Change is inevitable.
My poor sweet son breaks my heart every day. It is so strange as my daughter was such a mama's girl that I dreaded going to the bathroom because of the torture she went through if I didn't take her with me. Now my son is a daddy's boy. This does my heart good when I want to take a bath, or watch a show, or breath. But it kills me on so many levels right now.
My dear husband started back to school at the end of August and my son goes through this process, "daddy home?" Not right now. "daddy at work?" No he's at school tonight. "oh, daddy at school". Then the next night "daddy home?" I think so. "daddy doing homework" (these expressions come all inclusive with the sad eyes and the pouty lip) so then I attempt to be cool like daddy and play with our son. We go to his room and he will be pushing his trucks and four wheelin' over legos and books. I say can I play with that truck? No! that daddy's truck.. So I pick up an airplane. No! that daddys plane.. So I start to read a book. No! dont read.. Basically he wants me in his room to breath air but I can't play because what is not his, is daddy's.
I am dying here folks. Dying. At least I still have bath time.
Have you ever?
Have you ever been in a situation where someone just pisses you off and there really is nothing you can do about it? I am in this situation now. This person and I are equals (in my oppinion) as far as "rank" goes. However, I have more education (I have to) I have more common sense and this is the one that kills me I have more street sense then this women will ever have. The street sense is what just might get me in trouble. It is the street in me that wants to wrap her lower lips up over her forehead. This will shut her up I am sure.
But, since I have all this education and all this recovery all I can do is day dream. This woman is old enough to be my mother and she tattles on me. Now as far as I can tell even the managers think she is a joke but again that is only my perception.
Ideas? How do you deal with an annoying co-worker? She does her job well I am not knocking her abilities but her personality sucks, which mean her customer service skills suck, which means someone should lock her in a janitors closet and pick up documents twice a day. Kidding :) Maybe
My 9/11 Blog
I have a routine, I awake each morning and find the coffee in a daze. It isn't until I reach the bottom of the first cup that a coherent thought crosses my mind. 5 years ago today, I took that last sip and stepped into a realm of shock. A tragic accident I thought...
My boyfriend had just journeyed out the door to work and my daughter was fighting the morning war. I was dreading the impending monotony of the a college student life. Then the 2nd plane hit and my stomach jumped in my throat and acid tears came to my eyes. This was no accident. I promptly speed dialed my boyfriend to share my pain. My daughter came out the of war zone and focused on what would be a historical event in the making. I did hug her a little tighter as she left for school that day.
After my second cup and the seemingly endless replay of tragedy I mustered the courage to face the campus that day. Being a social science major that day was one of much debate. There were the hippee, anti-violence, pro-support people. Then there was the group of people who wanted to see much death and destruction to avenge the lives of those who died. Of course by now news of the Pentagon and the flight of courageous passengers was known. I was heart broken. I fit somewhere in the middle. I dont believe in war, I dont support war, but I also am not willing to sit back and let my country be attacked.
What should we as a nation do?
Fast Forward, 5 years. Did our nation make the right choice? Was military action the answer? I think not. This is my oppinion. I still today do not support war. Do I know what we as a nation could have done differently? Not really but I am not president for a reason. I am not a political public figure for a reason. I think we could have affected the terrorists without killing innocent people... And innocent people have died...
On that note, do I support our troops. 100%. Do I believe what they are doing is right? How can I disagree they are doing exactly what they signed up to do. The president is their commander and they follow orders. I also believe that most of our soldiers are enhancing the lives of many civilians. I believe they are painting a picture of freedom to the women and children of the war torn countries. For that I am grateful. I am grateful that there are men and women courageous enough to put their lives on the line for my freedom.
I fought the war of addiction and I was shackled physically daily by a terrorist that lived with in me. The day I gained freedom was the day I started to live. With this in mind I owe my "life" to those who defend the freedom I enjoy today. It is just too bad we have to imprison other countries in fear until a few leaders can be aprehended.
I pray today for those who have loved and lost as a result of the attacks and subsequent war. I not only pray for my brothers and sisters here in America but also the humans of the other countries affected. I also pray for those who live on and continue to watch as our world struggles for peace and serenity. I pray that each of us has the courage to defend our principles and voice our values. For this is Freedom.
Finally... It is Friday.
I love Friday's for so many reasons but mainly I love it because it is the evening of my home group. I dont usually have to get up to an alarm and I can frolick and play with my children for two whole days.
I took off for an all girls weekend over labor day and I must report my sweet girl remained sweet. My beautiful son got a black eye and my dear husband got bronchitis but everyone survived and I got some much needed down time. I did return to my sister in law visiting from Texas and so we had a great visit but also many late nights and lots of running around. Thus the reason I have looked forward to the weekend.
