I'm alive and I'm still sober. I've been working 2 jobs and getting in like 70 hours a week so I've been busy. I also parent an almost 4 year old girl and a 30 year old husband who acts like a kid. Did I mention I got a miniature horse and took up agate picking? My sober mind obviously needs things to keep me busy. I've counter addicted many odd things.
I apologize I haven't blogged. I lost my writing spirit a while back and I cannot seem to find where it went. I've found other therapy that helps, plus I don't have much time. Maybe one day I will 'get the itch' again.
Thank you for being so supportive and a good audience.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Day 50
Yesterday was Day 50 and it was amazing! I skipped out on a wedding to be a sober mom. The old me would have gotten a babysitter and went to the wedding. I would’ve been drunk by seven, blacked out by ten, and passed out by one in the morning. Today I’d be hurting and out of commission until noon.
Instead I had my husband go to the wedding to represent us. My daughter and I went to Barnes & Noble and spent two hours reading and looking at children’s books. After that we went to Fleet Farm and picked out a harness, lead rope, brush, and apple flavored treats. (I’ll explain later) We grabbed supper in a drive through involving a happy meal, and had a picnic outside under beautiful flowering trees. After we got home we had enough daylight left to go pick agates.
Picking agates is very therapeutic. All you need is a bucket, a good eye for red, and an ear to listen to, “Is this an agate mommy?” I look down at the dusty gray piece of gravel and say, “It’s beautiful!” At least I don’t say “yes” which would be a complete lie. Usually about 1 out of 10 of her treasures are actual agates:)
After agate picking we went to my in-laws house/farm. They were up North at their cabin so we fed the farm cats. Then we chased the four little calves back into the pasture with their mommas. There’s a set of twins in the bunch and they are all spring babies. Sooooo cute!
After an eventful evening we went home again to have our nightly ‘Pajama Party!’ We usually race to see who can get their jammies on first, then I tuck my daughter in and we read books.
I never read a lot and I still do not. I can remember all of the books I’ve read and count them on both hands. I’ve always wished I could get more into books. I never read to my daughter when I was drinking either. I was selfish. The night time was my time. I make up for it all by a lengthy night ritual which we both thoroughly enjoy.
We start with ‘My Little Book About God’ which she always calls ‘bible study’. Then we proceed with ‘The Going to Bed Book’. There’s a page that says…”and when the moon is on the rise, they all go up to…” This is when she yells, “to Extercized?” It’s supposed to be ‘exercise’ and not as a question, but that is the joy of reading to a child. Their interpretation of books is so cute. We then read ‘Five Little Sleepyheads’ and this little prayer book grandpa got her. We complete our extravaganza with a nursery rhyme book. It has all your night time classics like, Twinkle Twinkle, Star Light Star Bright, Diddle Diddle Dumpling, Hush Little Baby, Rock a Bye Baby, Jack be Nimble, and it ends in me singing ‘All Through the Night’. That is what my mom and dad sung me when I was tucked in as a child.
I don’t remember much as small children, but the things I do remember are mostly the good as I am notorious for repressing the bad. I do remember pretending like I fell asleep on the couch watching T.V. so I’d get a free ride to my bedroom. Either mom or dad would scoop me up and carry me to my room to tuck me in. By about the hallway to my room I’d slowly open one eye and peak up to see which one was carrying me. I’d then shut my eye and always feel safe. Usually by the end of my journey I’d open my eyes so they’d see I was awake now. This would by me goodnight song. Then they’d sing, “Sleep my child and peace attend thee, all through the night. Guardian angels God will send thee…” I think that is why I end in this song for my daughter. I want her to have sweet memories of me.
Today will be a good day also. I am bringing home a horse named Skid. I am so excited I could hardly sleep last night! He is a papered miniature horse with black hair and blue eyes, all 34 inches of him. They must be under 36 inches to be classifies as a true mini. He got his name from his silly behavior as a colt. He’d run head on as fast as he could at something and then slide into it as if he were sliding into home plate. He’d always stop about a foot shy of the object and then look up at it.
This is also why he is free to a good home and I decided to adopt him. He tried to ‘skid’ under a fence and got up and there was a fence above him. He panicked and injured his back. Now he has a bump on his back and a horse with a good blood line and papers is worthless to people who show them if they aren’t perfect to look at. A patient where I work raises them. We go get Skid today! I joked with my daughter at Fleet and said, “What in the world are we going to do with all this horse stuff? We don’t have a horse?” She said, “You are silly mom.”
I hope she likes him. If not, I will love and care for him. I grew up with a quarter horse named daisy. Horses are good animals to grow up with. You must earn their respect by proper care. They teach responsibility because the require daily attention. They also teach respect as they can sense fear and won’t listen if disrespected. You must earn their love and affection. Perfect for an only child!
I am so excited! I will post pictures tonight of Skid.
Instead I had my husband go to the wedding to represent us. My daughter and I went to Barnes & Noble and spent two hours reading and looking at children’s books. After that we went to Fleet Farm and picked out a harness, lead rope, brush, and apple flavored treats. (I’ll explain later) We grabbed supper in a drive through involving a happy meal, and had a picnic outside under beautiful flowering trees. After we got home we had enough daylight left to go pick agates.
