Category Archives: Stress/Anxiety

My Bitter Moment of the Day

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Today I am home with the kiddo, her tummy is upset and she didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. I picked her up from school yesterday, before she even got her jacket on she started complaining of her tummy hurting.  I didn’t think too much of it, “my tummy hurts” has become the most recent excuse to avoid trying something new at dinner.

Halfway home, her banter about how her day went cut off and a meek “I have to go to the bathroom” came out of the backseat.  ”Honey, we’re about 2 minutes from home, you’ll have to hold it.”  ”Okay” she said and the rest of the car ride was quiet.

We pulled into my driveway, and she opened her door right away.  As soon as she had two feet on the ground she bent over and threw up.  My mouth just dropped.  ”See mom, that’s why I had to go to the bathroom.”  Pretty talented if you ask me, when I have to puke, I can’t hold it for 4 blocks.

So we got inside, with me hoping she just ate too much at snack time and she made it 2 minutes before she puked again.  She puked on and off all night and didn’t sleep too well when she did manage to sleep.  I got up with my alarm this morning at 4:45, checked on her and let my boss know that I couldn’t come in today.

I’m sitting on the couch, with a half asleep child laying next to me.  PBSkids on the tv and Noodle barely paying attention unless I go to change the channel at which she bolts awake and tells me “Mom! I’m watching that!”

She’s feeling a bit better this morning, the puking has stopped for the most part and she ate some dry cereal.  She’s just out of it and wants to relax.  Which is fine with me, we’ve been relaxing on the couch together and I’ve been getting some of the laundry done.  We’re going to try something light for lunch in a little bit.  Hopefully that goes well.

…

This last week has been rough on me for a multitude of reasons.  I haven’t been feeling well to top everything off, which just makes for a cranky me in general.  So each day, on my way to work I think about how everything has turned out.  I’m happy I suppose, but the grass is always greener.

- Regardless of my feelings now or anything else, I am glad I divorced A’s dad.  He wasn’t good for me, and I’m not so sure about for A either.  I am glad I took that step and I will never regret the action to have a safer, happier life.-

Life is stable over here finally.  Both Ryan and I have good jobs with steady paychecks, he likes his job which makes getting him up in the morning that much easier.  Noodle has a school in which she (and I) love, she has wonderful teachers and is thriving.

It just bugs me.  Up until a few months before my divorce, I was a stay at home mom.  In my family (this does not pertain to you, it’s not meant to offend you) it was important to me to be able to stay home with my kid(s).  I could have never predicted that my marriage would turn out the way it would and I’m lucky I’ve been employed since then, but shit.  I finally have a job with normal hours (I’ve been there for 2 years next month) so that makes life a little easier, but I’d still rather be at home and taking care of my kid.  I never thought I’d end up in the work force full-time, I always assumed that until A was out of the house, I’d be a part-timer so I could focus on her and our home.

So post-divorce I’m a working mother.  It’s just aggravating and I can feel my knuckles go white on that drive into the office.  It’s hard especially when shit at the office has been annoying me.  So I’m driving in to a job that makes me want to lobotomize myself, because of which my daughter goes to school 2 hours early and stays 1 hour late (6:30ish to 4:30ish) (which I realize isn’t as bad as it was before my schedule change but still).  I drive in to a job that I automatically lose 1/3 of my pay to the extra hours at daycare (the ex was ordered to pay half of school/daycare costs and child support, but that hasn’t happened since I was divorced in ’09). I drive into a job that I normally like, where I make decent pay (despite A’s school fees) but because of it, dinner becomes a chore, daycare spends more time with my kid than I do, and weekends are so jammed up with shit from during the week that there isn’t a whole lot of time for fun.

