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.

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….

Dirt Bags on Ten Fingers

“I am LIVID!” I slammed myself onto my mother’s couch. “Those dirt bag asshole neighbors have screwed us again!”

They have been dirt bag asshole neighbors for ten years. That is not new. Some people just are.

What is new is the fact I could label my feeling (LIVID! FREAKING TWISTING IN THE WIND ANGRY!) instead of just being pissed and getting drink.

Wow. An emotion. A “big one” as I say to my kids. I rode it out. And then I realized that if I had to count how many dirt bags I have known in my life that have had any real impact on my life, I could do it in fewer than ten fingers. That…that felt really awesome and turned my anger inside out.

Dirt bags attract dirt bags. So glad I know so few.

Pink?

Screen Shot 2018-10-08 at 8.17.49 PM

GAH!!!! I am not sure what I feel. I kinda feel like I always wished I could feel-happy like I as two drinks into a good evening with friends-but without the drinks. Things feel more 3-D. More alive. More real. I feel REALLY good and in the last few days some REALLY good things have opened up in my life.

Is this what they mean by pink cloud? Can’t I just feel good? It is NOT like I am feeling like drinking again (well-feeling it for sure-doing it? NOPE!) I just want to feel happy. I am just going to feel happy.

Okay-that is it. Feeling good and NOT going to feel guilty about feeling good.

I am scared.

Nine Hidden One Found

vodka Wow. Cleaning out my closet today (in more ways than one) because apparently that is what I do when I do not feel like crap on a Saturday morning.

NINE! Nine hidden bottles in my closet. NINE!!!!

One bottle was still full. Beloved gone for the day. He has the kids up in the woods cutting wood for the winter. It is such a gorgeous fall day. A day it would be nice to just be blurry on. A perfect day for fall.

Itch starts. “No one has to know.” “He won’t be home for hours. You could drink it and he would never know.” “One last time? Just take one last drink in a gorgeous spill of sunshine so that you can remember your last one. I mean, you don’t even really remember your last one. Don’t you think you should be able to remember if it is going to be that important to be The Last One ” SHUT UP ITCH!

I quickly unscrewed the cap and tried to ignore my mouth watering (whoa-that is real) as I poured it down the drain. The smell lingers in mouth and in my nose. I pour bleach down it next.

Nine bottles hidden. One me found.

Sober Sex?

It is a thing.

I woke up today, not hungover and not having to have guilty sex. I sipped my coffee and wrote this blog instead.

When you have five kids, sex gets curtailed-there is nothing you can do about it. I know what you are thinking-that’s how you got five in the first place! Well, no. Emergency adoption of two of my great nieces changed our family a lot…. Every aspect really. Including my sex life.

Sex for the last many years has been drunken and quick on a Friday night or this really weird sex in the early hours when I am feeling all guilty and unlovable and feel like I am offering my body as in penance for the drinks I had the night before. “If he wants to have sex with me, it must mean he loves me. He must have found my puking in the toilet at 5:00 am endearing.” (Damn you leftover boxed wine!)

Um, that is some pretty messed up thinking in hindsight. Beloved is a modern guy with modern thinking, but I am pretty sure he would have sex with me even if he thought I had a raging drinking problem and even if I spent my wee hours praying to the porcelain god. He just really likes sex. He is a pretty simple guy. It is me that adds all the backstory.

But last night? Sober FRIDAY NIGHT sex? What? I was nervous and then I reminded myself I was done lying. Sex was going to be honest and real. I just let myself be and feel. I was going to stay out of my head and get into my body. I began to panic. “I don’t want to do this!”

I got out of my brain. Got into my body. What does my bed feel like, what does Beloved’s jeans feel like against my leg? What do the candles smell like?

And then it happened. My vision shifted. My panic relaxed. All the head stuff stopped. I was in the moment….

OMG! It was the sex from years ago when we first met-huge, hot sex that ignored our bumpily futon in an apartment that was almost to small to hold our first twig of a Christmas tree in a coffee can.

I cried.