Picking agates is very therapeutic. All you need is a bucket, a good eye for red, and an ear to listen to, “Is this an agate mommy?” I look down at the dusty gray piece of gravel and say, “It’s beautiful!” At least I don’t say “yes” which would be a complete lie. Usually about 1 out of 10 of her treasures are actual agates:)
After agate picking we went to my in-laws house/farm. They were up North at their cabin so we fed the farm cats. Then we chased the four little calves back into the pasture with their mommas. There’s a set of twins in the bunch and they are all spring babies. Sooooo cute!
After an eventful evening we went home again to have our nightly ‘Pajama Party!’ We usually race to see who can get their jammies on first, then I tuck my daughter in and we read books.
I never read a lot and I still do not. I can remember all of the books I’ve read and count them on both hands. I’ve always wished I could get more into books. I never read to my daughter when I was drinking either. I was selfish. The night time was my time. I make up for it all by a lengthy night ritual which we both thoroughly enjoy.
We start with ‘My Little Book About God’ which she always calls ‘bible study’. Then we proceed with ‘The Going to Bed Book’. There’s a page that says…”and when the moon is on the rise, they all go up to…” This is when she yells, “to Extercized?” It’s supposed to be ‘exercise’ and not as a question, but that is the joy of reading to a child. Their interpretation of books is so cute. We then read ‘Five Little Sleepyheads’ and this little prayer book grandpa got her. We complete our extravaganza with a nursery rhyme book. It has all your night time classics like, Twinkle Twinkle, Star Light Star Bright, Diddle Diddle Dumpling, Hush Little Baby, Rock a Bye Baby, Jack be Nimble, and it ends in me singing ‘All Through the Night’. That is what my mom and dad sung me when I was tucked in as a child.
I don’t remember much as small children, but the things I do remember are mostly the good as I am notorious for repressing the bad. I do remember pretending like I fell asleep on the couch watching T.V. so I’d get a free ride to my bedroom. Either mom or dad would scoop me up and carry me to my room to tuck me in. By about the hallway to my room I’d slowly open one eye and peak up to see which one was carrying me. I’d then shut my eye and always feel safe. Usually by the end of my journey I’d open my eyes so they’d see I was awake now. This would by me goodnight song. Then they’d sing, “Sleep my child and peace attend thee, all through the night. Guardian angels God will send thee…” I think that is why I end in this song for my daughter. I want her to have sweet memories of me.
Today will be a good day also. I am bringing home a horse named Skid. I am so excited I could hardly sleep last night! He is a papered miniature horse with black hair and blue eyes, all 34 inches of him. They must be under 36 inches to be classifies as a true mini. He got his name from his silly behavior as a colt. He’d run head on as fast as he could at something and then slide into it as if he were sliding into home plate. He’d always stop about a foot shy of the object and then look up at it.
This is also why he is free to a good home and I decided to adopt him. He tried to ‘skid’ under a fence and got up and there was a fence above him. He panicked and injured his back. Now he has a bump on his back and a horse with a good blood line and papers is worthless to people who show them if they aren’t perfect to look at. A patient where I work raises them. We go get Skid today! I joked with my daughter at Fleet and said, “What in the world are we going to do with all this horse stuff? We don’t have a horse?” She said, “You are silly mom.”
I hope she likes him. If not, I will love and care for him. I grew up with a quarter horse named daisy. Horses are good animals to grow up with. You must earn their respect by proper care. They teach responsibility because the require daily attention. They also teach respect as they can sense fear and won’t listen if disrespected. You must earn their love and affection. Perfect for an only child!
I am so excited! I will post pictures tonight of Skid.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Day 40-49
I actually blogged a Day 40 nine days ago, I won’t put the entire thing on here as it is a little vulgar, but here’s a taste of my mood that day...
May 5, 2010 6:01:00 AM
I'm gonna be completely honest, I'm annoyed. I want to drink so bad right now. I used to enjoy writing my posts and reading my comments. It has become something I feel I have to do and the enjoyment has passed. I would begin and end my day with positive thoughts and closure with specific therapy tools that I have embraced from the past. Now I type, erase, retype, erase, retype and cross my fingers. You've all sucked the life out of me again and once again I cannot do anything right!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Unless you've been through alcohol treatment several times and know what is healthy and effective when quitting, don't judge my methods. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. I can feel my heart pounding right now and I want to scream! I want to drink and numb these angry feelings because anger isn't healthy. I specifically said I don't have any resentment or wouldn't change a thing. I sugar coated the crap out of the last two blogs because I know how critical everybody is.
I had to quit blogging to gather my thoughts. I had lost all desire. A couple nights ago I had a dream that I was swimming at this pool and I couldn’t catch be breath or swim very well. It was all very labored. I went to one of my favorite dream interpretation websites and this is what I found.
“To see a pool of water in your dream, indicates that you need to understand and deal with your emotions. You need to dive right in. Alternatively, a pool may indicate your need for cleansing. You need to wash away the past. “
This is from dreammoods.com. I really enjoy this website. The ‘dream dictionary’ has everything from A to Z that you may come across in your dream and what your dreams are telling you. In this particular dream I would have to agree. I do need to wash away the past. I need to move forward. Plus, it has proved to be a thorn in everyone’s side when I talk about the past. So, you are welcome! Those who comment who cannot stand that I am helping myself, you are welcome. I am giving up the section of my therapy that is most important and made me who I am today. I do not like to disappoint others so I give up.
