"It isn't Christmas unless I make somebody mad." -Karl Jacoby

I have a lot rolling around in my head this morning, so bear with me. I think it's because I'm going on only 4 hours sleep and I have a long day ahead of me. Silver lining? I get to sleep in tomorrow (yeah, right). OK, I at least get to nap tomorrow.

Since Christmas fell on a Sunday this year, we're having one worship service this morning. We typically have three and I am eternally grateful we're only having one.  So since there is only one service, what would make an elderly gentleman get out of bed, drive to church, find a seat, then leave during the opening music, before the sermon? Apparently he didn't like my announcements.  No, that isn't it. He didn't like the damn music. FOR PITY'S SAKE! It's Christmas music! How bad could it be? In my humble opinion, it was quite awesome, as Christmas music goes. Apparently this particular gentleman didn't think so. Silver lining? He isn't mad at me and I haven't been yelled at today.....yet.

I've been thinking a lot about Christmas and it's meaning...to me. I no longer believe in God or Jesus as the Messiah so celebrating "Jesus' Birthday" doesn't pertain to me.  Though, I grew up celebrating Christmas in the church for the past 36 years so I know what Christians think it's all about.  Personally, after doing a bit of research, I've come to realize what most Christians don't and don't want to realize. Christmas is a pagan holiday. It was only in the 4th century that Christian officials, to combat all the pagan holidays occurring on & around December 25, declared that particular date "Jesus' Birthday", then pilfered pagan rituals, celebrations, etc. so that it would be easier to convert non-christians to christianity.  As far as "Jesus' Birthday" goes, he wasn't born on December 25. What I find surprising is that it's so difficult to determine exactly when he was born. Probably springtime since shepherds were out with their flocks, but since Easter (Christ's resurrection) is celebrated in the springtime, celebrating his birth at the same time wouldn't fly.

So what, exactly, am I celebrating? Santa Claus, because it's just as likely I believe in him as I do "God/Jesus". Come on! Look at the similarties between Santa and what we've made "God". They both know who's been naughty or nice. They're both, apparently, jolly, though I tend to think "God" seems quite vengeful. They're both white dudes with beards. You never see either of them, unless you count the Santa-impersonators at the mall.  What slays me is-- parents tell their children there's a Santa. These sames parents raise their kids in the church, learning about "God" and "Jesus".  Then, one day, the kids are told there's NO SANTA! Yet, they're supposed to continue to believe in "God"?  Really? I can't believe it took me this long to see the light.  Actually, I think I've known all along that there isn't a god, I just couldn't admit it to myself. I'm finally o.k. with being an atheist. So what do atheists celebrate? Booze.  :) No, but, seriously.....I'm celebrating the pagan rituals. Decorated Trees. Holiday lights. Gift giving. Good food. I used to also partake in the 'spirits' (booze, that is) but not this year.

I've realized what an incredibly lucky alcoholic I am, as far as "lucky" alcoholics go. This time of year can be fiercely difficult for the typical alcholic and I can see why. Stress of the holidays. Finances. Family. Spending time with people who probably drove you to drink in the first place. Being around alcohol at all of those parties. But not for me. I work at Christmas-time and I think that's my saving grace this year. I'm not around alcohol at all. There aren't any parties I'm invited to! My family doesn't drink at family get-togethers. Yes, the whole 'buying-special-gifts-for-people-you-hardly-know' is stressful and so is the financial aspect, but I deal. That doesn't seem to be a major issue for me. I'm just lucky.

Now, let's go see if I can piss somebody off today. Merry Whatever-Holiday-You're-Celebrating!

It's not a proper Christmas Eve service unless someone's hair catches on fire. -Me

It's Christmas Eve at Salem UMC. We're packed. Our sanctuary seats 225. We set out about 20-30 additional chairs in the sanctuary-proper. We set out an additional 60-70 in Fellowship Hall. I always feel sorry for the folks who sit in Fellowship Hall. They can see the service through the window separating the sanctuary & the Hall and hear everything that's going on inside the sanctuary, but it's a whole different atmosphere. 

This evening, we set out over 100 additional chairs and had to pilfer those from classrooms downstairs. This is the highest attended service for us all year but tonight is especially high in attendance. I've never seen so many people here! 

