Friday, April 13, 2012


You know the old saying, "Shoot for the may hit the moon"?  Well I've decided to change it to, "Drive to the parking will shoot the moon"!

A few weeks back I was really struggling with feelings of depression, helplessness, and self-pity.  So I drove to a parking lot.  Well, not just any parking lot.  It was the parking lot of Westside Liquor located on the East side of town...(why they named it Westside I will never know...)

I am not exactly sure what my intentions were when I arrived there.  Just wanted to sit and ponder.  Ponder about going in and buying "stuff" (good "stuff").  I just wanted to buy a little liquid silencer to shut up the constant crap spinning in my head.  You know the crap, "your a failure", "you suck", "your a lowsy person", "why can't you just get your act together", "you know you wouldn't have these problems if you'd only do this, and this, and this, and that."  And so on, and so forth.

So as I was pondering in my car I noticed two more vehicles in the parking lot along with their occupants.  I'm really talented, I can ponder and watch people all at the same time.  Soon I found that these people were kind of entertaining. 

There was a boy in a truck (older model--I'd say 1990's--dark blue--didn't catch the license plate) and two girls in a maroonish colored car.  They were young people--early 20's or so.  The boy was out of his truck leaning into the passenger side window of the maroonish car and appeared to be chatting away...

What happened next saved my sobriety that day.  The twenty-something boy stood up, turned his back to the girls in the marroonish car and shot the moon.  Yup!  He pulled down his pants not once, but twice!  And I smiled--real big...

But God is good and knows all that I need...

No longer was I pondering.  The spin in my head had stopped.  And I drove away without purchasing the liquid silencer.  That visual was nothing I needed, yet all that I needed.

I will be eternally grateful to my Creator for the sun, the stars, and most of all the FULL moon.

That it folks,

"I like to think that the moon is there even if I am not looking at it"
~Albert Einstein

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Depression is...

So I've taken a couple of weeks off from work.  Trying to get my "act together".  It is slow progress. 

I still dread the mornings and fear the moment I open my eyes.  It seems that if I can prolong the reality that a new day has arrived I can keep panic at bay.

What am I afraid of ??

I have no clue... 

I usually wake up with two cats and one dog in bed with me....they are happy enough companions...nothing to fear with them at my side.

I roll from my bed after 20 or so snooze alarms and do the usual stuff.  You know...let the dog out, go potty, make a cup of coffee, water the animals, clean the cat litter, wander through the house and pick up the throw pillows, fold up the blankets and put them back on the couch, pick up pop cans and put them in the garbage, throw Jameson's stinky socks in the laundry (the ones forever behind the bathroom door). 

By this time I have been up about thirty minutes and I am already exhausted and need to battle the urge to go back to bed.  It is then that I see the crumbs on the kitchen counter...the counter that was clean when I went to bed last night...and just seems like too much for me to handle. 

Yup...Depression is crumby... 


Wednesday, April 4, 2012


I feel like I've been "living a recipe" for the past three plus years.  I've turned sobriety into a checklist of "do's" and "don'ts" expecting success.  And not only have I had the expectation of success, I've also lived with the assumption that if I did not ever drink again I would also never experience Depression ever again...

There...I said it.

Funny, I don't feel any better now that I've confessed it...

I've struggled with depression since age 18 or so.  Some who know me, might say even earlier than that.  I really don't know and really don't care anymore.  Years surviving depression are not celebrated like sobriety years where you get a medallion and get to hear the whoops, hollars, and claps of your fellow sober-mates.  No... It is nothing like that.  It sucks!

So here I am again!  Pissed off at myself.  I thought that I had found the magic Depression Bullet when I got sober.  I actually thought that this would never, ever, ever, ever happen again if I quit drinking.  I was wrong.

Why is it that for a fellow sufferer I have compassion and empathy?  Tell them to care for themselves, be gentle, be kind....after all, Depression is a disease, right?  They didn't choose this.  Why would anyone CHOOSE this?

However when it comes to my own self-analysis I reject this.  My thoughts accuse me, "If I'd only be kinder to others, loose a few pounds, exercise, read my Bible consistently, quit eating sugar, quit eating corn, quit eating wheat, quit consuming aspartame, practice meditation, be more disciplined, stop swearing, volunteer, appreciate my husband..." then this problem will disappear...*poof*

Why is it that when it comes to my personal experience with Depression I see it as a character flaw, a spiritual malady, an excuse to indulge in self-pitious, ruminating thoughts?

Yup that's a loaded question, isn't it?  I'm ripping up the recipe card and starting over (again)...

Thanks friends for listening,

Thursday, January 5, 2012



It has been three years (1095 days).  So much remains the same; yet so much is different.  I am still cranky, prone to resentment and find my feelings are hurt easily...What is different you ask?  The knowledge that the remedy for misery doesn't lie in a bottle; but in choosing each day goodness, gratitude, and Grace. 

"Gratitude as a discipline involves a conscious choice. I can choose to be grateful even when my emotions and feelings are still steeped in hurt and resentment. It is amazing how many occasions present themselves in which I can choose gratitude instead of a complaint. I can choose to be grateful when I am criticized, even when my heart still responds in bitterness. I can choose to speak about goodness and beauty, even when my inner eye still looks for someone to accuse or something to call ugly".
Henri J. M. Nouwen