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Posts Tagged ‘sober’

20110507 missing oak tree

I refuse to react.

I refuse to participate on any level with a bully.

I refuse to allow anyone or anything distract my father from his continued comfort, peace and healing.

Only God will guide me in my decision making.

I am strong. I am tall. I am clever. I am tenacious.

Perhaps I am a daddy’s girl after all.

 

 

 

 

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Dad's neighborhoodLast night it was my intention to shower before bed. My body begged to rest for a moment, knowing that showers are quite a work out. Not recognizing the heaviness of my daily fatigue and exhaustion, I had fallen asleep…

Early this morning I woke up on top of my bed, cold, in my robe, with the throw blanket over me and Grace sound asleep at the foot of my bed. Knowing she can be my personal feline heating pad, ever so slowly I moved my toes towards her and gently tucked them underneath her warm and cozy catness. She didn’t move or open her eyes as the sound of her distinct loud purr filled my bedroom.

I felt my spirit rise like the morning sun. My body still had not moved – yet my gratitude was overwhelming me. My true joyful spirit snuck out from me and rejoiced the sunlight coming in through my windows. I felt it in such a way as if I was watching my spirit look out of the window as it noticed the wind suddenly appear to greet the trees. A joyful feeling indeed.

Other than my toes under Grace’s black furry warm body – I had not moved. My memory dialed into two nights ago when I took my first dose of a new medicine. With in a few minutes I broke out in hives. Seriously? Hives?! The moment wasn’t about how the hives with their burning red welts felt on my body. The moment was about taking care of this nuisance. This distraction. Take care of it. Get on it. Get into action. Off to the pharmacy I went…

As much as I do get frustrated. As much as I do feel angry that my body can not do the activities that have always been a part of who I am. My spirit greeted the day rejoicing because finally, finally I know in my heart that I do indeed have many choices. More choices than I ever have been able to realise or see. Choices that I feel. Choices that make each day, each moment, the best choice that I can make in that moment.

I choose to sit down and cry. I choose to feel bummed-out knowing that I am missing yet another event. Missing another dinner party. Missing another play. I choose to feel left out or forgotten. But it is also my choice just how long I allow these things in my heart. How long do I allow this dark visit?

I did not miss out on everything!

I didn’t miss the first day my parents taught me how to swim. I didn’t miss my first boy-girl party. I didn’t miss my first kiss. I didn’t miss cheerleader tryouts. I didn’t miss my first prom. I didn’t miss being in my best friend’s wedding. I didn’t miss watching my son take his first steps. I didn’t miss any of my son’s soccer games. I didn’t miss the plane when I flew to Costa Rica to surf for 10 days. I didn’t miss my son’s high school graduation or his college graduation.

It’s endless.

The choices? Endless.

Today I’m getting a chance to find new best choices for myself as I am finding my way. Learning my capabilities. No matter what, I still can make the best choices in any situation and not miss out on any event that is my best choice. Then, and only then, will I continue to not only be joyful, but I can be victorious as well.

I will always have an opportunity directly in front of me to make my best choice. And then my reward is a heart full of gratitude and a joyful spirit that will rise to meet the sunshine of each and every morning.

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“Fibromyalgia is a pain disorder that causes widely distributed pain throughout the body. Without defining medical tests, fibromyalgia is diagnosed by evaluating symptoms, such as multiple tender points in certain muscle areas, sleep disorders and even digestive problems.  The disorder can be debilitating and treatment often consists of finding the right combination of medications, physical therapy and coping skills…”  quote found in eHow health.

Time is passing me by. I’ve found myself in survival-mode-over-kill. Did I miss out on the entire month of February?  But I’ve been quite busy!   I must remember to be grateful for what I accomplish.  I mean, who says one errand a week is not good enough?  Pusing myself to the limit:  Doctor – bed rest.  Warm bath – bed rest.  One errand – bedrest.  Shampoo hair in kitchen sink – bed rest.  Nap.  Eat.  Sleep. Nightmares.  Bed rest . . .  I take responsibility for myself more than I ever have in my life.  What I am saying is – sick girl or grateful girl – my life is my fault.

I can ask the proper questions – I feel it is ok, safe.  What can a short conversation or a short dinner with an old friend hurt?  I am finding my way as I learn to cope with different physical challenges.  Another life lesson in my new life:  a short dinner with an old friend is still allowing someone back in my life.  Not ok for the new julie.  (Damn, I miss the old julie!)  But today?  Today, some old friends do not fit into my new life.  . .  I quickly work to regain my balance.  Just like a package stamped “fragile” as it is being sent out in the world,  I too must be mindful of what I have surrounding me.

