July 5, 2005


  "WE will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace."
Serene: quiet, calm, tranquil, peaceful; four adjectives that, in NO way, would have been used to describe me four years ago. The Big Book promises some wonderful things for those of us who work the Steps honestly, humbly, and thoroughly, and continue to practice the principles described in those Steps.

  Those promises are to numerous to cover in one Muse, and I will definitely talk about the others in the coming days, but today this one came to me as I sat outside after my children left for home. I just let out a big "ahhhhhhhhh" and drank in the memory and sensation of the moment.

  I felt so peaceful and serene. That promise has been fulfilled. It didn't happen overnight, that's for sure, but the Book doesn't promise that. This disease isn't something you can slap a Band-Aid on and go your merry little way. It takes thousands and thousands of invisible sutures to repair the damage our drinking caused.

  Today I am grateful for peace of mind, peace of heart, and peace of Spirit.

July 6, 2005


  "No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others."

  If that scale is a 1 to 10, then morally and ethically, I bottomed out around 3. Physically I fell to 2, and emotionally and spiritually, I sunk to zero. Still, the Big Book promised that I would still be able to help another alcoholic, and I believe that promise has been fulfilled.

  By the same token, I have benefited others who have helped me. Alcoholics Anonymous gives new meaning to the phrase, "what goes around, comes around." I have gained knowledge and wisdom from others in the program, no matter how far down the scale they sank, and in turn, I have been able to pass that along. It's like a really cool virus. We just keep spreading it to each other; passing it back and forth.

  Today I am grateful for contagious alcoholics.

July 7, 2005


  Hello All you Beautiful Women. I'm still groovin' on these Promises....they are SO awesome!

  "That feeling of uselessness and self-pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away."

  Wow, I don't know where to start----that has been fulfilled for me too. In my drinking, I didn't care about anyone. Even my own precious children came after alcohol. So did my cats, dogs, husband, and hygiene--- in that order! I did feel useless and I literally wallowed in self-pity because nobody understood me. If only they would have just tried to have some compassion. If only they hadn't made everything so complicated and difficult.

  And self-seeking? Shoot, I wrote the book on that one. I was always looking out for Number One. I was the star of the show and the entire family would fall apart without me and my wisdom. I was the do-all, be-all, and know-all. Sheesh! What a crock of hooey. I was a fraud and a hypocrite.

  Getting out of myself and gaining interest in others has opened up my world, broadened my humanitarian horizons, and brought me more joy than I can express. What a small, pathetic isolated world I lived in as a drunk, and what a miracle my life is now. I'm as happy as a pig in a puddle.

  Today I am grateful I'm just a goose in the flock; honking, flapping, and headed in the right direction. (thanks Teresa....that ending is for you)

July 8, 2005


  "Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change."

  Now that is a glorious Promise! I have definitely experienced the fulfillment of that one. Chuck C. said it best--we will be looking at the world through a new pair of glasses. I don't know if those were his exact words, but I hope it's close enough. It is the perfect description of Life in AA.

  I have lost my negativity and cynicism. I am no longer pessimistic and crabby every single day. I am overwhelmed with gratitude. My anxiety and panic attacks vanished. I rarely have days where I hide from the world, pulled into my shell like a frightened and angry turtle. That served a dual purpose; it protected me from the outside world and kept me from doing damage to "them," those phantom persecutors who were out to get me.

  The world is prettier, kinder, and interesting. I am discovering beauty and fun I never knew existed because everything was ugly through my intoxicated eyes. My booze-soaked brain was a labyrinth of unpleasant and offensive thoughts and visions.

  Today I am grateful for my "new pair of glasses."

July 9, 2005


  "Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us."

  OK, since this is a program of rigorous honesty, I can only say that I have made progress toward the fulfillment of this Promise. More than a smidgen but less than a lot.

  Without alcohol coursing through my bloodstream, I suddenly found myself tongue-tied for 'twas booze that loosened my lips. Once again, I was that shy, awkward child with no self-esteem or confidence. Sharing at meetings for probably the 1st year caused my heart to race. I feared I would sound like the village idiot.

