Christmas Eve Reflections, and On To The New Year

  Well it’s another Christmas Eve, and yet again I found myself sliding into the dumps, and feeling sorry for myself and hating what my medication does to me. I’m kinda unhappy, I’m certainly fearful of a lot, and I had great difficulty listening to the Christmas music Michael was playing this morning. I’ve got cooking to do this afternoon and I don’t want to do it. Call me restless, irritable and discontent, this has been going on for months now.

I read over last year’s Christmas entry and I felt the same way. I guess holidays are rough for some people, myself included. I feel lonely, and physically not in the best shape. I’ve been feeling lightheaded and woozy, and as always trapped in this recliner. Nobody likes to read about some depressed, broken down, old bipolar, and certainly not on Christmas. I need to turn this ship around, but how?

I’m absolutely sick and tired of Levy, Matt and Michael telling me to exercise. I’m not going to do that, except my water exercise class two days a week. That’s better than nothing. I know these guys are trying to help but god damn it, I just don’t have the energy and these meds make me so damn sedate. Oh, how I hate these pills! Why won’t new meds come on the market? 

It’s Christmas and I’m complaining. What a mess. Perhaps things will turn around Christmas Day. I just want to feel better. Santa make my wish come true.

********

Ok, my, have things turned around for me since I penned the depressing stuff above! Welcome 2025, today I got myself to the Schiller Park Rec Center where I got the schedule for their winter session fitness classes. I am signing up for a morning fitness class on MWF, as well as an art class on Fridays. Everything is free for seniors! Therapist Matt got me focused on making this step, and I’m excited to start working off this holiday time weight gain.

Got the outdoor Christmas decorations put away, but we are leaving the tree up for a little longer. We have been going to hockey games and the Blue Jackets are actually winning a lot of them! It’s been fun being in the arena with everyone cheering our team on. My beloved Ohio State Buckeyes soundly defeated Oregon in the Rose Bowl yesterday, and now the team advances to the quarterfinals in the College Football championship. We might actually win the national championship this year. Fingers crossed for good luck!

The only thing really bugging me right now is my weight. I’m going to embark on calorie counting and portion size reduction to try and carve off some pounds. I may limit carbs but I have to be extremely careful of that. Carb restriction affects my Depakote dosage and I can get sick. The key is to do this weight loss slowly, not to get impatient and want to rush things. I can do this!

I’m feeling much better, not dizzy and sick like I felt last month. Not sure what brought about this change, maybe it was stopping drinking the water from the fridge dispenser? Whatever it is, I feel better and I’m relieved. I’ll be focusing on my health and wellness in 2025, I hope to get stronger and feel a lift in mood, like Dr. Levy has promised. 

So Happy New Year, keep moving forward Melissa, one foot in front of the other. I’m feeling positive vibes today, so I’m gonna ride that as long as I can. Bring on 2025!

Writing Prompt: Sweet Little Lies

 Prompt: Think about little white lies and the effects and consequences from them that we never consider when telling them in the moment. Write about your experiences and encourage other group participants. 

Sweet Little Lies

There are some lyrics from an old Fleetwood Mac song that go, “Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies.” I’m reminded of that when I think about the little white lies I often tell my husband, even though I’ve sworn to myself that I needed to clean up my act and be truthful in everything I do. I guess I was a liar throughout my drinking and using years, and that’s continued into my sobriety. A glaring character defect that I’m reluctant to turn over to God even though that might do me a world of good.

A recent lie that I was perpetuating involved my sneaky purchases of boxes of nicotine gum behind my husband’s back while he was trying to ration me to 8 pieces of gum a day. I would take those 8 pieces of gum he would give me then supplement it with a stash of extra pieces from the box I had purchased. A box I kept hidden in a bag buried underneath some coats hanging up in a closet. The behavior reminded me of my using days when I’d hide bottles of wine underneath the sink, and drink more than everyone else. No attempt at moderation or rationing would ever work.