The ironic part of all this hope is that I have to work Saturday and Sunday I am in service meetings from 10 am to 5:00 pm or so. Hope is a funny thing though isn't.
Hope for me today is much more than a 4 letter word. My life was saved with but a small amount of hope. I have watched many people begin to live on just a little hope. You see for me hope is an easier concept than faith. Today I fly free with my faith but hope in the beginning was all I had. So for today. I HOPE my weekend is fantastic even though is wont be what I will it to be.
I appreciate the comments and if there are going to be more people reading, I will commit to writing more.
May HP guide and direct your thoughts and actions this weekend. Here's to hoping your will is aligned with HP's and miracles happen.
Private School - My First Taste Of A Higher Power
Boundaries were changed when I was in the fifth grade. I didn't understand the changes or the purpose of the move. With these changes came a new classroom, new students and new teachers. For me I typically thrive on change I enjoy the drama of it. I thrive on the challenge of something new. But this change didn't sit so well with me. On every level I rebelled. I fought and struggled with students, teachers and administration. The end result was me a small scared child locked in a closet. The closet was small and there was faucet with a basin on the floor. I had never seen anything quite like it. Later I would learn it was where the janitors kept their supplies. The door suctioned behind me and the room went silent but for my screams. I kicked, I hit, I cried and screamed. I was so afraid and I could hear nothing. Exausted and tired I slid to the floor and wept. I wanted my mommy.
Sometime later the door was opened and I was told to clean out my desk. I wanted to take my homework home and they wouldn't let me. I didn't notice then but they only allowed me to take that which belonged to me. I was escorted to the front of the school and out the doors. There in the parking lot was my mother. I never returned to that school and not a person inquired as to my well being.
Several days later I entered a small, private Christian school. I know today that this move was a hardship on my mother but then I was angry that I had to endure more change. Upon entering the classroom I saw a teacher with long flowing hair and she seemed to glow. Instantly I felt serenity in her presence. The class welcomed me and I experienced acceptance for the first time that I could remember. No one knew my past or had a sense of the anger I held. They just loved me. I didn't know it then but I believe today it was God's Grace.
The next morning we all convened in what was the lunch area. There we sang songs and praised the Lord (had no concept of this kind of worship). There was prayer and shared love. It was neat. I enjoyed it and I began to believe what I heard. I began to pray without knowing that my prayers would answered. I was finally happy in the school setting. This was my higher power guiding me, carrying me. I know today that the thoughts that harbored prior to this experience were dark and miserable. I believe today I was a very dangerous human and someone probably myself would have gotten hurt had I stayed in the public school.
By 7th grade it was time for me to re-enter the mainstream school setting. I was excited to do this. I was ready. My behavior in school had calmed quite a bit. At the time I believed I was less angry because by now I was maintaining with a little weed. I believed marijuana was the answer to going back to the jr. high and being successful. So I went back. In the beginning I felt outcast but knew it would take sometime to "hook up" I threw myself into my studies and isolated with my pipe.
I didn't want to be a nerd so I began to reach out to those people who I thought were cool. I saw them out back smoking cigerettes and I knew them from around. I basically purchased these friends with free alcohol and weed when I had enough to share. I still continued to get good grades and I excelled in the system. I was a high honor student and part of the National Honor Society. As a result my mother looked past the other behavior. She didn't get on me for breaking curfew, she allowed us to drink while at my house. She didn't see the impending doom on the horizon. I spiraled into the world of weed. I got pretty lazy and preferred to lounge around.
In the 8th grade near Christmas time I met a woman and began to watch her children. This woman would become my new best friend. She needed someone to stay up at night with her children as their sleep schedules were all messed up. It ended up being a big party and I was paid in speed. At first it was beans. Little mini speeders but it quickly progressed to line here and there. I fell in love with this demon. I couldn't get enough. My grades began to slip and my attendance was poor. I was just 14.
HP intervened when my mother realized the change in my academics. She believed I was "working" too much and that I could no longer babysit on weekdays. This slowed my using but didn't even come close to stopping it. Isn't this how all addicts begin. Progressively. I was 14, still a scared child holding on to a pipe and a razor blade. In this place my thoughts began to darken. I wanted to escape so badly. In my mind to run was the only way to be free.
I began to feel hopeless and desperate. I was so alone. I couldn't get my hands on the speed if I couldn't babysit. I didn't know it then but I know now I was hooked. I cried and I slept and I cried some more. And then I remembered a song from that school I attended. I remembered the words and I sang and I cried. I got through that night and I began to pray. I asked for forgiveness for lying to my mother. I asked for strength to do good in school so I could babysit again. I asked God to get me out of this. These prayers were basically answered. My grades rebounded and my mother began to let me go again.
Isn't this the prayer of all addicts help me get back to my using. Help me out of this?
The summer before 9th grade. The party began. More will be revealed...
