Things I Love Thursday - Part 35

LEGS UP!

Not a toothbrush.

TRANSVAGINAL ULTRASOUNDS AND BLOOD TESTS FOR ALL MY FRIENDS!! 

Shoots of glitter guns, pew pew pew pew!

This Thursday I am CHOOSING to love my morning routine of going to Northwestern Hospital.  You know, I go every single morning now, for my tests.  The staff actually have gotten to know my big stupid face and are very kind and funny with me now.  It just takes a hot minute and then people usually realize I'm pretty freaking awesome.  And most of them are too, once you break through their "going through the motions for the 8 millionth time" face. 

It finally happened.  This morning, almost legs up in stirrups, the gal says, "You look like someone."   OH MAH GAH.  And sure enough, she continued by saying, "I'm not the only Stenographer who thinks so; we've all been talking about you."

Well, isn't that nice.  Then we laughed and laughed.  Seriously.  I've been legs up with this girl every damn day for the last week and I was so happy to be laughing with her, I didn't even get irritated. 

I'm so grateful that Northwestern is a top notch medical facility and my husband's insurance lets me do this fertility gig there.  I am so thankful it's right downtown, across the Loop from my work.  And that I get to go in every morning at 7am before being at work at 8am-ish.  This makes a huge difference in my daily schedule.  I can take the train downtown and then walk about 6 blocks to the hospital with a gaggle of about 30 nurses or nursing students who also take the train. 

We all line up - about 20 women there for infertility each morning - some who are actually smiling and saying hi to me now - get our numbers for ultrasounds and go wait.  I see some of the same women every morning.  One woman was in our orientation when we went a couple months ago.  I know this is hard.  I know none of us want to be there.  I also know it makes me feel less alone and afraid to have a kind look or a how are you from one of them who is going through EXACTLY the same thing I am.  It helps.  So I am trying and some probably hate me for it and wish I would take my stupid big smile face somewhere else, but I'm here.  I'm grateful to be here and to be given an opportunity to try this. 

Bing, bang, boom, Ultrasound and blood work, and I'm outta there hoofing it across the Loop to the Tower in time for work. 

I am really, REALLY grateful for all of this.  The convenience makes it a bit easier to swallow all the pricking and prodding and money spent on this baby stuff. 

I don't even know who I am anymore, but I'm smiley for some reason and reaching out to other women going through this. Usually I just reach out to other drunks and leave the rest alone. Now, I'm reaching out to other women going through this baby stuff. And they are reaching out to me. Either in person or through my blog or the Facebook page. And I am so grateful for all of it. The notes of encouragement and love I've received are absolutely mind blowing to me. Every single one is so precious and I cannot thank you enough.


Also, I love my bird earrings I have on today.

Kicking Ass on Hormones

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Things I Love Thursday - Part 34

Waving that flag.  That white flag.  Marching around with that flag on my shoulders and singing, "I let it go, I let it go, I let you go you bastard of self doubt and worry and shit I can't control!"  MARCH MARCH MARCH MARCH. 

The Thing I Love this Thursday is the ability to surrender. To let that shit go.  I have to do it every single day, sometimes over and over and over until I want to rip that motherloving flag up and burn it to the ground, but dammit, I SURRENDER.

Now, you know I'm not a religious sort.  But this shit helps me every day in my life.  This little ditty right here makes all the difference.  Over and over and over I say this prayer and I surrender to the universe and just keep doing the best I can to treat others with kindness and respect and remember to treat myself with kindness and respect and not drive myself insane.

I like to pretend I have a little parade akin to the Music Man, or OK GO here, marching around with that white flag going through the middle of it all day, every day.  THIS TOO SHALL PASS.  God, how many times has this been said to me or have I said it to others.  And, you know what?  IT ALWAYS DOES PASS.  Always.  No matter how many times I roll my eyes or scream, I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR IT.  It passes.  The good and the bad, IT ALL PASSES.