Yes, as the quote from eHealth says, “medication, physical therapy, and coping skills. . . ” they are the delicate balance needed for survival with Fibromyalgia.  The new julie.  Yes, I do indeed experience debilitating aspects of the disorder.  I also experience beautiful endless heart-felt gratitude for every life lesson.  I may indeed be a fragile package. (for now!)  But if I surround myself with protective gentle people, I will arrive to my destination whole, complete and comfortable.  I am me living my life to the best of my ability.  Being alive is what brings the gifts of soul-changing life lessons.  Being in this world brings me opportunities to help others, no matter what. It doesn’t matter how small my act of kindness may seem to me – when I am authentic – in return I become the grateful girl once more.

frag box

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At this moment in time I am overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude for my continued sobriety. I feel I am one of the lucky ones.  I’ve worked hard at staying sober – yet I feel lucky.  Another sober anniversary is just around the corner.  August 2nd.  Whew.   I’ve felt a deeper level of gratitude for my sobriety since I was finally diagnosed with Fibromyalgia.  I do admit that the past few years have been an arss kicker – but the beautiful thing is – I’m doing it.  I’ve learned at a deeper level that keeping my focus on just what is in front of me is helpful.  I do my best to look at what is in front of me so it takes at least some of my focus off of my chronic pain.  I am on my way right now to my first appointment at The Pain Center that my doctor set up for me. . . . I can do this one moment at a time.  No one said I had to do it gracefully.  I’m simply doing the very best that I can.

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It is the beginning of a holiday weekend.  Memorial Day weekend 2010.  A reason to party.  An excuse to drink.  But not any more, not for me anyway.  In the last 22 years, I never woke up in the morning and wished I drank the night before.  I have lived the past 22 years as a sober single mother to my son.  Today, I hold my head high.  I stand up straight.

What happened and what I used to do, or not do, no longer defines the woman I have become today.  When I write about my old days, it is as if I am speaking of someone else.  And perhaps I am.  I used to be incredibly uncomfortable not only with the memory of my behavior, but also what I thought of myself.  Especially on August 1st, 1987.  It was my worst day.  It also happened to be my 30th birthday.  It fell on a Sunday.  So,  just like the beginning of this  holiday weekend, I granted myself my personal holiday weekend and used my 30th birthday as an excuse – a reason to party.  A reason to numb my feelings. . . .

 Please click on the “about” tab above to read about me and how I got here.   More importantly I would love to hear from you.  Single sober parenting can be hard!  Heck – married not drinking parenting is hard too!  It is not a coincidence that you found my sober single parent Blog.  I understand the heartache, cravings, remorse, sleepless nights, anger, no help, fear and anxiety of divorce and getting sober when children are involved.  We owe it to our children.  They do not want to have drunk parents, even when they are not around.  I lived it sober with my son.  I highly recommend it, even though it can seem to be too much and overwhelming at times.  When I first quit drinking, I suddenly became horribly claustrophobic.  Elevators, the windows rolled up in my car, on an airplane – I’d suddenly have a hard time breathing and then become dizzy.  Heart pounding out of my chest.  I could not believe what was happening to me – until I learned it was my body reacting to life with out my coping skill of  my beloved alcohol.  (“That’s it.  I’m crazy.  I’m nuts.”, I’d say to myself). Even though it is a rough road, every bump along the way is bringing us closer to finding inner comfort.  I am a late bloomer.  I did not know that alkies must talk to alkies.  Alcoholics talk about things differently and feel things differently than “normal” drinkers.  We truly are mentally and bodily different from our fellows with our obsession of the mind and allergy of the body.  Our delicate balance of mind, body and spirit.  We are a colorful breed of Earth People!  We are awesome!  (And just a little eccentric).  Small things effect our self-worth differently than our non-alkie friends.  My experience in my 22 years sober is that certain things do not go as deep or last as long now.  Sometimes, not drinking and admitting we are alcoholic is not easy!  Now, combine this with being a single parent?!

I have found that the best medicine is to seek out another alcoholic, someone like us, and talk about it!  You are not alone.  Having a hard time being comfortable in your sober parent skin?  Looking for a support group? (I understand it all – I’ve been there)  Are you loving it? (I’ve been there too!)  I still remind myself that I never woke up in the morning and wished I drank the night before.  . . . . I will write again in a couple of days, I look forward to it, I hope you join me. . . . . .

 peace and luv ~ jules

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