Irritating as sand in your gum

Seriously-my life! It is beyond irritating! I am irritating, my children are irritating, my husband is irritating! Everything is beyond the realm of irritating!

What does that word even mean? Causing annoyance (YES!), impatience (YES!) and mild anger (YES!). I have Webster’s covered.

So, what is so annoying? Well, all of the things I already listed. ‘Duh! What kind of annoying question is that! (See, I am really annoyed-that was my annoyance with stupidity, impatience and mild anger coming at ya!)

Also, coming home from working a full day only to find my children acting like fools in a messy house and being beyond (so much beyond in this blog!) at loose ends, aimlessly walking about the house. That ALWAYS sets me on edge-people doing nothing while trying to look busy so that you do not notice that they are actually doing nothing and tell them to do something!

So, then Beloved gets the brunt of my anger. He was the one in charge of all these guys and they just ran amok. I am livid, talking about the fact there is NO WAY IN HELL I am going to go teach virtually all day at school, come home and have to do it all here AND do all the housework, cooking, etc.

Mostly, I am just really good and pissed because my mother-in-law said off handedly the other day how much better behave my children are now that I am feeding them all organic food. WELLLLLLLL! That sounds nice…until it feels like she is saying that I suck as a mom for not having done this sooner and she is glad I have finally gotten onboard with her world. NEWSFLASH!!!! It is really hard to cook organically for a family of seven FROM SCRATCH and work full-time. The only way I could do it was thanks to COVID (silver lining).

I had planned to come home and prep up some menus and shop. Instead, I dealt with the fallout of being gone for the day. I am one pissed mama. If there was a moment to want to grab a drink out of irritation…I am feeling it tonight.

Do I suck in that I kinda threatened my husband that the kind of overwhelmed and angry feelings I was having were the exact kind that usually make me fall of into the abyss? Part of me feels like that is blackmail on him, part of it feels like it is the truth-so, if he doesn’t like an abysmal wife, he needs to handle things better while I am gone.

Whew-vent/rant/brain barf is over. I don’t feel better-but I also did not drink. Score one for me. I might feel a little less irritated…

Boarding a train bound for somewhere…

I made it through the trifecta of Thanksgiving, Christmas and even New Year’s! Wahoo! That was a real push. I have knocked out Valentine’s Day and only have St. Patty’s Day, Easter, my birthday, the LAST DAY OF SCHOOL and the 4th of July to do before I have hit my one year mark. I know…still seven months off. But, I love holidays and will forever think of the year as series of holidays. So, I am doing good and I am somewhat surprised.

You see-I am a planner big time. But, I have been thinking about it lately and of the three children I gave birth to- the easiest pregnancy by far was the one that started in total shock that I was pregnant. Complete, “Why does my coffee taste so bad and why does smoking make me want to gag?” surprised and you mentally panic about the all the drinking you have done in the last few weeks. I was fresh out of college and had just taken a road trip, hanging out in hostels and meeting lots of new friends. Needless to say, there was a lot of drinking,

But, there was a quick mental adjustment and within 24 hours, I was ready to be a mom. Seven months later-I cradled the best surprise of my life in my arms.

unexpected-love-quotes-3 It has been that way quitting drinking. I had long “planned” to quit. I would set a date and get all ready. I was sure to really binge it up the last few days-my last sips of “freedom” (WTH was I thinking? Freedom? So deluded.). The day would come and I would rock it for a solid two weeks and the the thought, “I am doing so great-see, I didn’t have a problem” would sneak in and within a day I would be back on the wild, trackless train bound for nowhere.

But this time, I just quit. I had broke my own heart and hated that I had done it to myself. I left myself twisting in the wind and I could not take it. I needed action. I had planned to quit after New Year’s, but I just could not sit with myself knowing that I was falling apart any more.

I never would have “planned” to quit the day I quit-the trifecta was looming ahead. The timing was ALL wrong. I wasn’t ready. I had no “plan” in place at all. I just jumped and hoped I would grow wings on the way down.

And DAMN-I sure am glad I did! Five months later and still sober.

Sometimes the best things in life are not planned at all.

If Only Emotions Had Brains

HELP! I am held hostage by my emotions! Seriously! They just come slamming in my perfectly calm, cool and collected mind and take me over on a whim. “I own now!” they yell at the top of their emotilungs! And I am done for. Off in a whirl of pissed off.

nature summer yellow animal — Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

That is-if I don’t recognize them for who they are-irritation, fear, anger and just plan too much sugar (I think that is an emotion-and it ain’t so sweet.)

When I recognize them, I distract myself with something else. I wonder what would happen if I just let them in, let them have their way in my head until they ran out of steam and then just showed them to door? I might have to try that.

I am feeling lots more lately. It turns out the numbing was for all my emotions. So, now I have felt all huggy too lately. That part is nice. It is letting me back into my world and I forgot how much I missed it there.

Okay. Done with this post. All emotioned out. Whew. Rode that wave.