The topic has come up with Ryan that once he gets his raise in a couple months, that I can stay home.  Trust me on this one, there has been numerous times this past week that that seemed like a great idea.  It’s hard to think it’s not.  However, the grass is always greener.  Even if Ryan makes enough for a comfortable living, we’d still lose the money that my job brings in to supplement and save.   I wouldn’t have money for the extra things for the kids and wouldn’t be able to put money in our “going-on-vacation-finally” fund or “get-the-hell-out-of-my-house-kids!” fund.  Two things that I definitely like putting money in.  Plus with this economy, I don’t think I could walk away from a job I (mostly) like that is pretty damned stable, and rely solely on one income again.  You never know what could happen, and I know I’d regret leaving my job if Ryan ever lost his.

 

The grass is always greener, I’ll just keep repeating that.  In the meantime I’m off to get the kid in the bath and find something for lunch.

Living with Crohns Disease – Intestines for Sale

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I think one of the biggest things I hate about living with Crohns is the future.  When you have a chronic illness, sometimes it can flare up, for no fucking reason and kick your ass (figuratively and literally).  I hate not-knowing.  Especially lately.  When I was in a full-flare, not-knowing wasn’t bad.  The only thing I couldn’t predict was feeling better.  So when I had a random day, out of the norm, it was fabulous.  Now though, I’m practically in remission.  The normal symptoms of my disease are practically non-existent, except for the fistula.

Yes, I still have it.  It connects a loop of my intestine to my bladder and it makes for  a bad day.  I was planning on surgery but a multitude of things made the decision for me to put it off.  (And unfortunately followers, this decision is not up for debate.)  So basically as the decision goes, I am trying to stay as healthy as possible for as long as possible until I have to have surgery.  It’s a horrible plan, but at that point in time it was either choose to have the surgery and fuck everything else up, or put it off so life is more stable for a major surgery.

Anyway, on with my rambling.  So for the past few days, after months of being symptom free, I haven’t been feeling too well.  Fistula symptoms, upset stomach, diarrhea and nausea.  I’ve been taking it easy, sticking to teas and easy to digest foods instead of my coffee and grease.  Doesn’t seem to be too much change, but I’m still wary.  Having had two obstructions in the past, anytime symptoms mimic the early signs of obstruction I get worried.  So I’m taking it easy and hoping for the best yet still preparing for the dash to the hospital just in case.

Sometimes Crohns Disease seems to suck the life right out of me and not in the way you’d think.  On my bad days, I still strive to do everything I normally would do as well as things I want to do.  It’s the mental aspect that is different.  It turns my normally hectic mind into something more anxious and scary, almost more chaotic and full of worry.  I don’t want to end up sick, I hate being in the hospital, but at the same time, I long for all of this to be over with.

Normalcy.  It’s something I strive to have, but Crohns Disease messes it up.

What Family Means and Blood Brings Troubles

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I’m aware that I’ve touched on this subject before, if not numerous times, but I need to get these words out of my head and into the world. 

Family to me isn’t as traditional as most.  Of course I have my immediate family; my Dad, Sister, Step Sister and Brother and step Mom, not to mention my daughter.  However, short of a couple cousins (whom I adore), a handful of friends replaces my extended family.  That’s just the way it is, there is no regret, dislike or anything else, it just worked out like that.  As kids my sister and I were never real close with my Dad’s side of the family, and once my Mom passed away her side of the family kind of drifted off (as did us kids).

During all of this, I met several great people who looked after me.  A couple of my friend’s moms are 2nd, 3rd and 4th moms to me, as well as random friends who have known me for years.  These people slowly became what I considered family.  There was no blood involved, just friendships that developed over time, and because of that, we spent time together when we wanted to see each other instead of at obligatory family functions.

That is what family is to me.

…

Some of you know  I have a “half-sister”.  My mother had a baby when she was in her late teen years, and instead of becoming a teen-aged mother she gave her daughter up for adoption.  My “half-sister” is 16 years older than me and apparently lives down south (I thought North, but whatever.)  I’ve only met her once in person, and I was too young to remember.