On a brighter note, I’m still sober! Tomorrow will be Day 50! My sister just sent me a beautiful blue bracelet with gorgeous glass beads and a metallic pendant with praying hands on one side and the Serenity Prayer on the back. I not only treasure it but I will wear it with pride as I have earned it.
The past ten days I’ve been in a depressed state of no desire. I haven’t been able to concentrate or finish anything. I have also felt physical pain. I’ve been to the Chiropractor and had acupuncture a total of four times and this chronic neck pain and migraine just will not go away.
My body aches, I’ve gained weight, (even after not drinking for 49 days?!) and I haven’t had a period in two months and I’m not pregnant. My anxiety has crested.
I think my anxiety meds cannot even fight my confused liver and body. Thankfully I have my annual physical on Tuesday the 18th and I will get to the bottom of this set back.
This is basically where I’ve been for the last week and a half. I will quit whining now and suck it up. Let’s talk business.
My dream last night requires no interpretation website. I dreamt that I relapsed and drove wasted all the way to Minneapolis and then back to my parent’s house in my dad’s vehicle. I had crashed into and ruined a bunch of my grandmother’s lawn furniture and parked my dad’s car horribly into his garage damaging it some more. My parents were so disappointed. I was so ashamed. Don’t ask me why I lived at my parent’s house again. In my dream everyone knew this would happen because I had fallen distant and quit blogging.
I know this wouldn’t happen, but I think I need to stay accountable so I don’t fall into old habits. The dream also reminds me of a part of my therapy that is very important. I apologized to my husband and daughter and friends for my past behavior, however, I there are more who deserve apologies. This dream makes it clear that I have done reckless things in the past when I was under my parent’s roof.
Mom, I am so sorry for disappointing you all those years. I am sorry for all the sleepless nights when you would hope I would stumble in rather than an officer knock at your door. I am sorry for the many mornings you spent more time trying to get me out of bed than getting yourself ready for your long work days. I apologize for the thousands of dollars I wasted on basketball camps that didn’t pay off. I’m sorry for the thousands of dollars you paid when I was very young on court fines, fees, detention center charges, etc… I’m sorry for ever hurting your feelings. I’m sorry for the embarrassment I cost you. I’m sorry for all the lying and cheating and stealing. I’m sorry for causing any pain. I am so sorry that I was such a hurricane of emotions. I’m sorry for any years of enjoyment I robbed you of. I’m sorry for ever making you think it was your fault or if there was anything you could have done different. The answer to that is NO! This was my little run with the devil and you couldn’t have prevented it in any way. You were and are the most amazing, kind hearted woman in the world. You are so sweet and positive and supportive and gentle. Grandpa Ray agrees. I’m truly sorry and I am asking for your forgiveness. I love you so much mom.
May 5, 2010 6:01:00 AM
I'm gonna be completely honest, I'm annoyed. I want to drink so bad right now. I used to enjoy writing my posts and reading my comments. It has become something I feel I have to do and the enjoyment has passed. I would begin and end my day with positive thoughts and closure with specific therapy tools that I have embraced from the past. Now I type, erase, retype, erase, retype and cross my fingers. You've all sucked the life out of me again and once again I cannot do anything right!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Unless you've been through alcohol treatment several times and know what is healthy and effective when quitting, don't judge my methods. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. I can feel my heart pounding right now and I want to scream! I want to drink and numb these angry feelings because anger isn't healthy. I specifically said I don't have any resentment or wouldn't change a thing. I sugar coated the crap out of the last two blogs because I know how critical everybody is.
I had to quit blogging to gather my thoughts. I had lost all desire. A couple nights ago I had a dream that I was swimming at this pool and I couldn’t catch be breath or swim very well. It was all very labored. I went to one of my favorite dream interpretation websites and this is what I found.
“To see a pool of water in your dream, indicates that you need to understand and deal with your emotions. You need to dive right in. Alternatively, a pool may indicate your need for cleansing. You need to wash away the past. “
This is from dreammoods.com. I really enjoy this website. The ‘dream dictionary’ has everything from A to Z that you may come across in your dream and what your dreams are telling you. In this particular dream I would have to agree. I do need to wash away the past. I need to move forward. Plus, it has proved to be a thorn in everyone’s side when I talk about the past. So, you are welcome! Those who comment who cannot stand that I am helping myself, you are welcome. I am giving up the section of my therapy that is most important and made me who I am today. I do not like to disappoint others so I give up.
On a brighter note, I’m still sober! Tomorrow will be Day 50! My sister just sent me a beautiful blue bracelet with gorgeous glass beads and a metallic pendant with praying hands on one side and the Serenity Prayer on the back. I not only treasure it but I will wear it with pride as I have earned it.
The past ten days I’ve been in a depressed state of no desire. I haven’t been able to concentrate or finish anything. I have also felt physical pain. I’ve been to the Chiropractor and had acupuncture a total of four times and this chronic neck pain and migraine just will not go away.
My body aches, I’ve gained weight, (even after not drinking for 49 days?!) and I haven’t had a period in two months and I’m not pregnant. My anxiety has crested.