Practice not perfection.  SURRENDERING is one of the hardest things to do because we love to make ourselves crazy with worry and self doubt and FEAR over useless shit that we have absolutely no control over.  You know who that helps?  Nobody.  Certainly not yourself.  Do yourself a favor and feel that burden lifted. 

Here's what I ask myself, "Is this something I have any kind of control over?"  Most of the time, it's no.  So I can let that shit go.  If I can control any of it, I do my best to handle it well.  The rest, GONE. 

Surrender feels so damn good, I want to give it to all my friends.  I want to give it to the world.  Just let me hang onto that one thing a tiny bit longer and then you can have it, OK?

Things I Love Thursday - Part 33

Guess who came into work with me today? 

I give you -  GRANDMAMA.

Some of you on the IWADB Facebook Page may be familiar with Grandmama and her shall we say, prim and proper ways.  She likes to tell me I look like a whore or a prostitute, but in a nice way (not really, but I live in denial).

If it's possible, I think my skin itches even more right now with her on me.  I get pretty excited to see her, she's not very excited to see me, as you can tell here.

Most days she stays in her jewelry box and doesn't inflict judgement on anyone but me. Well, she and Sally Boy have a grand old Tea and Scones party every day, but that's about it. I can only IMAGINE the conversations that those two have. 

Today, GRANDMAMA took the train into the Tower with me and as you can see, she was doing her best to cast her disapproval on this gentleman here just trying to get to work.

"Have some pride young man and take off those mirrored sunglasses for god's sake.  You are embarrassing yourself."

She came about the first time I wore her and my Dear Sweet Husband called her that and started talking for her.  Because he's the funniest and most creative person I know.  And he married ME!  Squeeeeee! 

Therefore, she is a THING I LOVE THIS THURSDAY.

I can't do voices nearly as well as he can and when I talk for Grandmama she winds up sounding like my girl cat, Eliza.  So, in my head, all day every day, I hear things like this from my necklace, a.k.a, GRANDMAMA, a.k.a., my husband doing her voice:

1. "You look like a prostitute."
2. "You stink of cheese."
3. "You look like a whore."
4. "Your décolletage is distracting."

I think there should be a little pull thingy where she says these things all day whenever we pull her.  I NEED THAT.  Can anyone help me with that?

TOM'S A Day WITHOUT Shoes Challenge

My company hauled our asses up to the 103rd floor of the Sears Tower sans shoes to do this thing for Tom's - One Day Without Shoes.  Here, for your enjoyment, are Leigh Anne and Young Jonathan. And me, of course.  All acting like idiots. 

To be fair, this laying down and taking the picture from above from YJ's idea.  I didn't look down the entire time up there. 

 Yup, that would be me hiding behind him.  Who knew he was taller than me?

 I love my city.

 Not even out there yet.  Too skeered.

 YJ was even more scared than we were I think.  He tried to play it cool.

 This is my other young friend, Justin.  He was fearless up there.

 NO WAY.  NOT DOING IT.

OK, here's a little fake forced, I ain't skeered smile.

I don't know what y'all are so afraid of.  This is nothin'.

Mr. Cool.

We did it!  Holding hands like two proper old biddies. 

It's Not Me, It's the Hormones

Well Well Well.  We have arrived at the point in which I can confidently say, we are doing IN VITRO FERTILIZATION.  Cue DUN DUN DUN sound here.

KATY SMASH.

Now, I am on week two of the birth control pills and I have a rash that is causing me to break out into scratching spasms at all times, day and night.  Mostly out of a dead sleep and my poor husband.  MY POOR DEAR HUSBAND.  Who will help me administer my first actual shot tonight. 

This is how I think I look most of the time:

When in all reality, THIS is what I look like at all times lately.



This is what trying to scratch everywhere on your body looks like when you try to do it using only your mind. 
Tip - IT DOES NOT WORK. 



I have bruises all over my body from the scratching.  I have tried everything so please you really don't need to write or comment to tell me what I need to do. 