  That has improved as I develop my confidence and worth, but equally important, I know that sharing my experience, strength, and hope is a vital part of my recovery, and the recovery of others, so that is a motivating force in losing my fear of people.

  As for economic insecurity, I still fear that and it is an irrational fear. My loony tune mind tries to script-write on occasion, running scenarios through my head that come from that cold, dark place in my memory banks. "What if my husband leaves me? What if I kick him out? What will I do, how will I figure out the finances when he took everything away 10 years ago because I wasn't capable of handling it?" I don't see much of anything. He gets the bills from the mailbox and takes them to his office where he keeps our checkbook. I feel very insecure about that.

  So no, I can't lie about that Promise, but I'm grateful I have it to look forward to.

July 10, 2005


  "We will intuitively know how to handle situations that used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves." ( I had to do that from memory because my spoiled, princess cat, Scully, is sleeping on my Big Book and looks much too cute to disturb. I hope it's correct)

  Oh Yes! That one is awesome! I have seen it, felt it, heard it, experienced it, lived it, loved it, and basked in it. Family confrontations use to baffle me, especially the ones between my grown son and daughter. As a drinker, I only made matters worse with my inept, inadequate, and insane interference. My husbands behavior used to baffle me, but God is handling his tantrums, at least 90% of the time. The other 10% is when I take over and end up baffled again.

  You know, the first time I did a 3rd Step, it was pure lip service. It wasn't honest or sincere. Months went by and I just couldn't figure out why those baffling situations were still baffling until I did a real 3rd Step. Lo and behold, the Promise started coming true. I was like Horton the second time around, you know--the elephant who sat on Lazy Maisy's egg? "I meant what I said and I said what I meant--It works if you work it 100%." My apologies to the late Dr. Seuss for changing that around to suit me.

  I am grateful today for the Promises fulfilled.

July 11, 2005


  "We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness."
 
  Yes, that's the beginning of the Promises, but I saved it for last because it's my favorite. A new freedom and a new happiness. I am out of bondage. I am no longer enslaved and chained to a bottle of whiskey. I am more joyful than I ever dreamed possible. The July 4th Muse covered freedom pretty well, so I'll focus on happiness.

  Happily: luckily; in a happy manner or state; aptly, successfully.
  Happiness: a state of well-being and contentment; pleasurable satisfaction.
  Happy: fortunate, pleasant, gratified, cheerful, lighthearted, joyous.

  That is the order those words are listed in the dictionary, followed by happy-go-lucky, (carefree) and happy hour--a period of time when the price of drinks at a bar is reduced. Now isn't that funny and ironic? Now that I have surrendered to this disease, found God, found AA, and discovered happiness, that "happy hour" elicits a big guffaw and harumph from me. No hour I ever drank was happy hour. For alcoholics, it should be called "cheating, bleeding, defeating, mad, sad, bad, lying, crying, dying hour."

  I spent a lot of time during my drinking career trying to convince myself and everyone else that I was happy. I'll use Dr Seuss again since a line of his just bounced off my cerebrum or my medulla oblongata or something. "I said and said and said those words-- I said them but I lied them." That's from "What Was I Scared Of?"

  I am grateful today that I can say I am happy and know what it truly means, since I have felt the extreme opposite of that emotion. That, of course, would be "pitiful, incomprehensible, demoralization."

July 12, 2005

  "We had to see that every time we played the big shot, we turned people against us. We had to see that when we harbored grudges and planned revenge for such defeats, we were really beating ourselves with the club of anger we had intended to use on others."

  Revenge--what an ugly emotion. I was the Mistress of Revenge when I drank. I wreaked havoc, threw tantrums, hurt the people I loved the most, and I hated them for making me do it. I couldn't even begin to count the times I thought of, or threatened suicide. Sometimes I even created an elaborate scheme in my head that went something like this:

  I'm not leaving my dogs and cats behind with that hateful husband of mine. I'll get them all in the garage with me (that's 5 dogs and 5 cats---picture that and try not to laugh) and start the car. The cats will go to sleep first-- should I use the pet carriers? Should I give them a Sominex or something? Of course the roar of the engine will frighten them, but I'll keep them as calm as I can. Lordy, I wish I had some tranquilizers! I'll show that bastard. He'll be sorry when he comes home and finds us. He'll spend the rest of his life in anguish and guilt.

