Mental energy


When I read Don Miguel Ruiz’s book, the Four Agreements, it was like he was writing it for me!!!  Well, he was; he just didn’t realize it :)  There is a part that talks about the fact that each day we have a finite amount of mental energy to expend.  I always wondered why trying emotional times left me zapped.  I know now and I love continuing to learn why people act they way they act, especially me.

Here is what my codependently (ma word yo) rehearsed conversation sounded like in MY HEAD:

Me:  I want to discuss something with you.

Him:  Okay, what is it?

Me: I have been looking for a very-part time job that wouldn’t interfere with the girls’ schedule and I actually have an interview set up.  There is a spot available two mornings a week at blah-blah church taking care of babies.  I’m really excited about it.

Him:  Oh, that’s great!  You LOVE babies!  You are GREAT with babies!  They will be lucky to have you!

Me:  Thanks!

How it really happened:

Me: I want to discuss something with you.

Him: Okay, what is it?

Me:  I have been looking for a very-part time job that wouldn’t interfere with the girls’ schedule and I actually have an interview set up.  There is a spot available two mornings a week at blah-blah church taking care of babies.  I’m really excited about it.

Him: Why?  You mean…a job?  Why would you do that? (looks at me like I have two alien heads)

Me:  (eye roll)  Are you serious?  That’s how you respond to me?  Ohmagod.  I don’t trust us.  I’m going to do something that makes me happy.

Then, after a match of hurling words, many ugly, from both sides, he crossed a boundary of saying something off-limits about one of my children.  I calmly stood up, picked up my keys & sunglasses & left.  Just to remove myself from the situation.  I had worked out earlier today.  A hard workout.  I was tired.  I had caked on sweat.  My hair looked like my mother’s.  I had to pee.  I just wanted to park in the WalMart parking lot and sleep.  But I couldn’t.  I had to pee.  Other than that, I would have.  Then I assessed my situation and saw it for the pitiful piece of crap that it was.  I went home.  He had gone into his office.  I ate stir-fried veggies with a healthy dose of Bragg’s Amino acids and a leftover crabcake.  I took a shower, got ready for the rest of the day & took a long, drool-filled nap.

At one point in our argument, which, in my opinion, never should have evolved to an argument, I shouted, “I will try to be the person I used to be!  She drank & was miserable!  Is that what you want???”

BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANT.  AND THAT SHOULD BE ENOUGH!!!!!!  Where, for fuck’s sake is the value of my OWN HAPPINESS??????  Even recounting this makes my eyes fill with tears, anxiety ramp up, and me just want to go find him and kick him in the nuts.  I’m tired of feeling like THE PROBLEM every time I risk stating out loud my needs, wants and desires.

I hate the way I feel.

My latest hope is that if I stay real with healing and recovery from codependence, I will gain strength by keeping my life open to change.  I know the only person I can change is myself.  I get that.  And thank God for that.  I don’t think I have the mental strength to even think I could change another person.

In the last year, I have gotten sober and attacked my codependency issues HEAD-ON.  That is an amazing feat.  I am proud of myself and the work I have done on myself.  It ain’t over.  And I won’t be that person again.  Hell no.  Oh, and I also enrolled in the Institute for Integrative Nutrition to become a certified Health Coach, which I am now.  I graduate at the end of June.  I have paid my tuition myself, out of the money I am allotted to run our house.  There was no congratulations there either, after I announced I was going to do something outside of my comfort zone, and enroll in school.  I don’t know why I think this would be any different.

My old therapist used to say, “Nothing changes if nothing changes.”  Well, I’m changing.  And I’m going to stop anytime soon.  :)

Slips and realization


Today is Divine Mercy Sunday.  I surely need His Mercy today.  And every day.

This week.  O>M>G> – so crazy it deserves arrows, not periods.  I read the most profound thing on FB. “What we allow is what will continue.”  OUCH, baby, very ouch.

So, I can’t say I don’t know why I allow it to continue.  I know that I struggle with strength to divide our family and insert sure heartache into our lives.  But our lives are already pretty divided and offer heartache daily.  I don’t get it, but I know I’m getting better.  I think recognizing the shift is a good thing.

