Monthly Archives: November 2015

Funny the way it is…


…or random brain dump…whatever…

I go to God with everything. Absolutely everything. I used to think He didn’t want to be bothered with “little things” but then I realized that if it concerns me, then it concerns Him. He loves me that much and is always available to help me. I also realized that when I try to run the show, I suck. So, it works out. Hubs take…well, who cares; it’s flawed. It boils down to “I think you should do whatever you want and them go to Him when you need advice.”  Heehee. Lol.  Ummmm….no. Just no.

Why would I want to take the wheel on ANYthing when His way has NEVER failed me? Riddle me that…As I further explained, He has never broken my trust; He has never lead me somewhere and left me; He has never made me feel anything except accepted and loved. THAT feels good.  THAT makes me want to be a better person.

Add in recovery. 12 steps. Lead by people who know the path is through God – HP – call yours what works. My Higher Power is Jesus Christ and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  The other cool thing I have learned in recovery is to “live and let live.” I used to be that way, I thought, but getting better has taught me so many things about accepting people and their choices. Period. If God loves me like I am, then who am I to be anything less? 

I have been doing a little experiment for the last week. When I encounter people, I try to make eye contact and genuinely express my gratitude. Results? Crazy cool. A cashier puts change in my hand and I smile and thank her – her eyes light up. I met quite a few homeless people in Santa Fe. I gave them money and food when I was able to. I shook their hands; I asked their names; I pet their dogs; I asked them questions. Normally, I don’t talk about these things because I staunchly believe that defeats the purpose of doing things quietly for God. But it was so amazing. To just stop for a few minutes and be kind to people who have nothing…it was amazing. And the fact that most of them have dogs with them…that just gets me. There they are with nothing, yet they still share what they have with their sweet dogs.  Anyway, my point is, injecting kindness into the world is really gratifying and I am certain it pleases God. 

I am home now. It was a crazy trip. It started with us landing in ABQ & someone in my group…clears throat…was removed before all other passengers for causing a scene. Yep.  The rest of us were all so embarrassed. The scary part? He still thinks he was completely right regardless of who was made uneasy or afraid. 😏 And to see this person come quietly unglued at various times during the trip – often regardless of who was nearby and in earshot – was very unsettling. To see my 16-year old cry – again – and look at me searching for ‘why’ – again…makes me feel sick to my stomach.  He would raise his arms in thanksgiving to God and then in the same sitting, lean over and get in one of my daughter’s faces and tell her to “shut your mouth right now” with as much venom as he could muster. Bottom line…I can’t do this…staying for their sakes is not doing them any favors.  This has taken the express train to sickness like never before and I want off.

I am worn out emotionally.  I don’t want gifts. I want peace. I am tired of upset stomachs, tears, sweaty palms, anxiety, shakiness from fear, walking on egg shells…I’m just done.

Plus, keeping the secret of emotional abuse is just too much for me anymore. It’s real; it’s here; it’s NOT me; it’s him; what I allow is what will continue; I am done.  I am ready to trust God in that area, too. I see now that moments of seemingly normalcy do not erase what has compounded for years; the behavior is still there.

Sigh. Peace.

Skipping around out of necessity :)


Step 4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

Everyone seemed spooked by the prospect of Step 4, yet everyone also touted this step as being one of the big ones. My sponsor was pretty no-nonsense about it. I did what she said. “Write down everybody who has ever pissed you off,” she said. Wow. Okay. Oh, hell yeah, gimme ma notebook.

It took me a long time to complete Step 4. I had a looming history that should have raised many a red flag, but didn’t, to recollect.

So, nervously, recyclable or compostable (I never know) carrying tray of Starbucks in one hand (coffee is a given for me & my sponsor), my red notebook in the other, we met.

Step 5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

Weeeellll…that sounded daunting. What if she judged me??? What if she kicked me out & said I was going to Hell?

Fast forward because I have ADD.

None of the bad stuff happened. What did happen was this:

I was freed.

From my own past and the chains that all those rotten secrets held around me were GONE. Fricking gone. Not only did my sponsor listen without judgment and with complete attention and acceptance, she shared her own stuff with me.

I can honestly say I have never been the same since that day. Saying out loud what happened to me, the choices I made, the things I did, was really an experience I have never had. And it was an experience that keeps on giving.

What made me skip ahead to this is this:

Today I bumped into an old childhood friend. We have been friends since forever, I think! Anyway, as we laughed about how we were growing up versus the kind of parents we are now, she politely asked, “Can I ask you about something,” to which I retorted, “Oh, you mean when I stole a car in 8th grade & wrecked it?” “Yes!” I spilled it all out right there. That had been one of my secrets that kept me in bondage – I was babysitting, started drinking tequila, took the car after my other friend came over; we went to our friend’s house & back to the house where I was babysitting. Should have been enough, right? But no, not for this blossoming alcoholic…let’s get back in the car and go back over to that same friend’s house! Upon going home on that trip, I hit a tree. Cops. Parents. Scolding looks. Wait. It gets better. When I got home, my mom came to the door d.r.u.n.k. So, I guess no red flag was going up in her camp…She took my makeup away the next day and gave it back the day after that. I had to pay for the damage myself $1500. Ouch. It took me years to pay it off, but I did. I lost a lot of friends over that – understandably so – what parent would allow that friendship to continue?

The reason I am writing this today is because I know that dreadful story has no hold on me anymore. It lost it’s power the day I took my fifth step. I saw clearly how misguided and “unparented” I was. Yes, I had responsibility in that situation, but as a 13-year-old child, God only knows what was really going on with me. I’m sure in some way it was a twisted cry for help.

And guess what? As I re-told the story to my dear friend, I left out no sordid detail. That’s just part of my story and it certainly doesn’t define me anymore.

Alright, peace out.