  Truth is, he probably would have felt really bad about the animals, and cursed me and my insanity, but I think after he got over that, he'd throw a big party and dance around singing, "Ding dong the Witch is dead." Oh, The drama I created! Even after I got sober I cast him as the bad guy in my mental scripts. I'd wail "I can't do this and live with you! I'm the dynamite and you're the fuse! You're my trigger! And I acted it out in magnificent Scarlet O'Hara fashion.

  Mercy sakes! I am deliriously grateful today that I didn't commit pet genocide. Knowing me, I would have chickened out after they were all dead and continued with my "suicide on the installment plan."
 

July 13, 2005


  I sure have lost a lot since I came to AA. I've lost most of my fear; I've lost selfishness, dishonesty, self-loathing, shame, guilt, hatred, anger, loneliness, sorrow, and more things than I can name in one sitting.

  For every Step I've taken on this wondrous journey of recovery and sobriety, I have been given incredible and amazing gifts to replace the things I lost. Honesty, humility, compassion, love, joy, freedom, cherished friends, self-worth, self-respect, serenity, integrity, and so much more. The list of treasures and pleasures I've have miraculously received would take a week's worth of Muses to list.

  I always thank God every morning for the previous day's sobriety. I then thank Him for allowing me to wake up that day and have another day of life to give back what I have been given.

  Even if I live to be 147, it won't be long enough to give back what I have received.

  I am grateful I had today.

July 14, 2005


  "Sanity is defined as soundness of mind. Yet no alcoholic, soberly analyzing his destructive behavior, whether the destruction fell on the dining-room furniture or his own moral fiber, can claim soundness of mind for himself."

  In 1986, I destroyed a car while driving drunk. I broke windows, smashed dishes, beat people up, and wore it all like a badge of courage.

  My moral fiber suffered its share of destruction as well. I did some despicable and unspeakable things while I was drinking. I have shared before that once we get enough fermented poison in our systems, we cross that point of no return, and logic, intelligence, morals, ethics, and common sense are just words in a dictionary; they mean nothing to us.

  Getting beyond the guilt and shame of my destructive behavior was quite the hurdle, but once I cleared it, I was on my way to repairing the damage and restoring peace to my heart and soul.

  Today I am grateful I am of sound mind. My body, on the other hand, is not cooperating. Food meant nothing to me when I was drinking and I have been making up for lost time since I got sober.

  Gee, I wonder if there's any pie left.

July 15, 2005


  "What lies behind us, and what lies before us, are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

  I was impressed by that quote many years ago, but coming to AA has given it a new and wonderful meaning. I found within me the desire to stop drinking. Also within me, I have discovered a willingness to stay stopped, and to "completely give myself to this simple program" to insure that I do.

  The past that lies behind me need not step on the joy of this moment, nor can it weaken the strength and hope I have uncovered and released from within.

  What lies before me is inconsequential to what I feel inside today. What lies before me is the future and I am living my life "one day at a time." If I persevere on this journey and focus on what is within, I need not fear the future.

  The past and future are "tiny matters" compared to the peace that now resides in my heart in place of unrest; the dignity that superseded the shame in my soul and the tranquility that replaced the chaos in my mind.

  Today I am grateful for what lies within me.

July 16, 2005


  This Magic Carpet Ride called Life is a trip I would have missed had I stayed hidden from the world in a bottle. It has presented me with many miracles, the first one being a resurrection for me.

  I came from a cold, empty, lonely place to be where I am today. I am alive, content, and serene, and that is truly a miracle.

  Today I was given a gift that is more miraculous than mere words can describe, but I shall try.

  I was privileged to view a 4D ultrasound of my grandson, who nestles in my daughter's womb at this moment. He is about 2 months away from entering this world, I drank in the wondrous joy of his sugar lips and adorable nose; his wee fingers and precious toes. I watched him smile and move his arms and legs. He is a 2 and a half pound package of perfection.