Letting go and embracing

I have struggled with sleep-or NOT sleep for a long time now. Years. Over a decade really. Part of my journey that seems to have endless paths, entrances and exits, is to address this sleep thing. This. Sleep. Thing. Not MY sleep thing I do not want this to be a part of my life any longer. It is not MY sleep thing, MY alcohol thing, MY anxiety thing. It is just a thing. A thing I am going to be turning a focus on with daring truth.

girl sleeping on bed — Photo by Sam K on Pexels.com

When I was pregnant with my son, I went through the WORST insomnia. I ended up half crazed and pouring my heart and mind out to a priest who had also been the doctor who delivered my first child. We drove over 100 miles to see him. I sat across from him twisting a Kleenex, bloodshot eyes that were darting about like a wild animal by that point in the insomnia I am sure.

He said to me two things. 1) Take the Ambien you new doctor prescribed. 2) Just say thank you for what is in your life. Simply thank you.

I was so confused! Thank you for what? For modern medicine? I most certainly was and am! Thank you for the child who has grown into an incredible young man? That is an easy one! I did not get it. I pushed him for more.

Be thankful for even the hard part…the insomnia, the unknown, the scariness of it all and the love of people all around you. In my mad state of mind, I got it. I was in it. I was grateful. Maybe it was because those were words breathed from a holy man’s lips, but they felt solid and real when my world was melting around me. I had a moment where I felt grateful for the vulnerable exposure my sleepless nights had led me to. I could finally let lose my grip on perfection and just slip into release.

Beloved wrapped his coat around me, drove me to a pharmacy, fill my script and took me home. I laid in his arms as I finally fell into a deep, drugged sleep.

That was over a decade ago. Now, I do catch glimpses of being grateful for even those experiences that hurt or require me to expose my trembling self. Perhaps alcohol, insomnia and anxiety are all lesson it themselves. Perhaps they are MY lessons. Perhaps these really are MY things. And for them, I am grateful.

I did not know…

That I could dance sober and still kill it! Who knew? I was totally NOT interested in going out and listening to this great band because I would have to be doing it without social lubricant. Nada. Nothing. Okay-fries and a Coke. I told Beloved on the way there that I was NOT going to dance. Period. End of story. I can only handle so much. The cravings were going to be beast enough to keep in check.

woman in white sleeveless shirt gold brown leaf in front of her face — Photo by Mariana on Pexels.com

I sat like a flower at our table for the first 30 minutes feeling the flush in my cheeks of everyone staring at me as they had a good time. How that is possible, I am not sure-but in the newly sober mind, it is reality. I was just watching and absorbing what it is like to have 100 people on a tiny dance floor all at various stages of inebriation. Giggling 21s with a beer in hand boogeying like they own the place to the guy with bloodshot eyes and a tipped hat nodding along at the edge of the linoleum, barely keeping beat but at least on the dance floor. Unlike me. But watching him gaze into nothing when such a swirl of life was about him cured my cravings.

Then a slow song came on. Beloved looked at me with puppy dog eyes..he is one of those rare breeds that loves to dance. I couldn’t say no. Off we went, swaying like a couple of sweaty palmed 8th graders in a gym decorated with construction paper and helium balloons. There was a tiny moment of bliss.

Next song was a fast one-a new classic. Uptown Funk You Up! Damn-and it did! My groove thing came back and I blossomed from wall flower to owning my own little spot on the dance floor. I am thinking all my drunken nights of gyrating on dance floors in college bars, honkey tonks and legit dance clubs has created muscle memory! I just let myself go and danced. Let me be me! We danced the band to closing!

Cold fries and a warm Coke never tasted better.

Twiddling. Thumbs.

Here I am at an out-of-town conference. It is 6:00 pm after a grueling day of PowerPoint blatherings. I am in a posh hotel surrounded by tons and tons of awesome bars, pubs, eateries and entertainments. A month ago, I would have made some quick friends and joined in the revelry that abounds just outside my hotel door. Laughter, cackles and “Wait for me!” float down the hall. Wait. For. Me.

person woman hotel laptop — Photo by Stokpic on Pexels.com

I am waiting. Waiting for myself to find myself. I am waiting. I am waiting for me to become more me. I am waiting. Waiting for something that I am not really sure even exists to show herself to me. I am waiting. For. Me.

I am going to flip on some crap TV (Oh-blessed me! We do not have a TV in our home-so this is a treat!) eat the fourth cookie I smuggled out of the conference (I am giving myself until Halloween and then-that is the next area of focus. Food!) and then I am going to fall asleep. No drunken silliness with new found friends taking in all the city has to offer. No wild tales to tell in my old age (I think I may have accrued enough of those actually-see, when you drink too much it turns out you have to have WAY MORE tales because you can only remember 1% of them. Good thing I drank so much? Wait, I could have just….duh!)

BEST PART? No crawling into bed and crawling back out at 6:00 am and no eyes scrunched shut and grimaced face in the morning when I try to piece together exactly what the night had all entailed and get that wave of “Oh God” when the images flicker back into reality.