I finally got free from the insanity of the hidden nicotine gum boxes four months ago, when my husband and I gave up nicotine gum for good. It took complete abstinence from nicotine for me to stop this particular lie, something I’m painfully aware of. 

I decided today to tell my husband about the hidden gum boxes. He wasn’t angry at me at all, but what concerns me is he basically accepts that I tell these little white lies. He doesn’t think I will change. This doesn’t sit well with me, I don’t want to be seen as a liar, I want to be known for my attempts at honesty and turning over a new leaf by trying to live by a 12-step program. But I guess when you’ve been telling little lies to your spouse for decades, and they are aware of it, building back trust is not going to happen overnight.

Another lie I’m telling is that I’m brushing my teeth every night. My husband wants us to practice good dental hygiene so we don’t have expensive dental bills. So he reminds me every night when I go up to bed to brush my teeth. For some reason, maybe laziness, I don’t want to brush my teeth every night. But I run my toothbrush under the faucet in case my husband checks it. He asks me if I’m brushing and I lie and say yes. 

I feel powerless over this lying. Is it something all addicts do? Maybe people lie whether they are addicts or not. I want to change. God grant me the courage to change the things I can. It may be time to fess up to my husband about the teeth brushing. I think if I just go about dismantling one sweet little lie at a time, I’ll be making good progress. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly…things will always materialize if we work for it.

Writing Prompt: A Daily Reprieve

 Prompt: Contemplate the idea of a daily reprieve and the work required to keep it. Write about where you are with this in your life today. It could be a reprieve from any number of issues that you are experiencing now in sobriety.

Beyond Temporary Relief

For this week’s writing on AA’s Daily Reprieve, I decided to first look up the definition of “reprieve” to see what I could find. A cancellation or postponement of a punishment, it said. And a cancellation of a painful or otherwise lousy situation. In other words, if you’re being tortured, a reprieve is a break from whatever’s tormenting you. To get a reprieve is to get relief for a time. A reprieve is only temporary. 

In sobriety now for over 7 years, I’ve found a long term reprieve from the horrors of active alcoholism. The Big Book says: “What we really have is a daily reprieve contingent upon the maintenance of our spiritual condition.” A daily reprieve in AA refers to the idea that people in recovery can postpone the inevitability of their damaging drinking or drug use by staying focused on one day at a time, and carrying God’s will into all our activities. Importantly, this means His will, not mine, be done.  

To maintain this AA daily reprieve, I do the following: 

1. Practice spirituality through prayer and meditation. I try to pray consistently, though it’s been hard remembering to say a prayer every day. I joined a prayer accountability group with a few people which has helped me to stay focused and on track. As for meditation, I installed the Insight Timer app on my phone, and I’ve been following some guided meditations for managing anxiety and fear. It’s been helpful.

2. Live in the present by focusing on the here and now, not the catastrophic future. Nick from our AA fellowship says the Higher Power resides in the present. I firmly believe that. When I hang out in future thinking I tend to feel nothing but terror and I feel alone. But in the present I have peace and have experienced conscious contact with God. God’s will for me can be found in the present. I just need to let go of trying to control outcomes. 

3. Work the AA program. I do this by attending AA meetings, meeting my sponsor Shawn once a week, and working to complete the 12 AA Steps. I’m currently on Step 7 and I’ve been here for awhile. Shawn is letting me take my time, which I appreciate. I’m looking forward to the Spiritual Awakening that comes from completing the Steps. 

And 4. Serve others. I do this by sharing my experience, strength and hope at AA meetings, making 7th tradition donations, and staying active in my prayer group and my writing group. It’s important that I stay involved with my AA fellowship. I treasure the people I have met in AA, and consider them kindred spirits traveling along with me on this sober journey.

We are not cured from alcoholism or drug addiction. But we do have this daily reprieve, which can bring us a happy, joyous and free life—if we work for it. One day at a time, my life is getting better. I’ve moved beyond temporary relief from something definitely lousy into something consistently pleasant and sometimes even wonderful. Amen to that!

Writing Prompt: Giving Thanks

 Prompt: In recognition of the Thanksgiving holiday, write about some things you are thankful for.