IN FACT, can we all just agree that if your first response to this post is to write me to tell me anything about what I SHOULD OR SHOULD NOT BE DOING OR FEELING is probably one that you should keep to yourself.  I know, your aunt Minny or cousin Betty got pregnant when they just relaxed or when they adopted or all that.  Please.  I've heard enough of these stories to last a lifetime.  I know you mean well, or at least I'm hoping you mean well, but please respect our process and don't ask questions or tell me how I should be doing things.  Don't try to tell me how to do this or try to fix me.  In short, mind your own damn business.  Please respect our privacy. I put out as much here as I'm willing to put out for you.  That's it. 

I am someone who is no stranger to mental health facilities. I have spent time as a patient on psych wards. This hormone shit is fucking with me. It's fucking with my sanity. So, I am trying to get to more meetings. I am talking to people who have gone through this and when they say, "that's normal", I believe them.  I am not making a lot of plans right now.  Because chances are, I will break them.  I can barely get my ass out the door to work right now most days.  I am a crazy hormonal monster. My only saving grace is people telling me I don't "look" crazy. Jesus.  I put in the effort to look nice lately as that makes me feel a bit normal. 

 However, I take all this mental health shit very seriously.  Because my sobriety hinges on it. So, this is my gig in my head lately, "I feel like crap, I feel like crap, I suck, everything sucks, I have no motivation to do anything, I am just going to screw everything up anyway so what's the point, I am not healthy, I am spiraling into a pit of despair, cry cry cry, oh my that's pretty funny because you know what?  everything is actually really fucking great.  I am sober, I have a great husband and a great life and this shit that I'm feeling is just these stupid hormones that are going through my body that are new and different and I am still Katy and I am just fine.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH be mean to my husband and people around me and maybe smash things with my mind and the daggers in my eyeballs, but wait, calm down, everything ok.  EVERYTHING IS OK.  EVERYTHING IS OK". 

Rinse, repeat repeat repeat.

I keep going back to, this is not me, this is the hormones fucking with me.  I am Katy.  I am calm and serene and everything is just fine. Well, yesterday at Easter I actually told people in my family how I am.  And after the look of shock wore off their faces, they were nothing but loving.  I realized how I am usually the one who listens more than expresses how I am feeling, but right now, no holds barred.  I need to get through this shit.  And I need people to hear me and just listen to me and my crazy. 

This little ditty is with me today because I believe I can be crazed and still have my dignity and laughter at the same time.  And strength, well, I know I have that.  Fear?  Of course I have fear.  We all do.  But that doesn't mean we can't walk through it with grace and dignity.  Maybe a bit clumsily with a few trips along the way, but still, dignity.  Always dignity. 

I have quit drinking. I have quit smoking. I have quit anxiety medication. I have quit a lot of things. I have learned to eat well and be healthy. To eat REAL FOOD. I have learned to honor my body and my spirit, finally. But even now, my first instinct is usually something self destructive. I play that through and make a good choice MOST of the time today. FEELINGS ARE NOT FACTS. The facts are that I have everything I need today. And man, does that feel good.

My husband and I are good.  We are great and we have great support from family and friends and good medical people working with us.  We are lucky.  We are incredibly lucky that we even get to try this.  So, in my own way, making fun of myself and what a horrible monster I am by making jokes and doing funny postings is how I deal.  If I am laughing, I am not crying and THAT my friends are where my emotions are today.   Laughing or crying.  Not much in between.  So yeah, I am a terrible fucking emotional monster right now. Who is itching like a crazy person.  Who is driving her poor sweet husband crazy.  We want a baby.  We are trying this first.  Welcome to our journey.  You are with us or you are against us.  Hop off now, if you are against us please.  There are better places for you than with me. 

The rest of you, get ready.  This is going to be an excellent ride.  Now, come over here and scratch my back. 



Excuse Me, I'm Trying to Avoid You

We have a problem.  You are on the train or the bus in the morning going into work.  YOU SEE SOMEONE YOU KNOW.  Either you work with this person or you know them from a one night stand or they fired your ass for passing out drunk in the lobby of the Prudential Tower, or you know,  they are somebody's sister or something totally and ridiculously uncomfortable.  Whatever.  WHAT DO YOU DO?