  I gasped and sighed and marveled and cried. I felt the presence of my God in that room and in that womb. It was, without a doubt, the most joyous, poignant, amazing, incredible, spiritual moment of my life. I was humbled and honored.

  Today I am grateful for miracles.

July 17, 2005


  Slumberjacks, Happy Jacks, and Crappy Jacks---that's what I drank the last decade of my drinking career, for the most part. I made them all the same way-- I'd take a 20 oz. tumbler, fill it 3/4 of the way full with Jack Daniels, then top it off with ginger ale. No ice though, it made speed drinking too difficult, plus it diluted the drink.

  I settled on that drink of choice after 2 decades of trials and errors, during which time I was building up quite a tolerance for booze. "Some of the methods we have tried" is what the book says, and I tried 'em all and them some.

  I tried beer, but it took too many to get me drunk and made me too full. Wine was in there somewhere, however mine didn't require a corkscrew in the early days so it gave me some humdinger headaches. Then came the foo-foo drinks; foxy ladies, grasshoppers, fuzzy navels, sloe gin fizzes, etc. Yuk and Ugh. Tequila kicked my hiney a few times---well, we won't even go there.

  Finally, I settled on Jack Daniels, hence the "Jack" drinks. Depending on what kind of mood I was in when I started, that determined the Happy, Crappy, and Slumber part. Needless to say, my 6 year downhill spiral that brought me to the "bitter end" didn't find me consuming too many Happy Jacks.

  Today, I don't know Jack, but I'm overwhelmingly grateful for that.

July 18, 2005


  "There is no more 'aloneness' with that awful ache, so deep in the heart of every alcoholic that nothing, before, could ever reach it. That ache is gone and never need return again.

  Now there is a sense of belonging, of being wanted and needed and loved. In return for a bottle and hangover, we have been given the Keys of the Kingdom." (Big Book, p. 312)

  That awful ache; how well I remember. I hope I always remember. I don't ever have to feel that ache anymore if I stay close to this program, the fellowship, the Steps. I have filled that empty void in my heart. I walk through this life now with trusted and treasured friends, never to be alone and lonely as long as I live, unless I make the choice to drink again.

  I belong now; I'm no longer an outcast, a bitter, angry hermit. To be wanted, needed, and loved was all I ever really longed for, and there were those who claimed to do so, but it was not real because I wasn't real. You can't love a ghost, and that's all I was, the living dead. You can't love someone who doesn't love themselves, and I didn't. It wasn't their fault, I misrepresented myself, I was dishonest. They tried to love the woman I once was, or the one they wanted me to be. I couldn't accept love because I felt I wasn't worthy of it.

  Now I hold the Keys to the Kingdom, and I'm grateful for every door, heart, and mind they have opened.

July 19, 2005


  "On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We consider our plans for the day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest, or self-seeking motives. " (Big Book, p. 86)

  I can't begin to tell you how much this has helped me in my sobriety. Did I do it right away? No way, no how. It has been, and will always be "progress not perfection."

  After my pink cloud wore off, I found myself slipping back into old behavior patterns; temper tantrums at home, sarcasm, cynicism, and negativity. I was memorizing chunks of the Big Book, going to meetings, and working the Steps. However, I was mostly talking the talk and not walking the walk.

  Needless to say, I was not a happy camper. I realized it was my own hypocrisy, combined with lack of humility that was holding me back and bringing me down. My insides were clashing with my outsides like a plaid skirt with a polka-dot blouse.

  Incorporating the aforementioned paragraph into my morning prayer puts me in a positive and humble frame of mind before I begin my day, and makes me consciously aware of those dangerous pitfalls.

  I'm grateful that the Big Book doubles as a prayer guide. Here is a typical morning prayer of mine, after my gratitude prayers--all borrowed from the Big Book:

  God, give me the knowledge of your will for me today and the power to carry it out. Please help me to not be dishonest or self-seeking today. Help me to not indulge in self-pity. Grant me strength as I go out from here to do thy bidding. Thy will be done, Amen.
 

July 20, 2005


  I've mused on this subject before, but since it has been on my mind today, I'll muse on it some more.

  There is a story in the Big Book in which the author talks about living their life with the feeling of impending doom. I too, had the Chicken Little Syndrome from my teenage years on, and it only worsened after my younger brother was killed when I was 19 and he was four years younger.