Giving Thanks

Well, I’ve noticed that when I’m asked to reflect on things I’m thankful for, it changes according to how old I am. Now that I’m here at age 58, pushing up against age 60, the first thing that comes to mind for me to shout thanks to the heavens is for my health. I’m in reasonably good shape for my age, the only drawback being I get fatigued by my bipolar medicine and can get sedentary, but I’m pushing back against that. I’m walking and I joined a pool for water exercise classes. I eat a balanced diet and keep my stress low. I’m thankful that I don’t have any major health problems. I hope this continues for a long while.

Next, I’m thankful that I’m not alone, one of my biggest fears that I contend with. I’m thankful for my husband and our lengthy marriage, which has survived rocky times and remained intact. Yes, he irritates me sometimes and we have conflicts. But for the most part we are compatible, and continue on happy together. I’m thankful for supportive friends and family that I can lean on in my vulnerable times. This includes my AA family, which means so very much to me as I work to manage a dual diagnosis of bipolar disorder and alcoholism. My AA sponsor Shawn is especially important to me. We have met weekly for over 3 1/2 years, and he is patiently guiding me through the Steps. 

I’m thankful I have the resources for my excellent treatment team working with me to manage my bipolar type 1 with psychotic features and anxiety disorder. This includes a great psychiatrist and a talk therapist who is challenging me to keep pushing forward when all I want to do is give up and play the victim card. I’m thankful my psychiatrist tweaked my meds so I can now write again and read books. How frustrating it was when I couldn’t do either, something that I contended with for years. And I’m thankful my therapist is using eye movement therapy with me to successfully treat my trauma and anxiety stemming from repeated psychotic episodes. Finally I’m feeling relief and I’m functioning more normally.

Lastly, but perhaps most importantly, I’m thankful the obsession to drink, the craving for substances has left me. It took an extremely long time for this relief to come about, there was a whole heck of a lot of instability and repeated hospitalizations before I finally surrendered and eventually found my way back to the AA way of living. Only then did the cravings leave me. Was it the AA fellowship I found that successfully smashed the obsession? Or did a Higher Power relieve me of my weakness? Whatever the case, today I am sober and deeply thankful for it. I had been headed down a dark road but fortunately took a detour and today I walk in the light. Thank goodness for second chances. Now bring on happy, joyous and free! That’s what I’m working for. One day at a time.

Writing Prompt: AA Promises

 Prompt: Think about the AA Promises. Write something about a promise coming true in your life, or a promise(s) you would like to see happen.

Sometimes quickly, Sometimes slowly

I love it when the AA Promises are read before the meeting begins. Listening to them gives me hope that there will be a bright light at the end of my long, sometimes dark recovery journey. I’ve been at this sobriety thing off and on for 25 years; but only this recent go around have I been working with a sponsor on the Steps and earnestly looking for the promises coming true. So far, I have experienced the following promises:

1. We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it.

Like all alcoholics, I have done things in the past while drunk that I was deeply ashamed of. But when I opened up to sponsor Shawn and told him about things, my shame started to diminish. I don’t want to forget where I’ve come from and I won’t. My spiritual rock bottom was extremely vivid and painful. But today I’m on much stronger spiritual footing. There’s no room for regrets.

2. We will see how our experience can benefit others.

Attending sponsor Shawn’s Monday night Zoom for over 3 1/2 years, I’ve had ample opportunity to share my experience, strength and hope with the other attendees. I’ve been amazed by the people who have reached out to me after a meeting to let me know how much they appreciated what I shared. That makes me feel so good.

and 3. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows.

One of the most important things in my life is my relationship with sponsor Shawn and the members of my AA groups I attend. This fellowship with other alcoholics in recovery takes my focus off of myself and puts it squarely on hoping for the well being of friends trudging the same recovery road that I am. I truly love the AA fellowship I am a part of, and I care deeply about people I have met. When they share about themselves I’m interested in what they say. My life is richer because of these relationships.