When she was in her twenties (late teens?) , she found us (through an aunt of mine I believe) and began to contact my parents.  I honestly don’t know my mother’s true opinion of it, but my first memory of her isn’t pleasant.  Lets just go ahead and say that the year before and after my mother passed, my half sister didn’t exactly make it easy on us.  (Think Dad unplugging the phone at 2am when we’re getting drunk-dialed-screamed at from another state, while cancer-ridden-mother tries to sleep.) After she blew off my mom’s funeral she disappeared again for about 7 years.

She surfaced again when I was 18 ( thanks to the same aunt – also the same aunt who blabbed to my Dad that I was pregnant with Noodle – Seeing a pattern here?) and called me.  This time it was to talk about how the fact that she was adopted, that my mother chose to let two wonderful people raise her was the reason she had a drug problem.  She then berated me for choosing to give my own son up for adoption, and then asked to live with me.

After that conversation, fast forward another 4 years or so and she resurfaces.  This time she’s pregnant and needs advice on adoption.  Oy.

Now apparently she’s straightened her life out.  Facebook allowed her to find me and my younger sister, and after almost a year, things finally went south.

[ My sister and I, especially I, have never pursued a relationship with her.   Yes, she is blood related, but we also have never met her (where we can remember) and only know her by the warpath she left behind.  Being friends with her on Facebook made me uncomfortable, it's hard to talk to someone who expects a full relationship out of you when you've never met, much less have nothing but blood in common.  I didn't mind a few jabs here and there and a "like" on a photo, but beyond that I shied away from it.]

Today she messaged me… again.  This time she asked if she should continue to attempt a relationship with my sister and I.  I was honest.  I told her that I didn’t see a point, that we could most definitely keep in touch via social networking but beyond that I couldn’t see a relationship developing and that I wasn’t really interested in working on one.  I told her my views on family and encouraged her to appreciate her loving parents and her own daughter and friends.

The response I got back set me off.  She resorted back to what she always did.  Her Bio family means so much to her, and when Mom died, it hurt her real bad.  - Excuse me while I try not to get mad again -

Yeah.  You know what?  ’97 may have been a long time ago, but it’s still pretty damn fresh to me.  I have absolutely no sympathy.  There is a huge difference between losing a bio-mom whom you met once (and then ditched the funeral for – as well as both grandparents funerals) while you’re in your twenties… and losing the Mom who you saw every-single-fucking-day when you’re in 5th and 3rd grade.  Big-fucking-difference.  It would be different if she hadn’t spent years in a drug-induced stupor, harassing me and more importantly harassing my mom when she was dying.  It would be different if she didn’t wait until she was in her 40s to try and nurture a relationship.  But it’s not.  That’s the way it is, and that’s the way it’s going to be.

I promptly told her what I wrote above ^^, as well as the fact that she shouldn’t go around digging up 16 year old graves to make herself happy.  I wished her well and again encouraged her to appreciate her own family and friends and that I didn’t want to dig up aforementioned grave again.  Then I promptly un-friended her and blocked her.

Maybe I should have had a little compassion, maybe I should have handled it better.  Truthfully?  I don’t care.  I lost all compassion for the situation years ago when I was berated for the same choice she later made.  I lost that compassion when she blamed putting drugs up her nose on my mother (which FYI : No one forced you to do drugs!).  I don’t care.

I’m glad it’s finally done, I hope that’s the last tie I have to cut.  It took me 26 years to divorce myself from her, and I wish it happened earlier.  She needs to move on, she needs to love her own family and nurture the relationships she’s taking for granted.  She needs to realize that we don’t know her, and we don’t want to get to know her.  We’ve been trying to heal the best we can, fix our own issues and problems, and speaking for myself, I cannot take on hers too, again.  I’ve been spending the last couple of years eliminating negativity from my life, and that was one of the relationships I put off getting rid of.