  I anguished inside and sometimes aloud about the next sucker-punch to my gut. I remember lying in bed one night and telling my husband I was certain I wouldn't live to see my 30th birthday. Of course, I was a practicing alcoholic then, so the disease was already spreading its doom and gloom throughout my head and heart.

  My daughter was born when I was 17, and my son 5 years later. I worried about them incessantly and irrationally until I came to AA. I just knew I'd lose one or both of them. When they were old enough to drive, I wore a path in our sidewalk out front, usually drunk, waiting for them to get home. My mind played out horrifying car accidents as I paced, and I wondered how I would get through the tragedy.

  When my husband was late, I did the same thing. I pictured him lying in a heap of tangled metal on the road somewhere, dying and probably making proclamations to a stranger who had stopped to help. He'd say "tell my wife I love her and I'm sorry I treated her badly." Then, when he got home unscathed, instead of being relieved, I'd be furious and start a fight with him for making me worry.

  It's amazing how that fear evaporated (mostly) when I completed the Steps and turned my life over to God. I am grateful today to be a Goosey Loosey instead of a Chicken Little.

July 21, 2005


  "Sobriety must live a life of its own. I cannot allow my sobriety to become dependent on these ups and downs of living." (Big Book, p. 451)

  That is wise advice. If I let the ups and downs of living make or break my sobriety, I would have broken by now. My relationship with my husband has been up and down more times than a roller coaster these last three years and ten months. "I will not let him step on my joy" is chanted like a mantra around here by me more often than I would like.

  There is a wise woman in my Home Group who says we can live and be reasonably happy with a broken heart and I am living proof of that. It breaks my heart to see my husband holding on to his anger and pain. It festers in him like a malignant cancer. There are periods of remission, but it always comes back.

  He has built a wall of bitterness around his heart that I have yet to penetrate. I have tried to tear down that wall a day at a time, to no avail. I continue to make living amends to him and that's all I can do. My prayer for him is to let the past go and release his anger and resentment, but he is the wall builder and the keeper of the gate. He has posted a 'No Trespassing' sign and I am not allowed to enter. He erected that barrier for self-protection many years ago and I suppose he doesn't feel safe enough yet to disassemble it.

  My sobriety is at the top of my priority list and I must let it live a life of its own, away from the discord and distress of everyday problems, trials, and woes. If I can do that, I can continue to be a Happy Alcoholic.

  This too shall pass, and for that I am grateful.

July 22, 2005


  First, I want to make a correction to yesterday's Muse. Angel Pat says we can be sober and reasonably happy even if we have a broken heart. Amen, Pat.

  My heart and prayers go out to Debbie, who probably is sitting at her son's bedside right now, while he is hospitalized with a collapsed lung. I know she is flexing her faith muscles again, just as she did when this happened the first time. She needs all our prayers.

  The Big Book advises us "never to pray for our own selfish ends." I read early in my sobriety somewhere that "God is not a cosmic bellboy" and many of us used Him that way; I know I did, even though I proclaimed myself an agnostic.

  I pray today for many people, but seldom for myself. I do pray for guidance, and the right words to say. I also pray for the right tone of voice, for I have been criticized by friends and family in the past for "sounding" defensive or harsh. I pray for peace and harmony in my home and heart. I figure those prayers fall under "we may ask for ourselves, however, if others will be helped."

  Yesterday I wrote of the ups and downs in my marriage, (and I could have added loop-DE-loops to that) but today it seems trivial compared to a mother keeping vigil by her son's side, her heart in anguish, wishing she could trade places with him.

  Today I am grateful for women like Debbie, who inspire me with strength and courage.

July 23, 2005


  Another long day of baby-sitting, 13 hours. The kids I sit are 6 and a half and 5, and they're not related to me by blood, but are grandchildren of my heart. I've been sober almost 4 years and have watched them since they were 6 weeks old. I'm sure you're all mathematically astute enough to have figured out I watched them while deep in my disease. I never drank while they were here -God, how I wanted to- but I always had my hand on the bottle as soon as their car backed out of my driveway at the end of the day and was well on my way to being drunk within an hour after they left.