Why? Why are there more people here, this year, than any other year? Has the city's population boomed? Has the community heard what a wonderful pastor we have? Or do they just want to listen to his accent? Are they here for the music? For the children's choir, perhaps? Or are they here to save their own souls?

Who cares about that? I only keep fretting about whether or not someone will set the person's hair on fire sitting in front of them during the candlelighting ceremony and then we're going to have a stampede and I'm pretty sure we've broken some Fire Marshal rule and it'll be called the Disaster-Fire-from-Hell of 2011!

I love giving gifts and I love receiving them. I really like giving little kids extravagant gifts. You see their little faces light up and they get excited. If it's a really good gift, I love receiving it, like jewels, small islands.-Gina Gershon

Do you remember those Christmases when you were a kid and really, really, really wanted something for Christmas but truly thought there was no chance in hell Santa was going to deliver? And then come Christmas morning, lo & behold, the gift you so anticipated was waiting for you under the tree?  Did you shout with glee? Did your smile light up the room (along with the 1,000 watt bulbs for the Super 8 movie camera)? Did you not put down the toy/doll/game the entire day? Remember those moments?

Today was my moment.

I hadn't wanted anything for Christmas. When mom and dad told me to go buy my own gift from them (yes, that's weird and yes, my parent's are the only ones I know of in the entire world who do this), I couldn't think of a single thing I needed, let alone wanted.

But then I was given this.......

.....and all my Christmas wishes were answered!

Thank you co-worker/office-mate/FRIEND Carolyn for such a beautiful & hilariously funny lap-quilt!  I couldn't have wished for anything better!

The more crap you put up with, the more crap you’re going to get.

I have a new roommate. I've lost one (Chica) and now I've gained Bob the Bat. I'd rather have Chica. Bob the Bat started moving in a month ago. He sits in my wall on the west side of my balcony and chitters non-stop. Then he leaves for a week and returns to sit in my wall and chitter some more.  Tonight he's apparently decided the west end is too cool for him so he's moved to a warmer spot and is sitting on the east side of my balcony, in the wall, above my t.v., chittering. non-stop. for hours. I tried to voice-record him with my cell phone but his chittering-pitch is too high to register on the recording. All I could hear was Elvis, meowing, "WTF do you think you're doing? Pay attention to me!"

As I was listening to Bob's chittering, I kept repeating to myself, "I'm glad I'm not drinking. I'm glad I'm not drinking. I'm glad I'm not drinking" because let's face it-- if I were drinking, the hammer would be out, the entertainment center would be in the middle of the room, and there would be several holes in my wall. Hell, I might not even have a wall. My neighbors would be pounding on my door, worrying, "She's finally lost it" whatever 'it' is, when in reality, I'd have found 'it'-- IT being Bob. Bob would have flown the coop after the first hammer blow but that wouldn't stop me from destroying an entire wall and then opening my home to all sorts of woodland creatures. 

Doesn't bat poo carry disease? Great- I'm not going to die from alcoholism. Yeah for that, but I'm going to die from bat poo. Which is worse? You tell me....

Bob's chittering was, literally, driving me batty so I called a friend. We talked for a 1/2 hour and then I realized, Bob had quieted down. I think he could hear my voice and it either soothed him to sleep or drove him away.

Call me 'bat whisperer'.

"Forgive me if I snap at you. I’m myself today." -Maxine

I woke up this morning in a fine mood. And then it changed. My mind went to unhealthy thoughts....mostly about work. Nothing 'drinking'-related....yet.  Do other people's minds do this to them? You think everything is fine, it's going to be a good day (maybe not great, but at least good) and then a switch goes off in your mind and suddenly you're thinking shit about shit you shouldn't be thinking about anyway? Why does my mind do this?

AA says that alcohol is "cunning, powerful & baffling". I say it's just plain sneaky. It's the sneakiest SOB I know and that's saying a lot because I know quite a few sneaky SOB's.

I can only make myself busy for so long. There's only so much cleaning I can do; only so much sorting of old boxes; only so much knitting; only so much blogging; only so much napping; etc, etc, etc. What will I do when all that runs out? I think the bigger question is this: Why do I need anything? Why do I need to stay busy and keep my mind occupied in order to simply not drink?

I'm in a foul mood. Thank goodness it's Sunday and I'll be home by 1PM, wrapped up in my new oh-so-soft-sherpa blanket, staring blankly at the t.v. not thinking about a damn thing.