I think my anxiety meds cannot even fight my confused liver and body. Thankfully I have my annual physical on Tuesday the 18th and I will get to the bottom of this set back.
This is basically where I’ve been for the last week and a half. I will quit whining now and suck it up. Let’s talk business.
My dream last night requires no interpretation website. I dreamt that I relapsed and drove wasted all the way to Minneapolis and then back to my parent’s house in my dad’s vehicle. I had crashed into and ruined a bunch of my grandmother’s lawn furniture and parked my dad’s car horribly into his garage damaging it some more. My parents were so disappointed. I was so ashamed. Don’t ask me why I lived at my parent’s house again. In my dream everyone knew this would happen because I had fallen distant and quit blogging.
I know this wouldn’t happen, but I think I need to stay accountable so I don’t fall into old habits. The dream also reminds me of a part of my therapy that is very important. I apologized to my husband and daughter and friends for my past behavior, however, I there are more who deserve apologies. This dream makes it clear that I have done reckless things in the past when I was under my parent’s roof.
Mom, I am so sorry for disappointing you all those years. I am sorry for all the sleepless nights when you would hope I would stumble in rather than an officer knock at your door. I am sorry for the many mornings you spent more time trying to get me out of bed than getting yourself ready for your long work days. I apologize for the thousands of dollars I wasted on basketball camps that didn’t pay off. I’m sorry for the thousands of dollars you paid when I was very young on court fines, fees, detention center charges, etc… I’m sorry for ever hurting your feelings. I’m sorry for the embarrassment I cost you. I’m sorry for all the lying and cheating and stealing. I’m sorry for causing any pain. I am so sorry that I was such a hurricane of emotions. I’m sorry for any years of enjoyment I robbed you of. I’m sorry for ever making you think it was your fault or if there was anything you could have done different. The answer to that is NO! This was my little run with the devil and you couldn’t have prevented it in any way. You were and are the most amazing, kind hearted woman in the world. You are so sweet and positive and supportive and gentle. Grandpa Ray agrees. I’m truly sorry and I am asking for your forgiveness. I love you so much mom.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Day 39
My dad was on the road a lot with his job and my mom worked a lot also. They had to work long hours to keep up with the mortgage, old debt, and three daughters. They had to keep up with my middle sister’s band trips and basketball camps. She always had something to go to or participate in that cost a lot of money. My mom and dad provided for us very well. They never said no even when it probably meant only being able to put $10 in their gas tank. They sacrificed so much so their girls would have the perfect prom dress or the latest Girbaud’s or Z-Cavaricci’s.
We were spoiled if you ask me. My eldest sister wasn't spoiled because she didn't allow herself to be spoiled. She always had a job and was extremely responsible. She worked hard and earned everything she had. She kept her door padlocked to keep her pesty sisters out. I think deep down the eldest was annoyed that our other sister got everything and she only got what she paid for out of pocket.
What seems obvious now was the last justification we would've had as kids. My eldest sister was very independent and her personality type didn't allow her to accept 'charity' from mom and dad. She thrived on making my parents proud, especially dad, to subconciously make up for the mistakes she had made when we lived in Minnesota. It was like she thought she needed to redeem herself or something. I still loved her either way.
My middle sister accepted anything mom and dad had to give. This is why I know my niece and nephew will be taken care of. She has turned into a wonderful provider and mother. No matter what the cost mentally or physically, she puts her children above her needs. She reminds me of my mom that way.
And then there was me, the youngest. I wanted to please everyone. I wanted everyone to get along. I was a modern day hippy. "Peace, love, and happiness...or hair grease"...depending on where you are geographically. I didn't like to bother people and I didn't like asking for money from mom or dad if I needed it. I got along with both of my sisters and annoyed the crap out of them at times too.
There are always pros and cons to everthing. My sister's teenage years hold an awkward time in their memories and even talking to them today, I sense they hold onto a little unhealthy resentment. But they blossomed into wonderful woman. What used to be their weaknesses are now their strengths. Myself, on the other hand, had a weak personality that may have kept my parents blood pressure low while I was younger but put it off the charts when I landed a life of reckless behavior.
I'm so lucky I had wonderful parents and sisters with such good influence to keep me breathing. I wouldn't be here today if my family circumstances were any different. Thank you Mom, Dad, Eldest, Middle:) I love you all so much.
Girls, don't be mad at this next section. Keep in mind these are my feelings from when I was little and I am a different person now. I have NO resentments or regrets about my birth order. I loved and still love being the youngest. It made me who I am growing into right now. If mom reads this post she'll probable start quoting lines from Poison..."Every Rose has it's thorn..." ;)
I was always on the sidelines, literally. Being the youngest can is usually a tough birth order because although you are loved and taken care of, there are so many expectations and exceptions. People are constantly comparing and judging. It was very frustrating when I was good at different things than my middle sister, especially when it came to basketball.
People thought that just because I was tall and we shared the same blood as Michael Jorden, I mean my sister, that I would be equally as good. Wrong. I was okay. I was a good defensive player and she was a good all around player. It’s odd being on the same varsity team as your senior sister. It’s also odd playing the same position. I thought it would be cool, but I would get stage fright and loath being on the court if she were too. I felt like every time I got the ball people would wait for me to do something incredible with it, like score. I’d freeze. When she would get the ball it was always magical. I could practically hear "We are the champions, my friends..." or the whistling theme when the Globetrotters come on. I would just pass it off just as fast as I could to avoid the attention. I’ve never liked to draw extra attention to myself…I said I never liked to draw attention to myself. I didn’t say I never DREW attention to myself. I was good at that...but it was usually negative.