I.AM.SOBER.  I relish in that.  Gotta say, this past week had me worried.  And pissed off.  I actually questioned my sobriety.  On the stairway, looking at my husband, telling him if this continued, I wondered if I could stay sober.  Those words just hurt my heart.  My journey is hard.  It is MY journey.  Since January, I have worked with an amazing psychologist, Dominic Herbst, one-on-one, every Tuesday morning, via telephone.  He is amazing.  He is expensive.  He has workshops around the country.  I decided to start seeing him out of desperation.  All Hell broke loose in my house in April 2014, and I did not bury my head in the sand.  I grabbed God, begged Him to NOT LEAVE ME and to SHOW ME where HE WANTED ME TO GO.  He did.  He always does.  He just wants to be invited.  God, He loves me so much.  He is with me always, holding the pieces of my heart together and showing me that my heart is whole, not broken and that I am worth dying for.  Anywho.  This journey has been the undoing of horrible neglect and unwantedness since I was in utero.  Yes.  My mom didn’t want me.  I wasn’t planned.  Many unplanned humans are still wanted.  I wasn’t.  That’s okay.  My dad loved me enough for the both of them.  But then he died.  I was 8.  You can fill in the blanks.  Factor in a mother who wasn’t onboard anyway and suffered her own undealt with losses and there you go – a very misguided, easy to take advantage of kiddo with no one to imprint upon.  No one to love her and show her the way to be a lady.  My mother likely could have said the same thing.

So, I chose sobriety.  First, I chose Alanon.  Then I realized AA was where I needed to be.  I am so grateful for that choice.  11 months and counting.  It is difficult to have alcohol removed as the solution when the problems are all the same. My husband has not changed.  He has managed to squelch a lot of his anger, but it squirts out at odd times in odd ways.  I won’t be quiet about it anymore.  I simply won’t.  I realize that I am only as sick as the secrets I keep.  Those days are over.  It’s liberating.  And possibly helpful for someone else.

The problem of the day – why do I feel compelled to keep those old agreements I made with myself?  For instance, I have spent YEARS putting everyone else’s needs ahead of my own.  So much so that I am now discovering myself in a whole new way and I have to say, I like myself.  A lot :)  I am strong.  Physically and emotionally.  I realize I stay to try to absorb the suffering of my children.  That’s wrong.  I can’t buffer them from life.  I am hurting them by doing so.  We have to face life on life’s terms.  And guess what?  Life’s terms often suck.  Big time.  Before I came up into my oasis of classroom/workout room/happy energy space, I was sucking down a smoothie in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar, feeling like I needed to be “on call” for my husband.  Internally, I was thinking, “I need to stay close; he may need something or call for me.”  Yuck.  Double-fricking-yuck.  Go yuck yourself.  No one considers me that way.  So, then, truth from a healing-yet-raging-codependent, I have to step myself through the crap – ‘what would i do if i didn’t think that way?’ I realized I really wanted to write (here) at that moment.  So, I began the walk to the stairway.  “Where are you going?”  “I have some writing to do.” And that was that.

My 12-steps really keep me plugged in and focused on what is right for me.  I try to have balance in my day; I try to be of service; I try to see people in a loving light; I try not to be selfish; I try to make amends right away if I do something or say something dumb.

There, I feel better.  Writing is such a therapeutic exercise for me.

Codependency slips


I wasn’t sure what to call this post and realize the truth works. Now let’s just hope this actually posts. I’ve been doing well under the circumstances. That’s code for I’m sober, I’m accountable, I’m working my 12 steps, etc…hubs isn’t (well he’s sober:). It’s extremely difficult to exist near someone who consistently thinks I’m the only broken one. Remaining quiet as opposed to loud does not equate to mental wellness. We were scheduled to go to a family encounter tomorrow in Dallas – that plan is called off pending my “sincere apology” for the way I acted this afternoon. What-the-what???! One of the earliest things I learned in recovery from codependency was that apologies on demand are all about control and power. Ain’t happening. Next on tap as I came to bed was an order to pack some bags and get the f out. In due time, due time. So the codependent slip for me is his bigness, his loudness IS scary. I hate the way I feel. I am bugging the uknowwhat outta my HP – God – to help me thru this. It sucks. It is almost debilitating. I just freeze. Even tho I know what he says isn’t true, it shakes me and scares me. The difference now is that I don’t keep secrets anymore. Keeping secrets keeps me sick. Not interested. So, that’s ma slip. There are tons of good things on my mind to share, but I’m really exhausted.  


9 months sobriety today :)


