Not smoking is going terribly. There is something completely wrong with my thinking and I "think" (the keyword is think) the problem is I quit using all kinds of chemicals and compounds that people where hazmat suits to enter homes where they are made so it should be no problem to stop this use of something grown in a field. Right.?
Okay maybe stopping was a problem back when I first stopped everything else but it has be 8 years and I have attempted to stop smoking probably 12 times. I have even had success once while pregnant. Now.....I have tried again and am failing miserably.
The only reason I have not purchased a pack of camel filters is the difficulty I will have telling the world, namely those I love and a few I dont that I didn't succeed.......again. I wont call it failure because every day I go with out nicotine is a day won, right. BLAH BLAH BLAH
I have been taught that sharing lessons the power it has over you. Right now sharing with you it is not working so much. It doesn't give me strength and resolve to go another day. Why is it internet that this fucking chemical has such control over my person and my brain.
Thanks and hey..........Have a Beautiful Weekend.
T.......
If I ever had visitors I would probably blog more often :)
Today, I find I need to blog for me... and for my friend.... and for my other friend...
Yesterday I spent an hour or so at the hospital. You see a girl whose red penned writing got me through one of the worst times of my life is really going through a tough time. I would like to say it is the worst time of her life but I dont know. I dont know because I have not taken the time to learn all the intricate details that are her journey.
Rumor has it.......... all over the place. But, the bottom line is she took too much of something accidentaly on purpose. Was trying to feel good or not feel at all I dont know. I just know we almost lost a beautiful soul. It gets me right in the center of my heart when a human suffers this way. I am not a touchy feely kind of person. I am loving, kind, caring but......brutally honest. So, as sorry as I am I want to kick her square in the ass. How selfish can one person be? Trust me I have seen my share of this kind of behavior and funerals are a hard pill to swallow but I find being loving, caring and honest with those who live is difficult.
I dont know what to say to this friend. Other than, what did you learn and do you think theres a reason you lived and ******** died even though he never would have given his life over to the disease? Do you think there is something you are supposed to learn? and finally How can I help you do that? Love me.
I know this is probably a bunch of rambling to most but man all those connected to this tragedy are all poor _______. All I can think is poor ________? What are you talking about...the only upsetting thing to ______is probably that she is still here, or that you are all there watching her or more reality like where is my next fix.
Thanks Internet now I wont offend all those who love my friend and I can keep my secret resentment not secret but safe.
Have you ever felt OLD?
For some reason every year when I get older it feels like just another day. But then along comes March when my little girl she gets older and then I of course become ancient!!!
My daughter will be 14 on Sunday. 14.........I have not lived long enough nor have I had enough experiences for my child to be 14. How will I do this with out really screwing her up? This child is so independent, so completely different from me. Exactly what I set out to create 14 years ago.
March 19, 1992 I waddled my way into the hospital a scheduled induction. I was but 17 years old but I knew that I would far surpass my mother when it came to being a parent. My daughter was going to be beautiful, fashionable and my best friend. I just knew that I was far too cool to not get what I wanted. My daugther would get to do what she wanted. She would be anything she dreamed.
Little did I know being a parent is the most difficult task I have ever under taken. I have been successful at just about everything I have tried. I mean I was a great drug dealer, I was the perfect victim in an abusive relationship, I was a model inmate, I am great at recovery (it doesn't take much just dont pick up), I breezed through my bachelors degree and graduate with honors. But, I am a terrible parent so She tells me.
When I was 17 I didn't know that I too would want to protect my daughter from herself. I didn't realize that just being mom made me uncool. I didn't realize that the bond, the love the gentle heartbeat that I cherished at one day old would turn into this screaming hormone infested young woman. I didn't realize that I would look at her beauty at 14 and have to arrest the urge to chain her in the basement for the rest of her life to keep her near and close to me.
So today, reality has set in. I am the strict mom, I am the unfair mom, I am a mom.
My daughter has blossomed in to a beautiful blonde bombshell, she is bright and intelligent, she is witty and charming. She dances like no other and loves to be a little social butterfly. I like to think I had something to do with her great personality. I like to think I played a part in her not having to experience life as I did.
I like to think that she can talk to me about anything (not that she does) but that she can. I like to think that when she chooses to share her joy or her pain with me that she gets an attentive response (even if I am just rolling my eyes). She knows that I am there for her, that I love her and that I care about what is happening to her and what might happen to her. I am the mother bear and I will protect and defend my little girl.........
Happy Birthday Baby & no your not getting a cell phone........yet!
March is such a sweet time for me.
March 17, 1998 I was able to go before a judge. This was my day of reckoning. I had just over 60 days clean and I thought I was the queen of recovery. I knew all about this 12-step thing and the judge was going to see that I was different and deserved leniency. The funny part is the probation department saw it that way, the prosecuting attorney saw it that way. Why wouldn't the judge?