I forgive her for the person she used to be.  But forgiveness isn’t for her, it’s for me, it’s letting myself move on, and get on with my life.  I don’t want to be reminded of what she put my family through and what horrible emotion she invoked.  I forgive her for what she did and has done, but that doesn’t mean I want to be best friends.  I want to be done.

 

 

Family is not blood.  Family is love and caring.  Family is made of the people that stand by you day in and day out.  Family is made of people who love each other, not for their own gain, but just because.

Long Days :: Busy Mind

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Please excuse the rambling, it’s been a long day.

There’s some days where I get a little bit down about having Crohns Disease.  It drags on my head, sticks in the back of my mind.  I don’t even have to be feeling all that sick.  Sometimes all it takes is a little reminder, like visiting my GI doctor for a check up, or scheduling a Remicade appointment.  Of course there are the days where I feel sub-par, and the days where I flat out feel like road kill… and ironically, those days I don’t get down at all.  I spend those days focused on making it through, it’s not until I feel better that I get down about spending that time sick.

It’s difficult sometimes to think that this is a disease that I’ll have for the rest of my life, it’s even more difficult knowing that I could be in remission for years, and it could spring back up.  Just that alone makes me a tad depressed.  However, those days that I feel 100%, which thankfully are more and more now, I feel like I can continue to take on the world.  It takes the good days to remember that I will and have gotten through it.  Crohn’s Disease will not get me down.

What really kicks me in the ass is when I have a down right horrible Crohn’s day, or if I’m just particularly down, is coming home.  I’ll be driving home from work/school/the moon and be in near tears.  Yet, when I get home, open the door and shoo away the dogs, I feel better.  Now, once I get home I realize how lucky I am.  I am proud of what I’ve done for myself and for Noodle, and now that my house is more like my home it’s an example of it.  My home is an example of what I’ve been through and what I’ve overcome.  So I may not be over the moon happy, but knowing how far I’ve come despite having a chronic illness, it shakes more reality into my busy head.

So I may have Crohn’s Disease, but that’s part of who I am, and part of what’s made me strong.

Calm the FUCK down, even though it’s hard.

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I’m practically ready to turn off the news permanently lately.  There have been so many shootings, both at schools and on city streets, that it makes me edgy.  Horrible things keep happening and in the middle of it all there is the gun-debate.  Even more importantly (at least to me) N. Korea is boasting about attacks against us.  The world is currently a shitty place, but unfortunately for us, I believe it’s only slightly more shitty than it used to be.  We just happen to have the internet and such so we are aware of almost everything.

Am I scared?  For myself?  Kind of.  For my child?  As a parent?  Oh HELL yes.  The year before last, the local PD closed down the road right outside of my daughters school looking for an armed fugitive.  I’ve had those panic stricken thoughts and anxiety.  Each and every single time a new news story hits the networks, I cringe and hope, no PRAY that it’s not anywhere close to my munchkin.  So far each and every time I hear of something horrible that happens, I sigh in relief that my child is safe, then I feel horrible to those parents out there who just lost a child.

However, this is our world.  Our country.  Despite all the horrible shit that is going on, we still aren’t as bad as some countries are right now.  Because shootings are rampant (or at least seem rampant) doesn’t mean we should try and shelter our children from everything.  I understand that it’s scary, I do, but keeping our children out of school or away from after school activities, sleep overs ect does nothing but keep them from what makes life worth it.  I’m right there with you, I don’t let ANYONE I don’t know around my daughter, and I keep up on what happens at her school and the schools she will be going to.  She isn’t allowed on sleep-overs unless I personally know and trust the other set of parents, and I willingly meet other parents so they feel comfortable letting me watch over their little ones.

In order to survive letting our kids out into the world, we have to trust in other people and we have to have faith and hope nothing happens.  To keep our kids from living or even thriving is wrong, instead we should be letting them enjoy their world yet teaching them how to be safe.  Stranger danger, inappropriate touching, and what to do if (god-forbid) something happens at their school.  We have to be prepared but I honestly do believe that sheltering our kids to an extreme point is more harmful than anything.