  I was sitting out back a while ago reflecting on how different it is when they're here now; how much joy they bring me; how I'm sad to see them leave at day's end; how alive and worthy I feel once they're gone......I'm tired, but not the same way. It's not a chore, it's a gift. I feel good; I feel blessed.

  I made amends to their Mama when I first came to AA. She's been like family since she dated my son in high school. I told her the truth and apologized for my deception. I gave her the option of finding a new sitter, but she just hugged me and said "Why would I want to do that? I love you, the kids love you."

  Today they told me how much they loved coming here and why. I didn't ask or prompt them, it just came out of the blue. Ethan, the oldest, said "you have soft blankets, we have fun, and you make good food." Eden said, "I like coming here because you're beautiful and nice."

  Beautiful and nice. Who'd a thunk it?

  Today I'm grateful that sobriety has transformed ugly and mean to beautiful and nice.

July 24, 2005


  "We trust infinite God rather than our finite selves." (Big Book,
Page 68)
 

   Finite: having definite or definable limits; having a limited nature or existence
Infinite: boundless, limitless, endless, vast, immense, inexhaustible.

  OK, if you had any sense at all, which would you choose? Well, when I was drinking, I trusted my finite self. That's why I was limited in all aspects of my life. My existence itself was limited. I was incapable of managing my life. The only thing I was interested in managing was the supply of booze and I didn't want any limits on that.

  Trusting in an infinite God seems like a no-brainer, but when your brain cells are fermented and pickled, you ARE a no-brainer. My finite self kept me caged like a pacing tiger. I was shackled to the bottle and tethered to my addiction. My horizons were not any broader than a tongue depressor.

  My God has no limits. His love and energy are inexhaustible. Trusting in myself, or trusting Him is like comparing a grain of sand to a million galaxies---or as Buzz Lightyear likes to say, "To infinity and beyond!" That's how big He is.

  "In God we trust." I've seen it on our money all my life, but never has that phrase been more meaningful than it is today. I am grateful to see that phrase every time I put a dollar in the basket. It is the perfect reminder for an alcoholic like me.

July 25, 2005


  Most of you know I sing every Sunday at the church service for residents of an assisted living facility called Hallmark. I have grown so fond of the elders there. They have a childlike honesty and humility, and they are grateful for life's simple pleasures. I feel truly blessed to bring songs of joy to them, to hear them sing along to the old hymns, and I embrace and kiss each and every one of them before I leave.

  In less than 20 minutes, I will be 51 years old. It is close to midnight as I write this. Today, the residents sang Happy Birthday to me at the end of the service. I was so touched by their sweetness and love. My sister, who sings there with me, had told them my birthday was tomorrow, and they planned the song ahead of time.

  One of the women asked me how old I'd be as I hugged her good-bye. I said 51, and she said "Well, you're a youngun--you're just gettin' started." Little did she know how true those words are to me today. I'm just getting started. Every birthday I've had sober has been a blessing and a miracle.

  Today I am grateful for sober birthdays. I feel younger today than when I got sober. New life has been infused in my heart and soul. That is a priceless gift.

 

July 26, 2005



  It has been a roller coaster day. The day began with a sweet Step-Sister calling me and singing Happy Birthday. For the next few hours, I received phone calls and e-mails from my Home Girls and Step-Sisters, wishing me Happy Birthday. I was high on love. Then my tram plummeted to the bottom faster than I could say Yikes! when I headed out the door for the noon meeting.

  The proverbial poop hit the fan when the ongoing grudge my husband has been nursing for 3 weeks came to an explosive conclusion. I sat and listened for a few minutes, then I thought in my mind, "that's all I can stands and I can't stands no more." I have eaten humble pie for almost 4 years and I have tried kindness, tolerance, and love with him. I've bitten my tongue until it bled, to no avail.

  So I lost it. I erupted like Mount St. Helens. The valve on my pressure cooker shot off the pot and the anger spewed forth until he was drenched and speechless.