As I continue working on the Steps with Shawn, I’m really looking forward to the following promises coming true: Fear of people and economic insecurity will leave us. Self seeking will slip away. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. And We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.

I’ve had glimpses of some of these promises working in my life. There are moments in my day when I feel truly peaceful and serene. And in a few instances, I’ve prayed to God and he’s taken away my acute anxiety I was feeling. I look forward to experiencing all of the promises more fully. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, they will always materialize if I work for them.

Writing Prompt: Dismantling Fear

Prompt: Take a fear you have and write about your plan should that fear become reality. That way when the fear returns we can confidently say nope, I’ve already written out a plan, no need to revisit that fear.

Dismantling Fear

I’ve shared with you before that when I did my Fourth Step with Shawn and had to write out my fear inventory, I came up with three very strong fears that plague me constantly when I’m future tripping in morning anxiety. It is the fear that I’ll end up a) alone, b) broke and c) insane. 

I assume all of these three things will be going on together, with no hope in sight. But wise AA Sponsor Shawn had me make a list of these fears, with the added instruction write underneath each fear the FACTS about where things stand today. A plan of sorts, to ensure these fears don’t come to fruition. What followed was an eye-opening exercise which left me feeling confident, definitely less fearful, and yes, optimistic that I was indeed going to be safe and OK. So let me go through this piece of paper I have, giving voice to the facts that keep me grounded in today, not a catastrophic unknown future.

Fear #1: I am alone.

Facts: I have a loving, loyal husband by my side. I have extended family all over Columbus, including my mother, brother, sister, and numerous nieces and nephews. I have numerous friends all over this town. I have my AA family, including Sponsor Shawn, my Creative Writing group, and other individuals in the recovery community. I may join a church, and find a new church family. So in other words, I am definitely not alone!

Fear #2: I am broke.

Facts: My husband and I are not broke. We have ample savings and financial security throughout retirement. We own our house. We do not live a lavish lifestyle and stay within a budget. My husband is frugal and an excellent financial planner. Everything is going to be OK. 

Fear #3: I am insane.

Facts: I have bipolar type 1 with psychotic features. I may have sporadic episodes but they are managed by one of the best psychiatrists in the city. I take my meds now as prescribed, religiously. I am completely sober from all substances, and have been for over 7 years. I get anxious I will go off the rails, but I have a safety net of doctors, family and friends around me. I know what to do if an episode starts to take hold, who to call and where to go, the hospital if need be. Every one of my episodes has a beginning, middle and end. They do not last forever. Today I am sane—and I’m like this most of the time! Can you even call me in an episode insane? Does this label even apply?

When I think about my base fears, I can see that they are rooted in this feeling that I am not going to be OK, or safe even. Sponsor Shawn said to me, Am I practicing faith that everything is going to be OK? I think about this a lot. My therapist Matt has told me to look into the mirror each morning and say, “I am safe. I am OK.” I’m experimenting with that and it’s helping.

According to the facts, my fears have no merit. Isn’t it time to let go and see my Higher Power has got me, has ensured I’m safe, I’m protected. Put your faith in the Higher Power and rest easy. Everything is handled. And that’s a fact.

My Favorite Time of Year

 My Favorite Time of Year

Well Fall is here, and that means more comfortable temperatures and beautiful colors in the trees, cooking soups and stews, and wonderful Dr. Levy taking pity on me and lowering my Risperdal dose from 4 mg./day to 3.5 mg. Hooray! I feel crisper, more motivated, and isn’t that wonderful after months and months feeling zoned out and fatigued. I feel greedy, I want to go down to 3 mg. but easy does it, Melissa, I don’t want to tip into an episode like I did in 2022 when I was down to 1.5 mg of the Risperdal.

So I’m just going to enjoy where I am, and proceed with my new water exercise classes I found. They meet twice a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I’m making new friends. I feel better, stronger, I’m delighted I’m out of the recliner and moving! I’m trying to walk more too, though it’s slower going with me very reluctant to leave my chair in the morning.