More importantly, what’s going on isn’t really about us.  It’s about our children’s safety.  We all know it’s hard, and we all know each other is scared.  It’s not about us.  What has me irritated today, is that a fellow mom I know has been weeping on facebook about how she doesn’t want to let her kids out of the house, she doesn’t let them play outside or on play dates, she’s thinking of switching to home school (more power to home-schoolers, I have no problem with it, but if the motivation is only to save yourself anxiety then you might want to re-evaluate).  It scares me, and it irritates me.  It’s become less about her children’s safety and quality of life and more about how hard it is on HER.  The support we all have given her in choices in schools, helpful babysitters and recommendations for her kid’s sports in environments the rest of us trust have gotten us no where but ridicule.  We’re the horrible ones for wanting our children to continue on in their schedules and lives.  We’re the horrible moms and dads who trust *gasp* strangers (public schools/private schools) with our children’s safety.  It’s become all about her.  The tragedies of late have turned into an online whinefest about how uncomfortable *she* is.

I get it.  Like I said, I do.  However, after a couple of weeks it seems more selfish than for her children.  So this is my plea to the public, to the other moms and dads out there.  We live in a world where there ARE bad people.  Instead of running from the horrible things we can’t seem to prevent (even though we try), we should try to make life more safer.  We should educate our children, we should make wise choices.  We should do our best to make the world better instead of more lonely.  Just my thoughts, I apologize if I upset anyone, but the state of everything our instincts to hide our children from the world make it hard.  I think we can do better.

Clutter and Anxiety

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Hi, my name is Sarah.  I am one of the most high-strung, anxiety-filled, nut-ball people you know.  Ha.  That’s putting it in a nice way, or so says the boyfriend.  Most of the time, my anxiety kicks me in the ass and gets me moving to accomplish shit I’ve been putting off.  Sometimes though, it’s completely unneeded.

Today is Saturday.  Ry works Saturday mornings, so this is a chill morning for Noodle and I.  I tend to get a little cleaning done, but the both of us just relax after a long week of work and school and other misc. errands.

So I made my coffee, like I would any other weekend, but as I was filling the coffee filter I felt that all too familiar twinge.  My sink has dishes in it, and the trash is nearly full.  NO!  It’s Saturday, I will not rush around doing stupid chores first thing in the morning!  Absolutely-FUCKING-not!

I grabbed some cereal for the short one and headed into my room to enjoy my coffee.  Jeez, my room is cluttered.  It’s a mess!  What in the hell happened!?  I could just pick up this… NO!  I will NOT!  I can sit down and enjoy my coffee.

Coffee drinking commences.  Well, since I’m at the computer, I can update my finances.  You know, the receipts and such from the past couple days.  So I start writing them out, and tossing them in a pile.  I get up to throw them away and oh!  I can toss this too!  Lets take my little trash to the kitchen trash and OH! I need to take that out!

No! NO! NOOO!  Good lord have mercy.

So at this point, I’m back in my chair.  For the ump-teenth time.  My anxiety has made my blood pressure rise.  Even though I’ve tried to control it, I already have a list of stuff that I need to get done.  I’m going to sit here and write and enjoy my coffee even if it’s making me twitch.  That’s it.  Simple.

Clutter.  For some reason, clutter and chores give my anxiety a run for it’s money.  I’m not sure why, but it’s always been like that.  If my room is clean and organized, I can relax.  If I have a basket of clothes to put away it sets me on edge.  If there is shit on the floor I’m already getting weird.

I don’t know, I guess it works in my favor, but SHIT, I wanted to have coffee in peace.  Off to clean.

Oh Look, it’s 2013.

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It’s New Year’s Eve.  Again.  You know, I think I’m starting to get old, I didn’t even realize it was New Year’s Eve until I hopped on the Book of Face this morning.  Crap.  How the fuck is it already almost 2013?  I just now started writing “2012″ the first time on my paperwork at the office.  Damn it all to hell, now it’s time to start over.