"Hold on with a bulldog grip, and chew and choke as much as possible." -Abraham Lincoln

I'm feeling a general sense of malaise. Last week was rough. I celebrated 120 days sober (yeah!) but suffered the loss of Chica. I also developed a lump behind my ear, which I originally thought was a spider bite. It wasn't. My brother & mom thought it was shingles. It wasn't. (Stop listening to your family, my doctor said.) It's just a swollen lymph gland. Why is it swollen? Who the hell knows but it is and it hurts. So the doctor told me if it didn't go away by Friday to fill my scrip for an antibiotic.  I filled the scrip and have been taking the meds ever since. They suck almost as bad as the lump-behind-my-ear, though that does seem to be less painful than before. Either that or I'm just getting used to the pain. 

Do you find that happens to you? You get used to the pain. It becomes part of you-- part of 'your normal'.  I don't want a lumpy head to become my 'normal' so I'll continue to take the damn meds for the next 5 days and suffer whatever they make me suffer just to stop suffering the damn lump. Can you tell I'm happy about that?

I'm tired. So, so tired. I want to just fake it and tell all of you that I'm o.k.; that things are great; that I feel fine. That was who I was. I'd lie. I'm not lying anymore so the fact of the matter is, I feel like shit. I feel a general sense of malaise-- a general bodily discomfort. I don't do well when I don't feel well.  As my physical well-being declines, so does my mental well-being. They go hand-in-hand.  So, physically I don't feel well. Mentally, I just want to stay in bed.  I'm going to be a lot of fun by the time I hit 60 and my body aches all over, huh?

This morning I woke up with anxiety. If there's anything I hate more than anxiety....well, I can't think of anything I hate more. It makes every moment a struggle. I know if I just push through it and get my day going, I'll be o.k. but pushing through it is damn hard.  How did I deal with anxiety before? Same way....or I'd start drinking at 6AM. Obviously, that didn't work for me so I need to find a new way to deal with it. How do you deal with anxiety that hits as soon as your brain wakes up and sometimes even before your brain wakes up??? My anxiety can start in my dreams and trail into waking up. It's a damn good thing I'm in therapy, right?

My sponsor is concerned for me. She knows how stressful my last week was and how "cunning, powerful & baffling" alcoholism is. I'm on guard. I'm on high-alert. It's Def-Con 1 over here. Quite honestly, alcohol was the last thing on my mind until she mentioned her concern to me. Now I feel like it's stalking me and I'm constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure it isn't hovering over me. I just keep thinking, "I want 6 months dammit! I want ONE YEAR!" So I'm hanging on with a bulldog grip and I'll karate-chop alcohol's ass before I let it get me again. HIIIIIIIIIII-YAH!

"You know the message you're sending out to the world with these sweatpants? You're telling the world, 'I give up. I can't compete in normal society. I'm miserable, so I might as well be comfortable." –Jerry Seinfeld

I have to blog again just so the first post I see when I come here isn't the one about Chica.

I've been thinking a lot today about "comparisons". I compare myself to others all the time.

Is my alcoholism as bad as his? It doesn't matter. An alcoholic is an alcoholic is an alcoholic. There are people in AA and out of AA who want to "one-up" another. Who the hell wants to "one-up" a stupid, crazy, idiotic, drunken life? There are some who want to....who always have to have a bigger, better, crazier story to tell about their drunken days; who always have to be able to drink more than the next guy. I say, "Let 'em one-up each other". If that's what helps keep them sober, so be it.  It honestly doesn't matter if my alcoholism is "as bad" as the next guy's. It was bad for me and it would have gotten worse.

Am I as crazy as she is? We're all our own crazy, aren't we? And that's what makes life fun & interesting, in my opinion.

Is what I'm feeling normal compared to others?  This is the main focus of this post. I'm constantly comparing how I feel to how I think other people would feel in the same situation.  Stupid, isn't it? What I feel is what I feel. What does it matter how other people would feel in the same situation? This is how I feel!  BUT, and this is a BIG 'OL BUT, I think if I don't compare myself to others, emotionally, I'll think I'm crazy(-er).