 My husband, bless his soul, keeps encouraging me to join him on his morning walks which I promised to do when the weather got cooler. Well, here we are, it’s Fall with temps in the 60s and 70s, perfect for strolling so what’s my excuse? I have none. Just need to push through this initial resistance but that’s hard. Don’t give up trying!

OSU football has started and the Columbus Blue Jackets hockey season starts in a few days. So that will keep me occupied. My writing group is still going strong, something I find very rewarding and I love the fellowship with the other participants. All in all I’m happy, sure I get a little stressed and anxious in the morning but besides that everything is OK. I’ll take it.

On Sunday, October 13 my husband and I celebrate our 23rd anniversary. I can’t believe we’ve been together this long, time flies and all that. We are going out to dinner to Cento, a neighborhood Italian restaurant that recently opened. I’m excited to have the night off from cooking, and to have someone else doing the dinner dishes. 

AA continues to be important to me, and I’m doing my meeting zooms plus attending an in person meeting every now and then. I’ve recently joined a prayer accountability text group with a few guys from Shawn’s sponsee family. Basically, we check in with one another to describe what we are praying for, and offer encouragement to one another. Praying doesn’t come easily to me, and I’m hoping this text group will help with that. 

I continue working with sponsor Shawn on the AA Steps. I’m still on Step 7, parked here because of a current crisis of confidence in my Higher Power, but I’m working through that. Shawn doesn’t push me, and I appreciate that, I’ve got space and time to list my shortcomings and humbly ask Him to remove them. This is a real commitment to my Higher Power, the rubber is meeting the road, and I want to be sure when I complete this step. 

So this is my update for now. It’s a beautiful day today, and I’m going to get out and enjoy it. Easy does it, everyone, bloom where you are planted. See ya. 

Writing Prompt: A Great Pumpkin

 Prompt: Write about something you do very seldom that most people wouldn’t know about you that you feel is actually a big part of who you are.

A Great Pumpkin

Once in a blue moon my husband Michael and I will rally in October and make the drive down to Circleville for the annual Circleville Pumpkin Show. I love these small town festivals, and who doesn’t love seeing the 2,400 lb. pumpkin crowned winner as heaviest of them all? Yes, there’s all the competing pumpkins to see, and then all the pumpkin foods to sample, like pumpkin hamburgers, pumpkin doughnuts, and of course the crowd-pleasing pumpkin pie. And if you like people-watching like I do, it’s a feast for the eyes to gaze into the crowd of 100,000 people that show up each of the four days of the Show.

My husband was raised in Circleville, so for him it’s a trip down memory lane when we go back to his home town. Sometimes when we go down for the Pumpkin Show we’ll leave the festival and drive by his old house, which used to be considered a solitary place in the country outside of town, but now has been surrounded by adjacent houses and some business development nearby. We never have stopped by the house and tried to meet the current occupants. Instead we just do a slow drive-by. That seems to suffice these days. But I love seeing the place where Michael spent his younger years, I imagine him raking the yard and bagging leaves for his allowance. I think his stingy Dad paid him $5.00. 

But back to the Pumpkin Show, and that wonderful, small-town vibe you get when you attend the yearly festival. I really, really love this, and although I’ve lived almost exclusively in large urban centers for most of my life, I really think I would love having a homestead in a small town like Circleville, where everyone pretty much knows one another and a lot of each other’s business. Occasionally a meaty scandal rocks the town, like right now the police department in Circleville is under investigation. Eventually things get sorted out, some people get fired and move away from town. Life goes on.

There are different parades during the four day Pumpkin Show, and I’ve seen the Little Miss Pumpkin beauty pageant parade as well as the Circleville High School marching band. Michael was in the band back in the early 1980s, back when it was a really big deal, with over 200 people participating. Michael played the trumpet, and wore black and red clothing in a military style as well as a tall, black furry hat. I wish I had the chance to see him playing with that large ensemble. What a sight that must have been!