This year has just flown by, maybe it’s because I AM getting older, maybe it’s just because I’ve been busier this year than years past.  I don’t know, but it seems like just yesterday the leaves changed color, last week, we had the AC on.  I blinked and Christmas is over.  I remember being a kid, and the entire year seemed to crawl by.  Crap.  Maybe I am getting old.

So every year, at year’s end, we all tend to think about what we’re grateful for.  We think about what we could do better in the next year and make all of those stupid resolutions.  I’m no different, this year has taught me how strong I really am.  I’ve gone through some tough shit this year and grew because of it, I closed one chapter of my life and started on a brand new (scary as shit) one.  My co-worker said it best, since I started last year, I’ve done a 180 and you know what?  I like it.

When I started making changes in my life, I thought it’d be grueling, that I’d hate it.  I dreaded ever single step I took, but I found out that each step I took made me stronger.  I like how things are ending up, life needs a lot of work yet, but I’m headed in the right direction.  This next year?  I hope it’s more of the same steps.

So resolutions.  I should make some.  I usually never do but hey, what the hell.

1.  Learn how to balance being a Mom with being every-fucking-thing else.  In 2012, I focused on fixing my “mom-skills” and being a better mom.  It’s been awesome, and Noodle and I have grown ever so close.  When you’re a “Single-Mom” or when the father’s out of the picture (even if he is is calling again – long story), every decision you make revolves around your kids.  Hell.  Normal moms often are guilty of “Well, I really want a latte, but I’m sure that $2.94 can be used for something else, (insert random kid’s name here) really wants (insert random kid item here).” In 2013, I need to learn how to keep working on my relationship with my daughter, helping her thrive, but I also need to learn to take care of myself.  Balance, I do not have it.  Haha, so I’m going to focus on balance.

2.  Trust.  In this next year, I want to learn how to trust people again.  2012 had me working on forgiveness.  I spent all year trying to let go of grudges, and accept some of the blame for my problems.  I forgave people that royally fucked me over, and people that walked out of my life.  I stood up and took the blame where it was due.  I forgave others and I forgave myself.  Now I need to work on my trust so I can work on relationships with people who are close to me.  I’ve already started that and grown closer with my parents, but now, I need to learn how to open my heart to my friends.  So trust it is.

3.  Enjoy the Small Things.  So on this Let’s-Change-My-Whole-Life trip I went on this year, I became pre-occupied with my To-Do list.  Which is no different than any other year.  I’d accomplish one thing (whether mental, relationship-wise, work, or house) and immediately focus on how much more I had to do to accomplish the next obstacle.  I spent a lot of this year worrying.  I want to spend more of next year enjoying the small things I took for granted last year.  Iced coffee by my garden, quiet moments to journal, nights out to dance.  You name it.  I’m starting early.  This morning I got up and started getting overwhelmed by my to-do list.  After Ryan went to work, instead of instantly getting moving, I sat down at my desk and enjoyed my coffee.  Now writing.  The laundry waiting to be folded can wait a little bit.  Mornings with just me and Noodle are only once a week, and she’s occupied with that horrendous furby thing so I have time alone.  (Btw, I didn’t think furbys could get any more creepy… I was wrong, 10 years later and they now practically give me nightmares.) So.  Yeah.  I will enjoy the small things.

 

So it’s about to be a new year, 2013.  I’m excited.  I just know though, that I’ll blink and it’ll be New Years Eve again.  So here’s to my best effort.  I hope everyone has a safe new years.  I’m staying in tonight, so those out there, if you drink please don’t drive, be safe, and I’ll see everyone next year.  Happy Holidays.

Because I can

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Sometimes my brain gets all screwy.  My thoughts jump all over the place and my anxiety tries to strangle me.  Sometimes I get down and can’t really pinpoint the exact reason.  Maybe it’s the weather, the lack of sunlight now that it’s November?  Maybe a lack of sleep or getting up too early after going to bed too late?  I don’t know what it is, but my brain is definitely mixed up today.

