast on the counter… and my blanket on the couch from movie night the evening before. I hid away in my room to save myself the humility of having to apologize. Lunch was skipped that day because I didn’t have time the night before to go out and get more bread. I think the kids eat peanut butter and bananas on bagel, because that’s all I had in the house. Grocery shopping never happened tonight due to a meltdown because someone missed his nap and we biked outside instead of finishing the to-do list because the weather was overcast and we take what we can get here in the desert this time of year. And through the giggles and laughing, I made sure to say thank you for the house cleaning that happened earlier. And it was a night where I was barely able to get myself to bed let alone remember to wash my face or even say a prayer.

Thursday was Thursday. I screamed a profanity from my closet after stepping on a Lego building that was left there from two weeks ago. Left there by a little one who was waiting for me to finish my makeup so we could go to the park. There is something questionable on  the chair in the kitchen that needs to be cleaned up, but instead I keep passing by it hoping that the other adult that lives with me will notice it. Exhaustion is no joke. I need to remember to send off that email before they email me first and think that I forgot about it. Someone is yelling from downstairs that another someone hit them. I threw on my favorite leggings because my hair is still unwashed and makeup was not an option today, black leggings distract. The kids are with Grandma tonight. I ended up falling asleep on the couch at 9:00 after ‘totally being up for a movie night’.

Friday. My to-do list is a mile long just like every other day, but it’s the last day of Spring Break. This means the week and the weekend are blurring together and I will find myself sneaking away to play as much as I possibly can. The dishes are piled high in the sink and no one has volunteered to do them.  I just bought groceries this week, but I have a feeling at 5:00 PM I will be on the phone ordering an extra-large cheese pizza from our favorite pizza place. Who baked the cookies that I am not supposed to have? Oh well, diet starts on Monday, right?

And then there is tomorrow. A place in time that holds every possibility, every ounce of energy and every bit of soft-spoken love for each and every person around me. I don’t want to live for tomorrow, but at this time in my life… in this season of my life… I thank God if there is a tomorrow. Tomorrow is a chance for me to get it right. At least one thing, please. To speak a little nicer, to play a little harder, and maybe even get a shower. To forgive myself for not working out the day before and the opportunity to stop body shaming myself. The idea of tomorrow gets me through every mistake of today. Knowing there is a chance to start clean and better myself and things around me. And knowing there is a time to stop worrying about what people think or how my life looks to the outside world.

So while I hope to eventually be the person that can make today all that it can be, I am going to be grateful for tomorrow. And I am going to find grace in tomorrow because perfection and I broke up a long time ago.

That load in the washer is definitely going to have to be re-washed.


So one of many recommendations from my therapist to get through my personal struggles with addiction and my husband’s infidelity was for me to write every day.  The last three days I have sat down at the computer to write and I come up with nothing.rel

What I did do is start following blogs of other betrayed women.  I can feel the anger and hurt still in their words and often wonder if this is something I should be doing.”Reading it all over again, because every story is so similar to mine.”  I have started following a few ladies, some new in the process and some quite a few years into it.

I don’t find that I get mad at him again after reading the very personal stories of betrayal, but I get angry for the lovely women on here.  How can all these men treat someone like this?  How dear “they” put so many of us through this.

Life the last six month has been healing.  I maybe think about the OW once or twice a week.  He has already answered all of my questions, which was hard for me to deal with, but also a huge part of the healing process.  I found myself angriest during this time.  I couldn’t take it all at once and I think my hubby knew that.  He gave it to me in strong hard doses, every couple of days. I would lose it for two or three days and then next week we would do it again.  It was a very emotional draining few months.  I didn’t think I was going to make it.

I now find my mind now does not wonder so much anymore about the what, why, where, and how?

But it brings me to the question of monogamy.  Is it possible? I have NOT EVER CHEATED ON A PERSON IN MY LIFE.  I NEVER WILL.  That’s just me.  It’s selfish, rude, hurtful and not worth the pain.

I find in reading that it is the general consensus with the women stuck in this world of hurt. So is monogamy impossible?  What is the difference between someone like me who would never cheat (and trust me while my hubs was out of the house, I had plenty of offers) and someone who thinks its ok?