Do you have any idea what it’s like to play in a Varsity basketball game with one of the toughest coaches in the district? How about when you lose? Post game we would watch a video of the game in slow motion so the coach could critique our every move. This is a useful approach when trying to see where you can improve. It’s not so useful when you are constantly told you need to position, or check, or rebound just like your sister. After getting lectured after games on how I should be more like my sister, I would go home and get the same advice from my dad.
This kind of psychological garbage is just a normal part of life. To someone with my personality who wants her own identity and likes to try new things, it’s a ‘not so normal’ part of life. I remember trying to ignore my feelings of disappointment. I felt like I never did anything right. I hated not meeting expectations. I needed to be good at my own things. I wanted people to remember me as me and not the little sister of that great basketball player.
I quickly found friends who were the opposite of my sister and her friends. They loved that I was coming over to the ‘dark side’. I loved rebelling. The ‘bad kids’ thought it was cool that I wasn’t hanging out with the jocks, and the most popular kids and gave them the time of day. They loved seeing an athlete and a ‘goody two shoes’ skip school and do naughty things. I loved the praise I received from my new followers. They put me on a pedestal and soaked up anything I said or did.
I remember when the school day ended. I would go lift weights and work out before basketball practice, and then go to the 1-2 hour practice. I would rush outside the lower gym after practice and smoke a cigarette before I got in my car to go home. Wow! What the hell was I thinking? I actually remember thinking I was cool because I could do everything an athlete could, and still smoke disgusting cigarettes. Kids are so naïve.
I thought my eldest sister was cool too. She always had hot boyfriends with their own apartments and she smoked and listened to rock music. She was so responsible and was a functioning rebel. I remember when she got her very own apartment with her friend. I was so proud of her and envious at the same time. I bragged to all my friends about it. I remember going there and wanting to ask her to buy me and my friends cigarettes or alcohol, but being too chicken shit to ask. I respected her way too much. Neither of my sisters were ever a bad influence on me.
My middle sister was in the paper weekly with the most impressive basketball statistics. She’d be on the front cover of the local sports page in a huge picture with a great write up. I remember clipping and saving all of these articles for her and making a scrapbook.I was so proud of her.
I remember the first time I was in the paper. There was a write up about a party that got busted and over 40 minors were given out. The men’s and woman’s varsity basketball teams lost 40% of their players. It was at my boyfriend’s house, and not only got my first alcohol charge of many, but I got kicked off the varsity basketball team. Anyone who was anyone was at this party. My sister and her crew even stopped in but were lucky enough to get out before the cops came. That was an insane event and eye opener for the school and all of our parents. That is when everyone started cracking down and I had to start being more creatively sneaky.
My sister graduated and went to a University on a full ride basketball scholarship and my boyfriend graduated and went away to a University as well. All of the good influences I had left and people to look out for me and take care of me were gone just like that. I was alone and had to start from scratch again. I was now at the bottom of the totem poll again.
This is when I fell hard and fast and hit rock bottom. I’m talking about when cigarettes and alcohol turned into a nightmare.
We were spoiled if you ask me. My eldest sister wasn't spoiled because she didn't allow herself to be spoiled. She always had a job and was extremely responsible. She worked hard and earned everything she had. She kept her door padlocked to keep her pesty sisters out. I think deep down the eldest was annoyed that our other sister got everything and she only got what she paid for out of pocket.
What seems obvious now was the last justification we would've had as kids. My eldest sister was very independent and her personality type didn't allow her to accept 'charity' from mom and dad. She thrived on making my parents proud, especially dad, to subconciously make up for the mistakes she had made when we lived in Minnesota. It was like she thought she needed to redeem herself or something. I still loved her either way.
My middle sister accepted anything mom and dad had to give. This is why I know my niece and nephew will be taken care of. She has turned into a wonderful provider and mother. No matter what the cost mentally or physically, she puts her children above her needs. She reminds me of my mom that way.
And then there was me, the youngest. I wanted to please everyone. I wanted everyone to get along. I was a modern day hippy. "Peace, love, and happiness...or hair grease"...depending on where you are geographically. I didn't like to bother people and I didn't like asking for money from mom or dad if I needed it. I got along with both of my sisters and annoyed the crap out of them at times too.
There are always pros and cons to everthing. My sister's teenage years hold an awkward time in their memories and even talking to them today, I sense they hold onto a little unhealthy resentment. But they blossomed into wonderful woman. What used to be their weaknesses are now their strengths. Myself, on the other hand, had a weak personality that may have kept my parents blood pressure low while I was younger but put it off the charts when I landed a life of reckless behavior.
I'm so lucky I had wonderful parents and sisters with such good influence to keep me breathing. I wouldn't be here today if my family circumstances were any different. Thank you Mom, Dad, Eldest, Middle:) I love you all so much.