It's a problem that many before and many after me will encounter and never quite know how to handle without being incredibly rude or incredibly passive aggressive. That's not in my wheelhouse, the passive aggressive thing, so incredibly rude is usually how it rears it's ugly head. I usually will say something like, "I'm sorry, but I really need to just chill for a while before going into work, do you mind if I read/listen to This American Life (people love it when you drop the NPR bomb. It makes you seem super smart and worldly, not stuffy at all or pretentious in any way).



If you don't feel comfortable throwing out the LEAVE ME ALONE AND LET ME CHILL FOR 5 FUCKING MINUTES BEFORE CROSSING THE THRESHOLD OF HELL, here's a helpful list to get you back to your headphones and that glorious Weird Al music you so enjoy at the butt crack of dawn to get you pumped up for the day.

1. Wear a disguise each and every day.  We all know about fake mustaches.  Even finger mustaches can work in a pinch, but by god do SOMETHING.  I like bonnets myself. 



See?  None of you would know this handsome devil is actually Mel Gibson in a clever disguise.


2. Bring a cat with you.  Preferably in a stroller, a la Sally Boy here,



People love cats.  I find.  Especially when on public transportation.  And they especially love when you do something creepy and weird like make them cradle your widdle biddy baby boy and swaddle him and ask if you want to kiss the teeny widdle baby.

3. Act like you are a blind person.  Seriously.  I've seen it work on my favorite show, Pretty Little Liars.  Jenna here, is blind or isn't really blind, from an explosion the gang rigged to go off, but they didn't really think Jenna would be in there, and NOW, they all have to pay for what they've done.  And make sure you use one of those sticks because that really makes people stay away from you.  I mean, who wants to help a blind person with anything?



Shhhhhhhhhh.  These dark glasses will make anyone rethink approaching you and entering into a conversation.  And, you can just glare at people with a scowl.

4. Fake an accent.  Act like the person trying to talk to you must have you confused with someone else.  Similar to point number 1. up there, the disguise, a fake accent not only shows how worldly you are, but it's effective in making people feel absolutely crazy. Which they love.  I find the more stereotypes you can employ, the better.  Give it a try.  And for God's sake, BE LOUD.  Everyone knows foreigners are loud. 

So you see, there are several different tactics you may employ in keeping your personal space on public transit.  And if all else, fails, just quietly start saying, "Oh no, oh god no, OH NO NO NO NO, NOT HERE.  NOT NOW!"  While starting to move around really uncomfortably and covering your bottom. 

You are welcome, everybody. 

Things I Love Thursday - Part 32

I just got to walk back from my doctor to the office on a beautiful day in Chicago.  And DAMN let me just say I LOVE MY CITY. 



This Marilyn statue is next to the Wrigley Building.  It's huge.  And I still don't know how I feel about her. 

 It is a treat to be able to live, work and play in this gorgeous city.  My doctor is in my old neighborhood, right off Michigan Avenue, or the Magnificent Mile, as people like to call it.  I lived in an area called Streeterville.  I lived in a high rise, more like a hotel really.  After running away from a relationship and living situation I stayed in way too long in 2005, I finally got out on my own at 32 years old and lived on my own for a few years.  It was odd in that it was a tiny studio apartment that I paid way too much in rent for, but I had to get out on my own and I had to do it in a place that was available NOW. 

While I was walking back from the doctor today, I saw an old (she says with all respect) woman who lived in my building walking down the street.  She always had a huge smile and was cute as a button, and I was so happy to see her, I gave her a huge smile and may have scared her a bit.  It was just nice to know she's still out and about and enjoying herself. 

What this TILT is really about though are the feelings I had while walking through that area.  From smiling to crying in one block, I realized how grateful I am for my home and my family today.  I talked a bit about being homeless for a while in this Fancy Pants Big Shot post I did last week, but I don't really talk about that much as I feel like it was another lifetime for me.  However, when I walk around and encounter homeless folks who clearly have many issues going on, I feel among them.  They are my people.  I wonder if that will ever change?  I hope it doesn't, as it keeps me firmly planted in my reality.