March 17th, 2 days before my daughters birthday, her 6th birthday but my first one clean. I wore green and got into my step dads car for the 20 minute drive to court. I said a little prayer but it lacked humility, it lacked regret. HP must have known.
20 minutes to Davis County, 15 in the courtroom and quickly sentenced to 1 year in the county jail. WHAT! I could not believe what I was hearing. Don't you know who I AM! I have been clean, I went to a meeting every fucking day.... Please just give me a couple days to get my affairs in order. The judge responds with a resounding NO! Immediately shock, dispair, humiliation flood over me. I am scared and afraid. I am sad and ashamed. My poor daughter. She will not understand.
The gaurd escorts me back where they take my shoes and my jewelry and inspect the back of my throat and the small space between my ear and my head. I promptly go to the pay phone to reach no one. No one is home. I watch some day time tv but I can't recall what. I only know it was boring as hell and my mind raced with the year that streched before me. A year? My first charge...
At lunch they take me to a holding cell and there I meet a woman in blue. She is holding for court from the other county. She has crazy, brunette curls and a smile. I cannot relate. What is there to smile about. She taught me about gratitude that day. She told me how fortunate I was that the food here was so great. She told me how her institution fed the inmates and she HOPED to be around for dinner. I thought this chic, she's nuts.
Well she wasn't in the holding cell for dinner, but I sure was. About now I am pissed. I can't even watch tv. I have nothing as I sit and wait. These bastards was all I could think. Finally in complete desperation I hit my knees. Dear Father, dad, God whatever is out there. HELP ME. I can't do this alone, I can't do this 1 year, I dont want to. HOW.... I saw very clearly 2 paths. One was the easy, soft, way. I could sit around, play games, fit in. Or, I could take everything this place had to offer. (whatever that was) and not get in the mix. I could learn. (all of these thoughts weren't clear or concise but I understood my
Choice). I asked for only one thing a room mate I would get along with. I had been here before and was miserable with a roommate that I did not relate with.
Finally I am rolled into the place I would call home. It was late and everyone was locked down. I didn't know who was there or if I even knew anyone. Coming from the pits of hell I was bound to know someone. I needed a sister to hook me up, right. I get into my cell A12 and I am alone. I am alone. Do you hear that internet. I dont have to put up with anyone's shit but my own. I was blessed.
The next morning I awoke to the sound of RAZOR'S. That meant I could leave my cell. I could walk and stretch and shower without anyone else waiting in line. So up I got. I jumped into the shower and let the luke warm water run, then it stopped, then I pushed the button, then it ran, then it stopped. (If you have this experience I am sure you can find the humor in this sentence). I got out and walked back to A12. I couldn't use the phone until 9:00am so I got back into bed and laid there. I talked to that force that was out there. I continued to ask HOW I was going to make it. HOW could I make this work?
At 9:00 I called my family to learn that my future wasn't near as bad as I had envisioned. The judge sentenced me to 1 year, but..........I was given a review in 60 days. 60 days I could get out if I was good. Could I be good? I wasn't sure but I promised my daughter. I swore to her I would be home from now on for her birthday. I promised my mom. I promised promised promised. I got off the phone and immediately began to work my magic. You see back then I had a way of conning, of working it, of getting what I wanted. I had a reputation and I used it to my advantage. Pretty soon I had envelopes, pencils, paper, shampoo, soap, a brush, some hair ties and of course candy. All the things a good inmate needs. Then I hit up the girls in orange. You see orange is the magic color in Davis County. If you wear orange it means you have a job. If you have a job it means a few things one of which I was interested in. I wanted to look GOOD in 60 days. I found out how to get on the list for a job and I did so immediately. At 1:00pm I was on the list for work and school.
I got a job after 6 days, I went to school every day, I went to classes and church I did everything as I should. 60 days later I was released........just as soon as this other institution had a bed. So I waited and I waited and I waited. 10 days later I was free. Kind of.
My point is March 17, 1998 I met this beautiful soul that taught me about gratitude. On March 22nd of this year she celebrates 7 years clean. She is a sweet girl, one of my best friends. She stood in my wedding, she watched my son be born and she has seen me at my worst and my finest. It is a sweet, sweet time.
March 17, of this year my sweet dear husband celebrates 6 years clean. 6 years....He has practiced these principles. 5 years he has shared them with me. I am a very blessed woman to have a man like him. I always share, "if you dont think your man is the best, then you better keep looking"
March is spring, new beginnings, change and love. I love my life, my HP, my family and my friends. March it is a sweet sweet time, for me.
Hi again internet.