Girls, don't be mad at this next section. Keep in mind these are my feelings from when I was little and I am a different person now. I have NO resentments or regrets about my birth order. I loved and still love being the youngest. It made me who I am growing into right now. If mom reads this post she'll probable start quoting lines from Poison..."Every Rose has it's thorn..." ;)
I was always on the sidelines, literally. Being the youngest can is usually a tough birth order because although you are loved and taken care of, there are so many expectations and exceptions. People are constantly comparing and judging. It was very frustrating when I was good at different things than my middle sister, especially when it came to basketball.
People thought that just because I was tall and we shared the same blood as Michael Jorden, I mean my sister, that I would be equally as good. Wrong. I was okay. I was a good defensive player and she was a good all around player. It’s odd being on the same varsity team as your senior sister. It’s also odd playing the same position. I thought it would be cool, but I would get stage fright and loath being on the court if she were too. I felt like every time I got the ball people would wait for me to do something incredible with it, like score. I’d freeze. When she would get the ball it was always magical. I could practically hear "We are the champions, my friends..." or the whistling theme when the Globetrotters come on. I would just pass it off just as fast as I could to avoid the attention. I’ve never liked to draw extra attention to myself…I said I never liked to draw attention to myself. I didn’t say I never DREW attention to myself. I was good at that...but it was usually negative.
Do you have any idea what it’s like to play in a Varsity basketball game with one of the toughest coaches in the district? How about when you lose? Post game we would watch a video of the game in slow motion so the coach could critique our every move. This is a useful approach when trying to see where you can improve. It’s not so useful when you are constantly told you need to position, or check, or rebound just like your sister. After getting lectured after games on how I should be more like my sister, I would go home and get the same advice from my dad.
This kind of psychological garbage is just a normal part of life. To someone with my personality who wants her own identity and likes to try new things, it’s a ‘not so normal’ part of life. I remember trying to ignore my feelings of disappointment. I felt like I never did anything right. I hated not meeting expectations. I needed to be good at my own things. I wanted people to remember me as me and not the little sister of that great basketball player.
I quickly found friends who were the opposite of my sister and her friends. They loved that I was coming over to the ‘dark side’. I loved rebelling. The ‘bad kids’ thought it was cool that I wasn’t hanging out with the jocks, and the most popular kids and gave them the time of day. They loved seeing an athlete and a ‘goody two shoes’ skip school and do naughty things. I loved the praise I received from my new followers. They put me on a pedestal and soaked up anything I said or did.
I remember when the school day ended. I would go lift weights and work out before basketball practice, and then go to the 1-2 hour practice. I would rush outside the lower gym after practice and smoke a cigarette before I got in my car to go home. Wow! What the hell was I thinking? I actually remember thinking I was cool because I could do everything an athlete could, and still smoke disgusting cigarettes. Kids are so naïve.
I thought my eldest sister was cool too. She always had hot boyfriends with their own apartments and she smoked and listened to rock music. She was so responsible and was a functioning rebel. I remember when she got her very own apartment with her friend. I was so proud of her and envious at the same time. I bragged to all my friends about it. I remember going there and wanting to ask her to buy me and my friends cigarettes or alcohol, but being too chicken shit to ask. I respected her way too much. Neither of my sisters were ever a bad influence on me.
My middle sister was in the paper weekly with the most impressive basketball statistics. She’d be on the front cover of the local sports page in a huge picture with a great write up. I remember clipping and saving all of these articles for her and making a scrapbook.I was so proud of her.
I remember the first time I was in the paper. There was a write up about a party that got busted and over 40 minors were given out. The men’s and woman’s varsity basketball teams lost 40% of their players. It was at my boyfriend’s house, and not only got my first alcohol charge of many, but I got kicked off the varsity basketball team. Anyone who was anyone was at this party. My sister and her crew even stopped in but were lucky enough to get out before the cops came. That was an insane event and eye opener for the school and all of our parents. That is when everyone started cracking down and I had to start being more creatively sneaky.
My sister graduated and went to a University on a full ride basketball scholarship and my boyfriend graduated and went away to a University as well. All of the good influences I had left and people to look out for me and take care of me were gone just like that. I was alone and had to start from scratch again. I was now at the bottom of the totem poll again.
This is when I fell hard and fast and hit rock bottom. I’m talking about when cigarettes and alcohol turned into a nightmare.
Day 38
If you have tried cigarettes and enjoyed the ‘high’ but don’t get the same feeling when you smoke them anymore, chances of you being comfortable trying marijuana if it’s offered to you are pretty likely. This terrifies me because my daughter is only 3 and I catch her pretending she’s smoking looking in the mirror. She’ll have one hand on her hip and she’ll be in a movie star position with a pen or straw in her other hand smoking it. One of her grandmas whom she loves dearly smokes and my daughter now thinks it’s what you are supposed to do because her dear sweet grandma does it.
I’ve never smoked around her and now that she’s old enough to remember everything I don’t want her to see alcohol glorified and drank around her. This is one of the main reasons I quit. All the experts say your value system is developed from birth to age 5. This is a crucial time when children develop beliefs. I am now terrified she will smoke one day and then follow in my footsteps. That is why I thought it was okay to smoke cigarettes. I thought that’s what the cool grown-ups did. My beautiful mother did it so I wanted to. I was the youngest of three girls and I was always too little to be included so when I had the chance, I wanted to grow up quick and do grown up things.