My reality is if I drink, if I don't carefully watch my sobriety and do the things I need to do to maintain a spiritual program of health, I will lose everything and wind up homeless again.  I am of these people. 

I then got to thinking about my husband and our home.  Our little apartment that is so full of love and fun and safety that I got teary eyed.  As I go through this journey of trying to have a baby with my true love and life partner I am so filled with gratitude that I am exactly where I should be and with exactly the right and only person for me.  I never had that feeling my entire life.  I didn't have it with the man I married once upon a time a long time ago, and I never had it in any other relationship. 

Having a roof over my head is a gift I never take for granted, not for one second.  Having a home with a man who loves me so much and helps me feel that love and partnership every day, is a gift I still can't quite believe is happening to me sometimes.  I know I'm worthy, it's not that I feel unworthy.  I just can't quite believe that I have all of this love and security in my life.  We can lose everything, and we might, any day - we just don't know.  But for right now, in this moment, I am cherishing what I have and who I have and feeling such gratitude my heart is bursting.

And yes, I am a bit emotional lately.  Smiles.  I love every second of this life and I am so grateful I am alive to see what happens next. 



And there is my bus!  But I'm going to walk a bit.



On a Day Like Today

On a day like today, I feel F.I.N.E.

I feel anxious and sad. 
I feel nervous and scared. 
I feel excited and tentative. 
I feel hope. 
I feel gratitude. 

On a day like today I feel bitter and resentful. 
I feel angry. 
I feel lost. 
I feel overwhelmed. 

But the very best part of all that emotion is that I FEEL.  On a day like today I FEEL.  And it's all going to be OK. 

It's all going to work out in the end, if it hasn't all worked out, it isn't the end. 

I needed to write this little reminder today.  I needed to share it with people who understand.  Just because I feel all these awful and wonderful emotions doesn't mean everything sucks.  It doesn't.  We are a wide range of emotion.  We can feel so very sad and yet so hopeful at the same time. 

To FEEL is the greatest gift sobriety has given me.  And for that, it all goes back to gratitude.  Gratitude keeps me sober another day.  One day at a time. 

Things I Love Thursday - Part 31

Meeting People is Easy.  Thanks Radiohead*. 

I LOVE being excited to meet new people. It still terrifies me, and being on no anxiety drugs or alcohol or smokes anymore causes me to be a bit, shall we say, AWKWARD about meeting new people.

I have the honor of meeting some fellow bloggers this weekend at the St. Baldricks Baldathon. Sheila from Mary Tyler Mom (who's lovely daughter Donna is the inspiration for her starting all this raising money for Pediatric Cancer business); Deb at The Monster in Your Closet; Karin at Pinwheels and Poppies; Chris at From the Bungalow; Nikki at Moms Who Drink and Swear and Sam from Tripping While Standing Still (She is interviewing for a new jobby and can't shave now, but all monies still go to the charity.  Blog in construction, but stay tuned, it's good!)

Kids with Cancer are the reason we've all gathered together, and some are shaving their heads and we have worked TIRELESSLY to get money donated.  I've given money and I will continue to give money and shout outs and share this info as much as I can because it's so important. 

So, we know what the real mission of this event is.  Now, on to the totally superficial part of it.  I've never met these folks in real life.  I'm mortified when meeting people I admire, especially writers because I FREAK THE FUCK OUT.  I geek out for writers.  I met Augusten Burroughs and I squeeeeeed my underpants.  Seriously.  Just a little bit, but still.

"Katy, Live well and Best Wishes"  SWOON.  One of my "grab if building is on fire" possessions.

I am awkward in person you guys. Sure, I can be witty and cute online, but when you meet me in person, I am a spaz and a half.  I know it's hard to believe.  Now, I've read a ton of people telling Sheila that she should have a drink to calm her nerves at the event.  I don't have that luxury, so it's going to be full on spaz and sheepish drooling over meeting some of these writers and humans I admire so much.