My husband turned 60 in August and he’s pushing to convince me to move to a more rural locale for this next chapter of our lives. Perhaps we will end up somewhere down in Pickaway County, closer to Circleville. But then again maybe we will just stay put here in German Village. Who knows. I’m just taking things one day at a time, and right now we’ve got our own mixed assortment of pumpkins outside on the porch, just waiting to be carved. And I know how to make a mean pumpkin pie. Guess the pumpkin show for us is here this year. I don’t mind. There’s always next year to see the great pumpkin at the Circleville Pumpkin Show. 

Writing Prompt: A Favorite Room

Prompt: Visualize what's currently inside your favorite room. Why are those things in there? Who bought them? Why do you love the room? 

A Favorite Room

There are several rooms inside this 1906 home of mine that I enjoy immensely. I spend most of my time either in my kitchen or the TV room, but it’s the adjacent parlor room with working fireplace that I’d like to discuss today. 

My time spent in the parlor is limited primarily to the cold winter months, when my husband lights a fire for me and I curl up on the pine green leather sofa to watch the flames. Basset Lily will jump up on the couch with me and nestle in next to me. I bought this leather couch myself almost 25 years ago, back when I was single and wanted to splurge on a piece of furniture. I’m not exactly sure how much I spent on the couch but I think it was over $1,000. Nice couch.

The parlor room is filled with interesting, eclectic things purchased by both myself and my husband. Some lovely paintings hang on the walls, a landscape with trees, and three paintings purchased from a gallery specializing in American Realism. I also have a framed Toulouse Lautrec print of a red haired showgirl he loved to paint.

There’s a sampling of antiques in the parlor that we’ve gotten from our parents. I got us something called a dry sink, a large wooden piece with shelves below a top resembling a sink with no faucet or drain. Inside the dry sink I have some of my mother’s china, some nice bowls, and some formal place setting pieces. Next to the dry sink is a large antique pie safe, basically a wooden storage cabinet from years ago. My husband inherited it from his mom and uses it to store miscellaneous items, and I stashed my old portable CD player/radio in it that I used to play all the time. In the far corner of the room sits the antique secretary my husband also got from his mom. He keeps important mail and documents in there. I’m glad we’ve put the piece to use. 

There’s an antique hat and coat hanger on a portion of the wall to the left of the fireplace. Both my husband and I love to wear hats, and we’ve amassed quite a collection. There’s my husband’s Stetson hats, and my Russian furry hats in faux leopard and black mink. All the assorted ball caps from the different sports teams we support. And one of my favorite hats, an olive green fedora that makes quite a statement when I wear it out.

The focal point in the parlor room is the fireplace, and the wood mantelpiece over it with a mirror. We have an assortment of items on it, including “Harry” a stuffed squirrel; a large, silver vase in the shape of a fish stuffed with peacock feathers; a pair of bronzed baby shoes I found at an antique shop; a painting on a piece of tin of a red rooster with the lettering, “Warning: A Bipolar Rooster Lives Here”; and a small wooden frame around the following quote: “Opportunity may knock once, but temptation bangs on your front door forever.”

So this has been a brief look at a room that has given me pleasure throughout the years. Soon winter will be upon us and I’ll be back in the parlor, gazing at a fire and all the eccentric items in the room. For now the room is quiet, just waiting for me. Soon I’ll be in there. Soon.

Writing Prompt: Attention Kroger Shoppers

Prompt: Write about your experience with a favorite neighborhood restaurant or store.

Attention Kroger Shoppers

My week wouldn’t be complete without my usual run to our local Kroger in the Brewery District. It’s my second home of sorts, I’ve got all the aisles memorized so I can find what’s on my list pretty effortlessly. My shopping list, now that’s something humorous to note, I’m one of those people who still writes everything down on a piece of notebook paper, I’m unwilling to use the Notes App on my phone. That’s too complicated. Yes, I troll the aisles of my Kroger with one hand on my cart, the other holding the notebook paper list. Whatever works, I guess.

I have a method for my shopping at Kroger, I always start in the produce section, then move forward as follows: Cheese section then deli; seafood and meat section; bread section, and then cover all the canned and boxed goods in the aisles. Next dairy, then frozen vegetables and frozen breads. And finally eggs, yogurt and if I want to splurge, I’ll buy ice cream.