I know you’ll be comfortable with marijuana if you smoke because I was. I wasn’t afraid to try it and thank God I hated it. That is one drug I never could stand. It made me giggle until my cheeks were sore and eat like a pig and then sit in a daze with no care in the world for hours. You couldn’t control it. You were lazy and numb and relaxed and tired. I did not like drugs that ‘tranquilized’ me. I preferred anything that gave me energy and woke me up.
So I tampered with cigarettes and tried marijuana in 7th and 8th grade. There would also be the occasional party and there would be alcohol. I drank occasionally. Someone would usually bring a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 or a few Colt 45’s or Mickey’s 40s. You would chug as much as you could handle and pass it on. At that point I would usually get an enjoyable buzz and that’s it. We were too young to get our own yet so we just drank what we could and usually that wasn’t much. The only drinking memory I have from my pre high school days was being at a party and one of my girlfriends got a bottle of Everclear from her older brother. I binge drank almost half the bottle. I remember because I’m sure I had alcohol poisoning. I was so drunk and so sick. That was the first time out of the 3 times I puked in my life from alcohol. I always prayed to God he would turn me into a puker. He never graced me with this request. I knew I had a problem early on.
I only did these bad things occasionally and then I entered high school. This was a whole different community. The things we did in Junior High weren’t as accepted in high school. There was more pressure to be academically or athletically recognized. I had a sister who was popular and a recognized athlete. She was an all star basketball player. She broke school records and won awards. I remember how much I wanted to be just like her. I was so proud to be her sister. I stood tall my freshman year and loved being noticed as her little sister. I had older friends and hung out with the juniors and seniors. I rode around with popular guys who drove nicer cars than my parents had. I was on top of the world.
I’ve never smoked around her and now that she’s old enough to remember everything I don’t want her to see alcohol glorified and drank around her. This is one of the main reasons I quit. All the experts say your value system is developed from birth to age 5. This is a crucial time when children develop beliefs. I am now terrified she will smoke one day and then follow in my footsteps. That is why I thought it was okay to smoke cigarettes. I thought that’s what the cool grown-ups did. My beautiful mother did it so I wanted to. I was the youngest of three girls and I was always too little to be included so when I had the chance, I wanted to grow up quick and do grown up things.
I know you’ll be comfortable with marijuana if you smoke because I was. I wasn’t afraid to try it and thank God I hated it. That is one drug I never could stand. It made me giggle until my cheeks were sore and eat like a pig and then sit in a daze with no care in the world for hours. You couldn’t control it. You were lazy and numb and relaxed and tired. I did not like drugs that ‘tranquilized’ me. I preferred anything that gave me energy and woke me up.
So I tampered with cigarettes and tried marijuana in 7th and 8th grade. There would also be the occasional party and there would be alcohol. I drank occasionally. Someone would usually bring a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 or a few Colt 45’s or Mickey’s 40s. You would chug as much as you could handle and pass it on. At that point I would usually get an enjoyable buzz and that’s it. We were too young to get our own yet so we just drank what we could and usually that wasn’t much. The only drinking memory I have from my pre high school days was being at a party and one of my girlfriends got a bottle of Everclear from her older brother. I binge drank almost half the bottle. I remember because I’m sure I had alcohol poisoning. I was so drunk and so sick. That was the first time out of the 3 times I puked in my life from alcohol. I always prayed to God he would turn me into a puker. He never graced me with this request. I knew I had a problem early on.
I only did these bad things occasionally and then I entered high school. This was a whole different community. The things we did in Junior High weren’t as accepted in high school. There was more pressure to be academically or athletically recognized. I had a sister who was popular and a recognized athlete. She was an all star basketball player. She broke school records and won awards. I remember how much I wanted to be just like her. I was so proud to be her sister. I stood tall my freshman year and loved being noticed as her little sister. I had older friends and hung out with the juniors and seniors. I rode around with popular guys who drove nicer cars than my parents had. I was on top of the world.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Day 37
My eldest sister, who has taught both fifth and sixth graders, said she’d like to know how and when my drug addiction started. She said her students have expressed curiosity on how addiction progresses also. These are fantastic questions. I think educating our children is very important. Although this is part of my past it still plays a big role in my alcoholism I’m battling currently.
It all started in seventh grade. I went from elementary to middle school. I was a teenager and these years were very awkward. Peer pressure and self esteem mixed with a bad influence or two become recipes for disaster. The culprit that opened the flood gates to the drug world are cigarettes. You go to a party or two and some kid who probably stole cigarettes from one of his parents brings them to a party to be cool and pressures other kids into trying one. Some of the victims may have seen an older kid doing it and thought it looked cool, or seen cigarettes glamorized on T.V. or the movies.
Although I was in D.A.R.E. and you learn in school to ‘Just say no!’ it doesn’t prepare the weak for that moment when some idiot passes a cigarette your way and says, “Want a drag?” and you look around and the whole room is looking at you and the pressures on and you just want to fit in. You want to be loved. You want to be cool. Terrified, you say yes. It is at that moment, at that weak moment, that the devil tightens his leash one more notch. This is the time in a teen’s life that sets the pace for the rest of their teenage years.