Here's the scene, here's how it's going to go down.  I meet Sheila and the Gang (fresh new musical group!) and I WILL be sweating profusely.  I will have my ecig in my hand at all times, cleverly hidden so that no one will know what it is and may get nervous it's some kind of illegal camera or something. 



"Can you speak up please?  I can't quite hear you."

 I WILL stutter and say, "NICE" a lot.  Repeatedly.  I will hug and touch your hair.  I will want to lick your face.  But I won't do it. I will want to hook arms with you and walk around.  I will want to pet and stroke your hair.  I will drink 8300 Diet Cokes.  I will have to pee constantly.  I will tell you how much I admire you and how beautiful you are.  Even the boys.  I will pet and stroke your bald head after it is shaved for this great cause.  I will want to giggle and whisper secrets and be best friends forever.  I will cry.  I will.  Then, I will act all cool and aloof and charming and sexy as hell a la Joanie Holloway in my new leopard print dress I bought for the occasion.

So, if you survive all of this and still want to be my "friend" and read my work, I salute you.  Here's a tip, you may want to bring your dog whistle to call me off you or your friends. 

This event is going to be great you guys.  It's a bonus to be excited to meet great new people I admire.  You could say it's a THING I LOVE THURSDAY.

*Man, I love me some Radiohead.

I am a Fancy Pants Big Shot

Look at this nonsense. 

that girl right there is a big shot. She makes all kinds of important things happen with important people.  Mostly though, she makes an important but happy fool of herself.  Blurrily.  OH EM GEE.  FANCY BATHROOM SHOT.

I've been living large for two days at a conference of Global Leaders that my boss leads.  He's a really big shot,  I'm just a normal sized big shot. 

We are here:

GENTLY SPARKLING water.  I can't even begin to tell you how much that full on sparkling water grinds my gears.

The Peninsula Chicago.  It's a super fancy schmancy hotel in the city. 

Now, I grew up having nice things and my dad worked really hard in order to take us on nice vacations and we stayed in fancy places and ate in fancy restaurants and we got to experience a lot of really high class stuff, for which I'm grateful.

HOWEVER,  when I became a classy drunk, I became homeless and desperate and lived in a public park for the better part of a year.  So I feel safe in saying that I've lived the extremes.  I know we had more than most growing up.  I also know I had less than nothing as an adult, and now am somewhere in the middle where I am more than comfortable, and so grateful for everything I have.   I talk about gratitude a lot. Because I never take any of my life for granted.  Not for one second.  

BACK TO BEING A BIG SHOT.

ahem ahem ahem.

I have had a team of 5 people waiting hand and foot on my ass for 2 days.  There is one dude, who literally hustles up these stairs at least 3 times an hour.  He is constantly sweating.  He is awesome.  He says, "I love my job!"  with a big grin on his face every time he gets to the top of the stairs as he looks at me and the least I can do is give him a big grin back.  

The guys here at the meeting are all big shots in their particular part of the world, and we are kind of like my favorite ride, IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL ride.  Did I ever tell you about the time I saw Sir Paul McCartney on that ride?  I did?  Oh well, never mind then. 

I love my job, that is no secret.  I love my boss.  That is the key.  But some of these other dudes are fascinating.  I watch them come out each break to get on their phones, run down the stairs and pace back and forth to make their important calls, some in other languages and all very very URGENT. 

My boss comes out and chats with me and has some of my macadamia nuts here on my little desk the entire time.  DAMN YOU MACADAMIA NUTS AND YOUR DELICIOUSNESS DAMN YOU STRAIGHT TO HELL.

and these chocolate rock candies:

that are EVERYWHERE.