I’m really happy about that. Me, a cradle Catholic who had her first glass of wine while sitting in a high chair. SITTING IN A HIGH CHAIR, PEOPLE. You can’t make this stuff up. But, as I continue on my journey, I see things through different eyes. It’s natural, I know. Me, who failed EVERYTIME giving up alcohol for Lent. 100% of the time I gave up alcohol for Lent, I failed. I thought God was laughing at me. He probably was. If I had a spot like Him, I would laugh at me. But it’s all good. 9 months! Go, me! Things for me are good. Things for everything & everyone else I’m involved with – not so good. Some relationships are stellar, like with my son. And my daughters and step-children. Those are all great. Okay, it’s me and hubs. We still suck. We still suck in the same house. Barely. But I don’t want to get into that today. I treated myself to a run. As I was running in the back of the neighborhood, I remembered why I started running at all. “No wife of mine is going to work out at the health club while I am stuck in the office all day making money.” sigh. what.EVER. Not having any fight in me, BUT having an overload of co-dependency, I submitted. Easily. Okay, I understand. But I still had a lot of junk in the trunk after two back to back pregnancies. Hmm. Let’s see. No gym. Fat ass. What’s a girl to do? Running! It’s free, right? Free enough. I have shoes. I have a stroller. So, that’s what I did. I started running and pushing my little bundles. Everyone loved it and the fresh air was just what we needed. Then came a 5K for my son’s school. I had to look up how far that was and then go mark it in the neighborhood. I couldn’t run a mile without stopping. And that part of the neighborhood seemed SO FAR AWAY! But, I just kept plugging away at it. I missed that 5K because I couldn’t run the whole thing. Derrrr. Ever heard of walking? Anywho. I kept at it. The following March I ran a 5K in 29 minutes & I was hooked. I was in competition with myself. And talk about piss off my husband. Back then, I thought he’d be happy because I was doing what he wanted. (LOL) “If I do THIS, he will be happy! Oh, if I do THIS, he will be happy!” ppsssh. Whatever. It didn’t happen then, and it’s not happening now. BUT, the GOOD NEWS? I don’t care! I focus on myself and God’s Will for me. Each and every day, I beg Him to be in my life, keep me from the desire to drink, to guide me where He wants me to go. He does a great job! I do okay. But, that’s why there are 24 hours & then it all starts again. We give up control – again. We ask for His help – again. We do the best we can – again.

Next week, I am taking my daughters to DisneyWorld. Mother/daughter time. I.can’t.wait. We are all very excited. Except 8th grader. She doesn’t want to miss some Mardi Gras festivities happening at school. But she has an airline ticket, so if she wants to come, she can change her mind at the last minute!

Through God’s help, I am realizing that I really am only responsible for myself and my children – the young ones because they still need a lot of raising!

Life is good. Thank You, God. Peace out, y’all!

Ps – I just saw that today’s date is the 5th! My sobriety date is May 6!👸👏💃☺️


“No wife of mine is going to spend her days at the gym!”

“Okay…I’ll figure out something.” 😆16 marathons later…bam! Stronger than I thought🙏😊



So much to say but for now…daughter starts ‘regular’ school tomorrow. This is a good thing. All interested parties are a double thumbs-up. I just went in to have a moment with her – a prayer & a blessing for her to start this new part of her little life. Didn’t happen. She was deaf, resistant to turning over her iPad & to make matters worse, neville apparently had escaped the confines of the laundry room (my remedy for cold weather/persnickety beagle/need for all of us to sleep), run upstairs & was frisky over the shenanigans…all this was fueled by 9th grader who wanted to say goodnight to her little sister (code for ‘I want to rub in the fact that I don’t have school till Tuesday) but was laughing hysterically at the antics – neville was growling, 8th grader couldn’t hear, I was freaking out because I didn’t want him to bite her. Geez.

I have the iPad tucked away. Neville is
Back in the laundry room. No prayer was said. No blessing was bestowed. No touching mother daughter mention was had. 9th grader is in bed. 8th grader is now In bed after getting fussed at by her dad. I’m going to pray anyway. And be thankful I’m sober. Peace.out.



Second Sunday of Advent. Trying really hard to be present. This whole sobriety thing is a trip. Like a hard trip in summer without air conditioning or a credit card hard. Yesterday was 7 months sobriety/dry for me. I don’t have a sponsor and I Really, really want one. I’m busy. I worked out last night at almost 10:00. Just everything happening at once. I am going to see my son before Christmas. I keep reminding myself that’s why God gave us 24 hours in a day. I’m trying to make goals for each day and that seems to be helping. I don’t know how normal-seeming people do it. My big book is a huge blessing. I continue to read and study my 12 steps. I know God is with me. He is all over those steps, y’all. Just needed to vent a little bit.

Merry Christmas.

Making the most


So here I am – coffee, fireplace going, successful sleepover for 14-year old daughter…my 9th grader just left with her dad to play her first high school soccer game. It’s 30 degrees where she’ll be playing. I assumed I would be taking her. I know, assumptions aren’t smart. Sigh. I’m just surprised.

I have my sweet Neville right by my side



Next weekend I am flying with my daughters to see my son in Los Angeles. They haven’t seen their brother since May. They will be so pleasantly surprised.

Anywho…I’m still loving my school and beachbody coaching. I also discovered something else that is now on my radar – there is an essential oils blending class that I can take online! That’ll be after Institute for Integrative Nutrition. It sounds pretty awesome. I’m really into candle making – all natural/organically scented – my latest batch includes Eucalyptus/Lavender and Peppermint – they both smell pretty amazing. It turns out I’m pretty good at it! And I’m really interested in it. I have always been intrigued by scents and how they affect us…

Gotta run – more later.
Peace out😊