If you gave in you could be a follower, someone who hates to disappoint people or someone who likes to try new things. I was all three. The leaders aren’t at that party because their parents wouldn’t let them go. I was also a leader but I was also a trusted good kid most of the time so it was easy to lie to my parents and sneak out to bad places. There are also the kids who are there but do not have strong personalities. They avoid the peer pressure situation which is a good thing, but they always stand in the sidelines as a spectator. They knew it was wrong and didn’t like what was going on but didn’t have the authority to stop it. Maybe these are the kids that go into law enforcement or become treatment counselors. They can finally speak out and help both the ‘kid that was pressured’ and put the ‘bullies’ behind bars or help them.
Today some ignorant psychologist on ‘The Doctors’ said she had been an addiction expert for 15 years and she didn’t believe there were such things as gateway drugs. She probably studied addiction in a text book and just doesn’t get it or know. Any chemical can be a gateway drug. I strongly believe in them.
For me cigarettes were my gateway drug. You try it to be cool and the first one makes you cough and feel light headed. Then at the next party the same scenario comes up and because you know it ‘wasn’t that bad’ and you try it again. You think you just scored two more points with the ‘cool kids’, but you just disabled yourself for a long time. The problem that arose is that this one doesn’t make you sick. This one actually makes you feel great. You get buzzed, or high, which is a sense of euphoria.
You like this feeling and it feels different than anything you’ve experienced, so you do it again and again. You may only do it at parties, but what you don’t realize that is happening in your body is that the drug nicotine in the cigarettes is actually addictive. Pretty soon you actually crave it and want more. The sad thing is that by this time, you will never feel the same sense of euphoria as you did with your fist few cigarettes. Your bodies will never in your life feel the same again. What a waste! Satin has some nasty tricks he likes to play on teens.
I’ll explain what drug came next later. I’m tired:)
It all started in seventh grade. I went from elementary to middle school. I was a teenager and these years were very awkward. Peer pressure and self esteem mixed with a bad influence or two become recipes for disaster. The culprit that opened the flood gates to the drug world are cigarettes. You go to a party or two and some kid who probably stole cigarettes from one of his parents brings them to a party to be cool and pressures other kids into trying one. Some of the victims may have seen an older kid doing it and thought it looked cool, or seen cigarettes glamorized on T.V. or the movies.
Although I was in D.A.R.E. and you learn in school to ‘Just say no!’ it doesn’t prepare the weak for that moment when some idiot passes a cigarette your way and says, “Want a drag?” and you look around and the whole room is looking at you and the pressures on and you just want to fit in. You want to be loved. You want to be cool. Terrified, you say yes. It is at that moment, at that weak moment, that the devil tightens his leash one more notch. This is the time in a teen’s life that sets the pace for the rest of their teenage years.
If you gave in you could be a follower, someone who hates to disappoint people or someone who likes to try new things. I was all three. The leaders aren’t at that party because their parents wouldn’t let them go. I was also a leader but I was also a trusted good kid most of the time so it was easy to lie to my parents and sneak out to bad places. There are also the kids who are there but do not have strong personalities. They avoid the peer pressure situation which is a good thing, but they always stand in the sidelines as a spectator. They knew it was wrong and didn’t like what was going on but didn’t have the authority to stop it. Maybe these are the kids that go into law enforcement or become treatment counselors. They can finally speak out and help both the ‘kid that was pressured’ and put the ‘bullies’ behind bars or help them.
Today some ignorant psychologist on ‘The Doctors’ said she had been an addiction expert for 15 years and she didn’t believe there were such things as gateway drugs. She probably studied addiction in a text book and just doesn’t get it or know. Any chemical can be a gateway drug. I strongly believe in them.
For me cigarettes were my gateway drug. You try it to be cool and the first one makes you cough and feel light headed. Then at the next party the same scenario comes up and because you know it ‘wasn’t that bad’ and you try it again. You think you just scored two more points with the ‘cool kids’, but you just disabled yourself for a long time. The problem that arose is that this one doesn’t make you sick. This one actually makes you feel great. You get buzzed, or high, which is a sense of euphoria.
You like this feeling and it feels different than anything you’ve experienced, so you do it again and again. You may only do it at parties, but what you don’t realize that is happening in your body is that the drug nicotine in the cigarettes is actually addictive. Pretty soon you actually crave it and want more. The sad thing is that by this time, you will never feel the same sense of euphoria as you did with your fist few cigarettes. Your bodies will never in your life feel the same again. What a waste! Satin has some nasty tricks he likes to play on teens.
I’ll explain what drug came next later. I’m tired:)
Day 36
Being sober gives me a whole new meaning of the term ‘beer goggles’. My new beer goggles consist of those days when everything reminds me alcohol. I recently got a second job to help hit my goal of being ‘debt free by 2011’. So during training they sit me next to this guy that reeks of alcohol. He reminded me of my grandfather when I was younger when he spoke. Then the other night my husband and I went out to eat and you pretty much had to jump over the wine display to get to the hostess station. And wouldn’t you know they had a 20 minute wait but immediate seating in the lounge area. It was eight o’clock on a Saturday night and the Twins were playing so you can imagine the atmosphere in the lounge. There were your typical men with their 200 ounce beers victory fist bumping and women with chic drinks like margaritas and daiquiris that looked like swimming pools for Chihuahuas.
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