I’m still having a hard time with writing, and I think that’s the root of this funk I’m in.  Usually writing is my cure all.  Feeling anxious today?  Write.  Feeling down in the dumps?  Write.  Overwhelmed?  Let’s write!  Furious?  Scribble a bunch and then write.  Happy?  Must write.  Lately though?  I get that urge to write,  I’ll sit down with my journal and as sooooooon as that pen hits the paper, the coherent thought is gone.  The train just derails and not only does it crash, it takes out the entire city of Logic while it’s at it.

So that’s the start of it.  My brain is screwy because I haven’t been able to write.

Writers block.  Isn’t that what they call it?  I call it bullshit.  I’ve never had an issue with writing for this long.  I’ll even admit the last few blogs (however long ago I posted them) are pretty much just crap.  Just crap to have something to post on this pathetic site.  At least there would be something up right?  Yuck.  I quit that.  Ya’ll can just deal with nothing.  It’s better than posting stuff that I had to force my fingers to write.

–

So seeing as how I just spent 10 minutes trying to find some way to transfer what’s in my head to my fingers… I quit.  Maybe they’ll be better luck tomorrow.  Or with a physical journal.

Frustration and Coffee

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For some reason I’m really agitated today.  I’m not even sure why, there’s nothing I can pinpoint.  I’m just generally anxious and riled up, even though my “vacation” begins tonight.  I feel like I should be doing something, but I have no idea what.  There’s nothing that immediately needs my attention.  I don’t know.

It might just be the fall season.  Usually around Autumn I feel melancholy and I start getting the itch to make big changes.  Except for this year, I haven’t decided on any big changes.  I was thinking of school, but because of current student debt, it’ll have to wait.  Other than that?  I don’t know.  There’s no real changes I want to make to the house until the spring, there’s nothing major with my family.  I don’t know.

Ah well.

So it’s my vacation, or rather “stay-cation”.  I took some time off of work to save what’s left of my mental health.  I’m off of work until Tuesday morning.  I ended up squeezing in some medical crap, but for the most part, the next 5 days are going to be about taking care of me.  Tomorrow morning, I have my remicade infusion, but will be out of there around noon.  Friday, I have my surgical consult, but that shouldn’t take long at all.  Other than that, there’s no plans.

I’m excited, Noodle has school Thursday and Friday and then a 3 day weekend.  So Thursday and Friday are days to myself.  Saturday and Monday, Ryan is working, so it’s Noodle-Mama time.  Sunday?  Family Day.  Maybe I’ll take a tour through the thrift stores, I need winter clothes.  Maybe the forest preserve for writing and music? Maybe coffee with my girlfriends?  Maybe a walk downtown?  Who knows.  Either way, it’ll be nice.

Obviously, from my level of un-called for anxiety, I need this break.

The END of a Sentence

by

So as most of you know, last year I had gotten myself a DUI.  45 days later, August 25th, my license was suspended.  Since then I’ve been driving with a Baiid Device in my car.  It was originally for 6 months, but I violated it and it was extended to 9 months.  Lesson learned… the next morning you are still drunk.  Anyway, so the time is about to come to an end.  This Friday I get my license back, and shortly after I get the Baiid Device removed from my car.

When I first had the device put in my car I was honestly really annoyed.  The problem I saw with it is not only can you not drive drunk (obviously), but you can’t drink at all… and if you do, you have to be very careful that your BAC is under .005 before you try to drive.  Now those of you who know my family, we’re a wine at dinner kind of people.  Or a beer at the lake.  All of those were off limits to me.  I was annoyed, but grateful to have my driving privileges back.  I thought I’d just count down the days, hate every day of it, and then be done.