I've especially been pondering this since the downfall of Chica. I've been very emotional about the whole thing, which is a bit surprising to me. I certainly didn't think I'd be crying for 4 days and I certainly didn't think I'd miss her presence as much as I do.  As much as I try to not cry, I have very little control over it.  I cried at today's meeting, even though I kept telling myself while others were talking, "When it's your turn, DO NOT CRY!" over & over again. Didn't help. I still cried and felt like a stupid asshole for crying over my cat.  I'm attending a funeral tomorrow and I know I'll be a blubbering idiot the whole time, not necessarily crying for the person who has passed, but crying over my damn cat!  How ridiculous, I think! 

I go back to Prairie Ridge and what a resident said to me there: "You have to let it out".  I'd sure like to let it out-- in private, though.

And I wonder.....would a normal person be this emotional over their pet? Would a person with children be this emotional over a pet? I just don't think so and so I think, to be normal, I need to suck it up, stop crying, and just move on. Because "being normal" is very, very important. VERY.

Yet....I know that this is where I'm at and it's o.k. So if you see me over the next couple of days, expect swollen, red, tear-filled eyes. And for pity's sake, do not hug me.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow."

It is done.

Fare-thee-well, Miss Chica.

Oh, how I'll miss you. I'm raising my coffee cup to you today, honoring you with happy memories- chattering with the squirrels, catching bats, fighting with Elvis, but mostly just love; the love you gave me and the love I gave to you.

Rest in Peace, my little girl.

"I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my grandfather, not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car." -Unknown

I'm on death-watch.

My cat-of-nine-years, Chica, is deteriorating before my very eyes. It's a difficult thing to watch. I've made an appointment with the vet for early tomorrow a.m. to "put her down", as we so politely say. It's hard to reconcile myself with ending her life, if her life doesn't end today on its own. Am I doing it for her or for me? Is it a completely selfish act because I don't want to feel the aching sadness I feel watching her deteriorate? Or is it "ending her pain"? She hasn't eaten since Friday. She has now stopped drinking. She can barely stand up and walk. I know she's dying because she actually let me pick her up & hold her & kiss her little head. Never, when she was well, would she allow me to do that. Never. She'd squirm, fight & claw out of my arms. Now, I get nothing. Just a sad resignation.

All I did last night was watch her, pet her, try to comfort her, and cry.  A lot of crying. And crying still. And more crying to come.

As I spoke to my sponsor last night, I realized I've never had to put a pet down before. On the farm, cats wandered away to die, or I'd find them after the fact, or they'd die, tucked in Dad's car engine, on his way to work. Chica will be my first and if I have anything to do with it, my last. I've already explained to Elvis, in cat-talk, that he has to go quickly or sneak out of the apartment and find someplace else to die. I do not want to watch this happen ever again. I even told my father that he & mom must die in a fiery car crash and none of this prolonging-life-shit. I have a say in the matter, don't I? Allow me to think so, for now, because it helps me adjust. I'm not sure, if I thought I would have to do this again, I would get another pet (after Elvis, of course). Watching them die is just too damn hard.

But that's the Circle of Life, isn't it? We're born. We live. We cause as much chaos & happiness as we can. We die. And grieving is part of the Circle, for those of us left behind. I'm glad to know Chica will be buried in a place where she can do some good-- my parent's garden. I will never be able to eat anything from their garden again, but Chica will help their produce grow and she will be carried on.  :)

Happy 120th Day!

From my good friend, Nancy....

It's amazing, to me, the kindness of friends, especially when they're going through their own stress & trauma.

I'll be keeping this little beauty at the office....so it can stay a little beauty. I'm pretty sure Elvis would have a field-day with this if I brought it home! 

It feels good to feel loved. I can only hope to express my own good feelings towards others 1/2 as well as Nancy does....THANK YOU!

"Never celebrate until you are really out of the woods."

I'll never really be out of the woods, but today I am celebrating 120 days sober. 

The more days I have sober, the harder it is to remember what it was like. Thankfully, I have this blog and my journals to remind me. I tend to think, "I wasn't that bad" but in all reality, I might not have been that bad....YET.  It was just a matter of time before it got worse. I'm grateful the support I had, and myself, realized it was time to get help and I got it when I did. 