  When I was spent, I began to sob uncontrollably, and I'm not a crier. He came and put his arms around me and kept repeating "I'm sorry." Then he asked what he could do, to which I replied in broken, hitching sobs-- "I juh juh just wah wah want you to be nuh nuh nice."

  And he was---all day long. I was Queen for a Day. He brought me coffee--hot for the first half of the day, and wonderfully yummy iced coffee the 2nd half, with hazelnut syrup and whipped cream--ooh la la; he gave me a full body massage with no strings attached (if you get my drift); he took me to lunch and shopping; and he took me to dinner.

  I don't know if my reaction was wrong, most would say yes it was-- and I'm not suggesting that behavior to anyone as a solution. I'm just musing over it--that's what I do.

  I sure am grateful for the blessed peace that filled my heart and home today.

July 27, 2005



  One more episode in the Desperate Housewives and Jackass series and I promise I'll call it a wrap. This is the season finale.

  First, let me clarify that the dam that burst from within me yesterday was not a personal attack on my husband. It was pent-up frustration, anger, and pain that I had to express. I needed him to know that my feelings were valid and deserved to be honored. I told him I could no longer be mocked and ridiculed. There was more, but that's the gist and I don't want to write a novel here. What it accomplished, though I didn't plan the whole scene out as I would have in my drinking days, was to finally open his eyes and heart and see how much pain I was in. He could not easily dismiss it, as is his habit, and he knew it was real.

  Secondly, I have spent some time pondering my part in all of it, as the Big Book instructs me. I realize that it doesn't behoove me to play amateur psychiatrist in this relationship, and I am guilty of that. Even worse, I tell him my diagnosis, which is never well received.

  My husband speaks a different language than me. I love the way he talks---he says things like "I'm so tard, it's been a long day," and "I'm fixin' to build a far in the farplace," and "my Grampa used to drank hair ohl." (his grampa was an alcoholic, by the way) Anyway, he feels woefully inadequate in expressing himself to me, not that I'm the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I LOVE words! It pleases me to find the perfect word; that word that's wedged somewhere in a cranial cavity, just waiting for me to extract it and put it to use.

  I reckon ( I am borrowing from his dictionary just to be cute) I am doing a mini- 4th Step with all of you when I say I consciously contribute to his feelings of inadequacy by saying things I know he doesn't understand any more than I would understand him if he explained the workings of a car engine to me. I shall try to be more considerate in the future.

  Now, to make a long Muse longer, I am going to share with you the verse from the birthday card he gave me, and I'll preface it by telling you what he said when he gave it to me. He said: "I can't think up the words to say how I feel, but I searched through all the cards til I found this one because it says it all.

  Here's the verse: From the moment I saw you, I wanted to meet you. From the moment I met you, I wanted to know you. From the moment I knew you, I was in love with you. From the moment I loved you, I wanted to share my life with you.....and from that moment to this moment, and for all the moments to come, I will love you with all my heart.

  Today I am grateful for the romantic soul who spoke for my husband.

July 28, 2005


  We've all heard there is strength in numbers, and I am discovering how true that is on my journey through sobriety. It seems the more women I surround myself with, the stronger I feel. I commented to several Sisters recently that as the Circle grows, we grow.

  Isolation was my lifestyle the last 6 years of my drinking. It was in those final and darkest years, that I was utterly and completely alone and lonely. Yes, it was my choice. I had one true friend and that was my whiskey bottle. I didn't need you; I didn't need my husband and kids; I didn't need anybody. I pushed everyone out and away, disproving the adage that misery loves company.

  Today, I am reveling in the delightful knowledge that I don't ever have to be alone again. I cherish the women in my life. We have formed deep and lasting bonds with each other. Our laughter with and at each other is healing and uplifting.

  You take a large group of women in any other setting, and I guarantee there will be claws out and fur flying. There will be gossip when they part---"Oh my God! Did you see what she was wearing? Did you hear that her husband was having an affair with her best friend? She thinks she's all that and a bag of chips doesn't she?" Yup.....been there and done that!

  Today I am grateful for my network of support. They are on the same road I am---the "road of happy destiny." If one of us has a flat, the others come and change it; if one is lost, someone gives direction; if someone runs out of gas, help is on the way. We're like Triple A in Double A, and that is pretty darn cool.