You know what?  It wasn’t that bad, and all in all I have to give the device a good review.  I learned a lot from it, a lot more than I thought I would anyway.  For instance, you are still not okay to drive the morning after drinking (and subsequently I found out if a girl gets hammered at night, she usually has alcohol in her system until around 5pm the next day).  I learned that 1 beer and 1 hour is pretty much right, and more than that and you are not legally not safe.  I realized how many times I had put myself (and others at risk) not only of bodily harm but of getting a DUI.  There were many a nights where if I was too shitfaced to drive, I hopped in the car with someone who was driving… and thinking back on it… had a few drinks before hand.  I learned it was actually easier to take a cab to and from a night out, instead of dealing with the hoopla of “Are you SURE you’re sober?”.  I learned that a lot more people drive drunk than I even realized.

The two most important things I learned?  Oh yeah, epiphany coming here.  I learned I drank too much, too frequently and it changed my behavior to something I didn’t like.  That first month I wasn’t allowed to drive I really wanted to go out… as the month passed I realized that (while okay for others) my want to go out once a week was too much for me.  I started to think about why I wanted to go out, what good I would get out of it and why I wanted to drink.   What it came down to was I wanted to go out because I saw it as a break from my daughter, since my divorce I had been a single parent and the world rested on my shoulders.  Going out with my friends and having a few drinks was how I was coping with the stress of all of that, not to mention being sick.  I had a lot of fun, I did, but what I had to figure out was why I didn’t want to be at home.

This whole time Ryan and I haven’t gone out much, just a few times here and there.  Mostly because it became a hassle and we didn’t feel like dealing with it.  So we spent a lot of weekends at home this past weekend and I learned something doing so.  As the time progressed, we spent more and more time at home, we watched movies, had friends over, did special things things for our kids and had dinners to ourselves.  We worked on my house and made quite a few memories doing it.  As the time passed I learned why I didn’t want to spend time at home.  My home didn’t feel like a home.  Up until last summer, things were always dramatic at my house.  Of course the divorce and following restraining order, but also a traumatic relationship and my Crohns flaring not once but three times.  Home was where I was alone to think, and home was where I had to face my demons.  I was too busy facing said demons and trying to escape them to even consider my house a home. Once Ryan and I started dating I wasn’t alone with my thoughts anymore, I didn’t spend what time I had at home over-thinking things as well as the future, I had someone to talk about everything with.  I had someone to share my thoughts with, and I had someone who had similar thoughts.  So as time passed, things came out in the open, and I was able to lighten up a bit.  I didn’t need to go out and get loaded to feel carefree, all I needed was someone to talk to and a cup of coffee.  Once things came out it was easier to relax, it was easier to enjoy my house and my life and make those memories.  With all of that time, all of those memories, I made my house a home.

Things have progressed quite well these past handful of months, and now this suspension is coming to an end.  I’ve learned a lot and I’m sure I have a lot more to learn.  Am I done drinking?  No.  I’m sure we’ll still out once in a while and get drunk and dance like monkeys.  I’m sure I’ll have that glass of wine with dinner at my Dad’s house.  Now though?  Now I don’t NEED to get loaded to have fun.  I don’t WANT to go out constantly (ha, if at all, Sarah finally turned into a homebody).  I learned what a risk it is, not only to myself, but to my friends, family and relationships.

Sure, I wish I never got that damned DUI, but honestly, if I didn’t, things would be much different now.  I’m not quite sure I ever want to know how that would turn out.  So in a way, I’m glad it happened.  That stupid DUI changed my life, and it changed my life for the better.  I can only hope life continues to be great, that I continue to be happy, and that things keep working out.  I’m happy, and it’s almost painful to admit, but the DUI and facing the resulting (or always there but hidden) demons gave me this chance to turn things around and be happy with my life.  Everyone needs a second chance, and I’m glad I got mine.

 

 

Not only that, but I might miss that device a little bit.  I named him Sammy… and what will I ever do with out that thing beeping for attention and distracting me from my music.  :)