It has not been easy and I know there are many rough days ahead but right now, life is good. Other than the fact that my head hurts from, what I assume is, a large spider bite behind my ear. That sucker must have really been biting me & shooting venom into my head for a long, long time last night because the area is large and hard and hurts like a bitch. Other than that, life is good. Oh, and the fact that Chica has now seemed to stop eating. I think her days are numbered. Other than that, life is good. Oh, and the fact that a close friends father passed away over the weekend. Other than that, life is good. Oh, and the fact that another close friend has relapsed and is struggling with life. Other than that, life is good.

Really.....Life. Is. So. Good.

Because I'm sober and because I'm sober, I can deal with (most of) life's struggles. I'm no longer drowning them in beer. Thanks be to Prairie Ridge! Thanks be to Mom & Dad! Thanks be to Theresa & Eric! Thanks be to Susie! Thanks be to Noelle! Thanks be to AA! Thanks be to Em, Bev & G'ma! Thanks be to Robin & Lori! Thanks be to my co-workers-friends! Thanks be to EVERYONE who has helped me in my recovery!

I wouldn't be sober today without all of you and for that I say, THANK YOU!

"Change only happens when the pain of holding on is greater than the fear of letting go."

Even after all my struggles with it, alcoholism is still a conundrum to me. Or I should say, recovery is still a conundrum.....a mystery.

Is alcoholism a disease? Clearly it affects the mind and body. Science proves it. I believe the reason a person struggles so much in the early stages of recovery is because the brain is damaged from alcohol abuse. I believe the body, the whole body, literally craves the addiction.  I believe the reason I feel so good now is that my brain is slowly healing.  My body is learning to live without alcohol. It is also healing. Emotionally, I'm learning to live a life without alcohol. Learning to live life without alcohol is probably the hardest part, for me, in recovery. Do you realize how many hours there are in the day? Too-freaking-many!  I don't have a very full life, nor do I want to be running around, willy-nilly, all day long, but dang! I gotta get a hobby. Or nap more often.

If it's a disease, why isn't there a pill for it? There's a pill for every-other-freaking-disease on the planet. Why not alcoholism? There's a pill for depression, anxiety, bi-polarism, schizophrenia, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, heart disease, diabetes, etc, etc, etc. Why not a pill to treat alcoholism? There is. It's called Antabuse. Or Naltrexone. Or Valium. The problem with pills is that the person has to actually take them for them to work. If a person wants to drink, they're going to skip the pills and drink.

Alcoholism is a disease of the mind and the mind is truly an amazing organ; a mysterious organ that we haven't even begun to figure out yet. It knows exactly what the person has to do to remain sober, yet it craves, desires, yearns for that which will destroy it.

Is it willpower? The first step in AA is "to admit we were powerless over alcohol and that our lives had become unmanageable".  That alone would be a theory against willpower. I know that I was unable to quit drinking when left to my own devices. Even though I wanted to quit; knew I had to quit. On the other hand, the addict has to make the choice to become sober. Without that, the addict will, eventually, return to the addiction.  An addict has to honestly want to live a sober life. But does it come down to willpower? No, I don't think so. I don't think it's a weakness. I don't think it's a poor reflection on a person. Willpower cannot fight nor beat alcoholism.  BUT, the individual alcoholic has to make the decision to become sober. The alcoholic has to take the necessary steps to remain sober. Nobody else can do that for them.  The silver lining is this: They don't have to do it alone, nor should they. "It takes a village to raise a child". It takes a village to help an alcoholic in recovery. Alcoholics Anonymous, therapy, group, friends, family, etc. It takes all of them. 

Disease....willpower.....disease.....willpower.....disease......willpower. No matter what it is- disease, allergy, willpower, whatever- it's dangerous.  But there is help.

Without AA, I don't know where I'd be. I don't know that I'd feel this damn good. I don't know that I'd still be sober. In fact, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be sober.  I never thought I'd be the person saying, "Get to a fucking AA meeting!" but apparently I am. For all that AA is, what it comes down to for me is fellowship & accountability. It doesn't have to be political or religious, though you can make it that if you want to.  You can make AA what you need it to be and that's a great thing. I don't go so much for the readings or the lessons or the prayers. I go to be around other alcoholics who truly understand every little thing that I'm going through. I go for support. I go to be held accountable. 

Recovery is as mysterious to me as is the entire universe. I don't know that I'll ever understand it fully, nor that I need to. I need to live in this moment, today, and be thankful I'm sober.