I’ve had a lot of time to really think about where we started and where we have come in this marriage. Things are better, not better like when we first met, but better than two years ago.  Communication is flowing, there is no more a blame game and we are starting to learn to love again.

A girlfriend told me the other day that I looked, we looked, so happy together.  She asked if things were back to normal.  I told her I don’t think they ever will be.  But when you think about it, if each life lesson we are given we learn from, we aren’t supposed to be the same person after. Right?

Sober first.


I spent this past weekend on vacation in Mexico. I was invited down to good old Mexico with my husband and his family to celebrate a birthday among other things.  See, here is the problem with that.  EVERY time we go down to Mexico everyone gets shit face wasted and parties into the wee hours of the night.

I remember my first visit with my now husband.  It was spring break 2009.  I was nervous to meet new people, especially people who did not speak the same language as me.  Upon arriving I found that they did indeed speak my language “Drink”.  We spent the whole weekend drinking and laughing, I even realized that most of them drank way more than me, so I didn’t feel so guarded about my drinking.  I thought I was in heaven and every trip after was the same.  Mexico was amazing…

Fast forward six years and the ride down there was nothing but pure anxiety.  My mind kept saying “Let’s have a Tecate”   I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn’t drinking. I had to remind myself that I wanted to stay in this sober club that I hear such good things about.  I had to remind myself that one beer would never be enough and I having one beer actually did not exist in my world. I was nervous to be surrounded by drinkers and have no place to escape.

Surprisingly enough, I did not need to escape so much.  I took the advice of a very knowledgeable sober pen pall and brought with me a replacement drink, Grapefruit sparkling water. My husband and I had talked before arriving and had agreed that I would not stay up all night and go to bed with the kids at a “safe place” a house where the party was not, every night.  We were a team.  He checked in on me many times and spent most of the day, when people were drinking, out together with the family running around town.  It was nice.

As I drove home I mentioned that this was the first time I had left Mexico to come home and not felt like complete shit and full of anxiety.  In all reality, the trip was quite pleasurable. It was indeed my first sober vacation.  I never in a million years thought that it was at all possible for me to go down to Mexico without having a drink.  I even thought that on the damn way down. It’s funny how your mind will try to trick you, it’s interesting how when you tune out the thoughts, they slowly start to fade away.  Bottom line, I felt like a rock star on Monday! Sober, sun, beach and fun.

Fake it until you make it?


Do you ever feel like a fake, a phony, a fraud?

I have felt that way much of my life — very much.

Today I was sitting down talking to my boss and he gave one of the biggest compliments.  He said he was speaking with upper management and they are opening a new location.  He asked who was the best to train the new office manager and without a hesitation all three of them mentioned my name. This is not the first time something like this has happened. If they only knew……

My whole life anytime I landed a new job, revived a promotion or got an award I’ve always felt that is was some sort of mistake, like an exception was made for me and that I really didn’t deserve it.  I mean come on. I wore my flaws on my sleeve and was always waiting for the powers-that-be to find out and get rid of me.

 That has actually never happened. Very few people know I’m an alcoholic. Actually, most think I don’t even drink, because I would normally only drink at night and at home. But yet it’s never calmed my fears.

Even when I received awards, positive feedback and praise, I still felt a gnawing discomfort that I just didn’t belong.

I have worried about keeping up, regularly questioned my intelligence and abilities and felt insecure all-around most of my life.

If only they knew who I really was.  All of this must be a mistake.  I’m an alcoholic, my life is a shit mess.  I barely make it to work most days and some days I have nothing to give but 50%.  Is my 50% really more than those around me? I can hardly believe that.

They say fake it till you make it.  But what if you have made it by faking it, what happens now?  What happens when I start to be my true self, will people still think I’m amazing, will they catch on that I’m struggling day by day to stay sober?  Will I slip up and actually mention my meetings, AA or sobriety?  What happens in life if you feel like you’ve faked it for the last twelve years and suddenly you have to start being yourself?