July 29, 2005


  "Keep It Simple."

  My life is so much better when I whittle it down to choosing right over wrong and good over bad. Man, you just can't make it any simpler than that. I'm so bad about analyzing and scrutinizing everything---flogging a deceased equine, you might say.

  I heard when I came into AA that the only difference between a pit bull and an alcoholic is that the pit bull knows when to let go. Words of wisdom.

  Now about sex. Whoa Nelly, you say! Where'd that come from? Well, I wanted to ease you in, get you reading and sneak it in when you weren't looking.

  Some of us struggle with our significant others when it comes to intimacy after sobriety. Our behavior when drinking may have been deviant or morally questionable. I was a pretty uninhibited drunk, but my libido went la-byebye for a while when I stopped drinking.

  I had to start all over---from scratch. I didn't know how to have intimacy without liquor, and in my mind, sex and booze were conjoined twins.

  I had also fallen into that same trap many women do; I sought love of self through the love of another (credit the Phab Phoenix for sharing that gem with me) and learning to love myself was a prerequisite to rediscovering love and passion with another.

  Today I am grateful it's progress not perfection.
 

July 30, 2005


  "Are the stones properly in place? Have we skimped on the cement put into the foundation? Have we tried to make mortar without sand?" (Big Book, page 77)

  I saw a movie with Clint Eastwood once in which he picked up his daughter from his ex-wife's house for visitation. His character, I believe, was a reporter, and he was in hot pursuit of a story, so he told his daughter their adventure for the day was going to be "speed zoo." She was a toddler and he pushed her stroller through the zoo at a breakneck pace, which ultimately resulted in a spill. He returned the child to her mother all skinned up.

  Trying to rush through the Steps will also have disastrous results. If patience is a virtue, then we better darn well be as virtuous as we can be. Here's an interesting little footnote; one of the definitions in the dictionary for virtue is chastity (in women, it adds). Yeah right.....tell that to the 13th-Steppers who don't give a tinker's damn about virtue.

  Sorry.....I'm off my soapbox now. Where was I? Oh yes---thorough, searching, and fearless, not to mention honest and humble, are key words to remember when building our foundation. Shortcuts might seem like a good idea at the time, and your house might stand for a few years, but let one big, bad wolf drop by, and you may become a ham sandwich. Don't use wood or straw--make sure you have the right mortar mix and get all those bricks in place. Use plenty of cement----extra bags if you want. If you build a strong, sturdy foundation, it will be your sanctuary from the outside world and the inside you, withstanding storms and wolves alike.

  Today I am grateful that, though not chaste by any stretch of the imagination, my foundation has yet to crumble.

 

July 31, 2005


  I haven't yet Mused with you about the woman who gave birth to me. I call her Doris. I haven't spoken to her in about 2 years. My therapist calls this "detachment." I don't hate her, (Doris, not my therapist) but I don't love her either; in fact, I really don't like her much at all, but I wish her no harm or ill will. We never bonded, she and I, and I grew up feeling and knowing something important was missing between us.

  She never hugged or kissed me and never told me she loved me. She is now, and has always been, extremely self-absorbed. She whipped us regularly, belittled and berated us, and made it clear we were a burden, not a blessing. She is very negative, loves to gossip--even about her own children and grandchildren, and wallows in self-pity. Her motives are selfish and self-seeking.

  You've no doubt figured out by now that she's an alcoholic. She's been dry for 15 years or so, but she's still an unpleasant person to be around. I value my serenity and contentment too much to subject myself to her dysfunction, malice, and ugliness.

  I am no longer resentful about my unhappy childhood, but what she did, and more importantly, what she didn't do, is not OK. It was wrong, and to pretend as though it never happened, would be the same as condoning it, and I can't do that. I forgave her, for my own peace of mind, but I can't manufacture love for someone on the basis of blood ties. She was merely an incubator, never a mother.

  I have reached a point in my sobriety where I don't even feel the need to apologize for my feelings, or lack thereof, for the woman who birthed me. It is what it is.

  Today I am grateful for my AA family, and for the women who have nurtured me. The ties that bind the tightest aren't necessarily found in DNA.