These guys at this meeting infuriate me and make me sad at the same time.  I have a soft spot for them because my dad was a business man who travelled all the time and worked really really hard to provide such a good life for his family.  But he was rarely home.  And I see these guys doing the same thing.  Some are so sweet and crazy about their kids, it melts your heart.  They want to show me pictures and tell me all about soccer and mathletics and Jimmy getting his driver's license.  Other guys are just all business.  They don't have a chink in their armor.  I can respect that.  I am that way a lot of the time too.  I don't show my cards.  If someone sees my phone with the picture of Eliza and Sally and a Christopher on it, I don't give away that they are my most favoritest creatures on the planet.  I almost don't give away how fucking desperate we are to have a baby because everyone asks and then it gets uncomfortable. I don't give away that I drink diet coke with lime instead of wine at dinner like everyone else in the room.  That I walk out to the ladies room and suck on my ecig for a moment of grace and sanity and serenity among the craziness that is just another dinner for most of them.  I guess what it comes down to is I love my job, but I am not OF my job. 

I have learned much in my 10 years here.  I don't have to fight every battle. I wrote about that here.

I can appreciate and see these people for more than what they project as an image.  My husband would say I probably give them more credit than they deserve, and maybe I do, but life is a lot easier that way.  And isn't that the goal?  Life is hard enough.  We can all cut each other a break.  Sigh.  Can you feel that?  Maybe it's all the pampering and delicious food I've eaten the past two days, but damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.  Wait.  What I mean is it feels good to just go through my days lately without the anxiety and the justified anger I used to carry around like a lead weight.  Without the need for the constant defending of myself and what I think you need to know about me.  To just exist feels pretty damn liberating.  To feel confident about who I am and the work I do is gratifying.  I've worked hard to get here.  Yeah sure, FIGHT THE POWER and DOWN WITH THE CORPORATIONS and all that, but really?  Thank you for my job and my paycheck and my benefits.  I don't need to fight this anymore.  It is so much more gratifying to accept it and be thankful for all I have been given.

All of this is to say, I am no big shot.  I don't want to be a big shot. It tickles me to say I'm a big shot because I am a tiny little cog in the machine.  And that suits me just fine today. 

I save my fabulousness for my real life. 

That Drowning Feeling

That overwhelming feeling of too much to do and too much to pay for and too much for your body to endure.  Work is overwhelming.  Trying to have a baby is overwhelming.  That drowning feeling.  That feeling of being SO GODDAMN SOBER.  I don't want to drink.  But being this sober, all the god damn time is a bit much. That release and feeling like nothing mattered at all, that is what I crave for about 5 seconds.

A nice Irish Whiskey sounds so lovely.  And then, I remember.  I play the tape out.  I know that one drink for me leads to a cheap gallon of vodka.  And losing control.  And losing EVERYTHING.  My home, my husband, my job, my cats, most of all my self respect.  And I lose it all QUICKLY.  I cannot afford this luxurious thinking that I can have a nice Irish Whiskey.  I can have the thought, but I have to play it all out.  I've learned this.  I do it all the time.  And it works. 

I am grateful I am sober.  More grateful for that one fact than anything else in my life.  Without sobriety, I have no life.  I would be dead or worse.  Hospitals, Institutions or Death.  Death would be easy.  The other two are hell on earth.  I've been there.  Jails and looney bins.  No place for a nice girl like me.  And yet, there I was time and time again. 

So yes, I am so grateful.  But there are some days when it seems overwhelming to just live life on life's terms.  I can't figure out the answers.  I don't know the questions.  I cannot do every single thing I want and need to do immediately and perfectly.  These are High Class Problems.  These are not the problems of a blackout drunk who doesn't know how she wound up in jail, in detox, in the psych award, yet again. 

This is the good life.  I am reminding myself as much as anyone reading this.  Life is so good when I have a choice.  Before I got sober, I had no choice.  I had to drink.  I had to maintain.  I had to self medicate.  Now, I get to live.  I get to choose what I want.  That doesn't mean I always get what I want.  In fact, it's about 50/50.  But I have some say in how I handle the outcome. 

When I feel this way now, I go to a meeting.  I talk to other Alcoholics.  I talk to my husband.  I talk to my family. I do my own version of praying to a Higher Power for wisdom and patience and guidance.  Above all, I reach out and help someone else.  That is the key.  HELPING SOMEONE ELSE.  And, simple as those things seem, they work.  Over and over and over.  They work.