Nope. Just me, a big TV and a big cookie. Oh-and an amazing shower WITHOUT any children knocking on the door!

Good night.

PS That is NOT me in the picture. There are not nearly enough cookie crumbs for that to be me…

Shutting My Mind Up

So, today was a pretty great day by most people’s standards. I worked hard giving a presentation about the brain to a lot of teachers. 99% went GREAT! 1% did not-nothing big, just not great. Nothing that anyone else probably even took note off, just my own little internal dialog that frankly sounds like my grandmothers-neither one of which was a terribly kind or compassionate person. (Sorry Grandmas, but I am going to assume you are both in much more enlightened places now and would agree with great compassion for yourselves that this is true.)

red stop sign — Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

After my presentation, I noticed my tricky mind at play. 1) Totally thought about (HARD!) drink(s) with dinner to celebrate the success! An absolute craving. I told my husband. The Itch slunk away with its tail between its legs and stared at me the rest of dinner from across the room. “I can’t believe you really told him OUR secret…” Yep-I did and look at you stupid craving-you are all by yourself in the corner. 2) The focus in my mind is that 1-freaking %!!! Now I need some strategies to get that part of my mind to cool it. I can’t be perfect. Why do I feel such a NEED to be perfect? What is it that I am lacking? What is it that I am trying to change? This is painful. This has been life long. This, I did not deal with when I was drinking. This has got to go. This nagging voice has got to shut up in my mind. STOP!

Turns out some things don’t change…

I know I could not have possibly thought that quitting drinking would magically make all my problems disappear, but I guess I would thinking I would feel less overwhelmed by life. I have so much on plate and such a tiny fork to dig in with…

Wait, just typing those words helped release something. Yes, I have a TON to do today. Yes, it all MUST be done today. Yes, my husband is going out of town for a few days, which certainly increases the amount on my plate. BUT, I am going to be doing ALL of it with a clear head. A clear head. No swirls, no distractions.

Holy crud-I just had a thought. Maybe one of the reasons that I had been drinking WAY too much is that I secretly believe that if I do not succeed at something (like this pile of life in front of me), that I always have an excuse that I really was not trying my hardest. That I could have done more/been more if I had tried harder, but since I was drunk-well-I obviously was not trying my hardest. And therefore, if I failed it was not a real reflection of the real me.

Strange how this blogging stuff really opens my eyes at times. It is also a really good thing that I thought about this as I just signed a CONTRACT with the person I thought I had blown it with in the email weeks ago. I know for a fact I will have to be present and putting out my best to fulfill this contract. I AM SO SCARED! What if I fail?

What if I fail? What if I fail? What if I fail?

Eeck…will have to think on that one some more.

I am serene out of my mind!

Reading through some other posts on drinking and came across this phrase,

“What I use to call boredom, I now call serenity.”

Wow. That hit home. I have long said I wanted to be more calm, more present. I have long feared “boredom”. On the surface, they can look so very much alike. Internally, they are night and day. One is a panic-inducing, claw my way to fresh air feeling. The other is not. But, I realized that those feelings are a matter of perspective and perhaps the reason I do not feel calm is I do not do well feeling bored.

Calm is being here now. Serene is being here now. Bored? Is also being here now.

Dinner No Drinks

lunch — Photo by Kaboompics .com on Pexels.com

Third Friday night sober. One. Two. Three.

I decided it was time to go out in PUBLIC on a DATE with my husband and NOT DRINK. We went to our usual. I ate the usual. The swirl of people about us was the usual. The conversation was not usual.

I realized that I have been using date night as drink night-not to get closer to my husband and share out lives a little more intimately for a moment, but as an excuse to toss a few (many) back and let the world melt away. I would not be any closer to him or myself by the end of date night. I would just be numbed out-a blissful numbed out, but numbed nonetheless.

Instead, we started talking. I talked about Three and how I have finally come to realize that I just need to lay down all the guilt and worry I have surrounding the big questions that has been forcing themselves on me me relentlessly for months and months and months now about “WHY I DON’T FEEL ALL SQUISHY AND LOVEY TOWARD HER? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME AS A PERSON? AS A MOTHER? AM I DAMAGING HER? CAN SHE TELL SHE DRIVES ME CRAZY?” I have to set these questions down, just like I am setting down the vodka. I need to step back from them. Get perspective. These questions are not healthy and neither are getting me any closer to being the person I want to be.

Do not get me wrong-there is nothing “wrong” with Three. I mean, she is ADHD as all get out, never stops talking, is constantly poking her nose into all conversations and generally requires attention more often then a colicky baby. She is just a kid really (11).

That said, I am actually pretty certain the majority of the hangup in the bond I am not forming with her is coming from my end. For some reason, I am just not jelling with her-like, at all. But, as of my conversation with Beloved tonight, I am just going to put it aside. Just let it me (Mother Mary come to me…) I’ll let it be. I simply have to for awhile. It will be the healthiest thing for all of us in the Crew.

Wow….it actually feels really good just to lay it down.

Now, what to do with the rest of date night? It is only 8:00. Um….