I thought I would take a moment and express my love, my gratitude and my undying respect to the most amazing women to grace this planet. (If you dont feel this way about your grandmother, I am sorry)
My grandmother has always been my saving grace. As a young child growing up in a dysfunctional, single parent home, riddled with alcoholism; going to grandmothers house was always a pleasure. She would take me and treat as only a princess should be treated. We would shop and eat and get our hair done. Later we would cook something special. My husband and children should thank her for this. She would talk to me about religion, politics, the importance of voting and of course money management. For her generation she is quite different. She comes from a time when women stayed home to raise children. Not my grandmother... She worked in the cannery while grandfather was off to war, she worked for the railroad along side my grandfather and later when he retired she worked at Hill while HE yes HE was a stay at home dad to my youngest aunt. Talk about modern. :)
Today she turns 82 years old. She doesn't smoke, or drink or overspend. She is the epitomy of good sense. I hope one day to be just like her. I love you grandma and I hope everyday you know just how much your wisom and grace means to me. I hope you always know that it is you and your presence that maintained our family when we could not maintain ourselves.
Terri
Silly Silly me.
It is almost as if just saying out loud "just for today" i gave myself permission to stop helping those people in my last entry. On the day that I chose to quit smoking.....again for the 8th time in 8 years I also gave up my committment to serve the NURO building. Now, I dont think not smoking had anything to do with my tolerance level. I am just sick of egos, everyone elses and MINE.
February 18th at 7:15 pm my mother and I smoked a cigarette and I haven't had one since...yet. Who knows I am not setting myself up to think this time I am stronger. Now the way I went about quiting this time was with a drug....huuuhhh I know I am a good addict to think a pill will fix me. Zyban, seemed to be a miracle. I wasn't too grouchy, I wasn't eating everything I could touch and swallow. All was well. Then Presidents day I break out in what I define as hives. Big.Fat.Itchy Welts all over my arms, legs, ankles, and neck. I call the Dr. on Tuesday and they proceed to tell me to stop taking the medicine. Which I do.. When they call back to tell me I can not take anymore Zyban and there is nothing else this doctor will prescribe I swiftly make a complete ass of myself. I ask this medical professional if there is anyway I can keep take this drug (that I am allergic to) so long as I take benadryl to counteract the effects? The trained professional proceeds to inform me that this might be a problem when my throat closes up and I can no longer breathe.
SO, since February 21st I have not ingested any chemicals other than caffiene. Internet be very afraid.
Just For Today
I have been thinking some about this whole blog thing. Did you know people make a living out of this? How is it that people are so talented as to take an ordinary life and create something entertaining,........something that raises money?
I can think of many things I would like to have money for but I have been thinking could I in my spare time create a recovery blog that might raise a little money for my non-profit venture with 8 other recovering individuals.
Maybe I will have to reach out to those blogging women I pass time with during the week?
Here is the information. In our area in Northern Utah there was no place for people in recovery to meet or to gather unless they were a member of a specific fellowship. This created a difficult situation on many occasions due to the addicts ability to procrastinate. It also was difficult when irresponsible members allowed their children to create problems with groups meeting in rented space. SO, a group of people got together and decided to find a way to provide a place for all members of the recovery community to gather and share their experience, strength and hope.
This place opened with a bang, well it opened several times but the official successful gathering was New Year's 2006. This is bound to be a great place. A life saving place. A place where no addict seeking recovery need ever die.
However, I have apprehension about the money it has cost several members and 1 in particular. How can this club ever become self sufficient, let alone repay these selfless people? This is my journey to find support financially to ensure this club exists for a long time.....just for today.
This is the beginning......
As for the whole debate of addiction (is it environmental? or is it hereditary?). I haven't got a clue. I have seen people from extremely functional families be low-down, gutter type addicts. I have seen people from very dysfuntional families riddled with addiction go on to be very successful, non-using type people. So which came first? I don't have the answer.
For me..... I think there were many life experiences that prepared me to turn to something outside of myself to cope with pain.
In the beginning, I am told I had a carefree life made up of a successful father and a stay at home mother. That all came to a crashing halt that fateful day, July 1, 1977. My father was violently taken by a single truck accident. No witnesses, no indication of why it happened. Suddenly, I was a member of a single parent family on the verge of poverty. My mother chose alcohol as a way to cope and it wasn't long after that she was struggling just to keep us (her and I) together.
I have small glimpses in my memory where I remember being lined up near a fireplace with 5 or 6 other children dressed in our finest Sunday clothes. I am told this from a time when I was in a foster home. From this time I also remember feeling different from those children, isolated and alone. (This is the beginning for any addict, isn't it?)
Run concurrently with this memory is a happier time with my grandfather, picking raw, fresh potatoes and squirting them clean. Then pop... right in my mouth, no salt, nothing. Pure heaven I'd call it. I remember sitting at my grandparents table and being told to eat all on my plate or it would be breakfast, getting forked for having my elbows on the table and laughing at my cousin as he sat across from me. I am told this is where I went after foster care. I remember a happiness but still an unworthiness. Almost like I wasn't quite good enough to feel happy (This is the beginning for an addict, isn't it?)
In the beginning my hero, my father was taken from me. There is no thing that can replace that emptiness. No amount of chemical could fill it, no amount of therapy has cured it and even today in recovery.......the loss is evident. I have just found a new way to cope.
Stay tuned for more.........if you're interested.