Sometimes I’ll deviate slightly from this order, like if I need to buy napkins or shampoo, flowers or a greeting card. But mostly I stick to the same route through the store, moving slowly but with purpose. I do tend to people watch in Kroger, and sometimes I’ll strike up a conversation with someone if I see them putting interesting items in their cart. Like ask them what they are cooking, or if they recommend a certain product.

I do notice that most folks in my Kroger are only buying a few things, whereas I’m wheeling a big cart full of stuff. Perhaps they come more frequently to the store than me, with my once a week shop. Or maybe people around me just don’t cook that much, or perhaps they are getting groceries delivered. Who knows. But for the most part when I go to my Kroger in the early afternoon on a weekday it’s not crowded at all and I like that.

When it comes to checking out, I really don’t like those self-serve check outs where you scan and bag everything yourself. So I’ll go and wait in the one line my Kroger has with a cashier and hopefully a bagger assisting. I’m never in a rush, I just patiently wait for my turn, when I place my items on the belt in an orderly fashion. Frozen items up first, then refrigerated ones, then cans and miscellaneous items and lastly all my produce to be weighed and rung up. I present any coupons if I have them and have my Kroger card scanned. Then pay my bill, which hopefully isn’t too steep but with inflation who knows.

So that’s my Kroger experience, something I do weekly, regardless of weather conditions. Gotta keep the refrigerator full so I can get food on the table for my husband and myself. I’m glad my Kroger is nearby, only 5 minutes away by car, so if I forget something on my list I can easily pick it up later. Do you shop at a Kroger too? I’d love to hear about your grocery shopping experience if you’d like to share!

Why My Med Tweaks Don’t Work

 Ok, so for the third time, I tried tweaking my anxiety medication (Gabapentin) down on my own because I didn’t like the sedation it was causing. It was a disaster, I started calling mom in the morning, gripped in panic and fear and she just couldn’t help me. Why I don’t learn my lesson I don’t know, so here we are, I’ve added the 800 mg. Gabapentin back to my daily dose and yes, I’m now feeling blessed relief from anxiety in the morning. 

I need to just stop trying to take matters into my own hands. I need to stop fighting the meds, just accept the side effects. If I’m sedate, I’m sedate, if all I can muster is a two block walk then so be it. I signed up to use a warm water pool two days a week but if I’m terrified of having a fainting incident then maybe it’s not the right place for me right now.

The fact is I had a very upsetting fainting incident a month ago which included coming to and vomiting and going to the ER in the squad. I’ve since quit nicotine gum, even though my doctors can’t pinpoint the gum as a cause for my faint. Without knowing a definitive cause, I’m frightened I’ll faint again and that’s causing me to limit trips from home. I want to isolate, and I know that’s terrible for me. 

I’m going through nicotine withdrawal which is screwing up my sleep, plus I’m feeling physically off, just don’t feel well. Not nauseous per se but no appetite, kinda run down, just feel poorly. I’m assuming all this will pass? I don’t know. I talk to Dr. Levy tomorrow, I see Dr. Schumacher next week and I can ask them. I have expectations of feeling much better than this, and it’s not like I want to go back to the nicotine gum but damn, I’m tired of feeling like shit.

My 50s have been horrible, don’t mean to put all this negativity out here but it’s how I feel right now. I’ll feel better after I eat brunch and settle into the afternoon. It’s Labor Day today, a holiday, time to relax and be free from worry and angst. I hope I feel better soon. Deep breath, Melissa. Stay in today and let whatever you do today be enough.

Writing Prompt: The ABCs of Gratitude

 Prompt: Write about gratitude.

ABC (Always Be Contemplating) Gratitude 

I’ve been out of sorts lately, restless, irritable and discontent, and that calls for sitting down and drawing up a Gratitude List. It’s amazing how things always tend to look better after I’ve taken time to contemplate what I am grateful for in my life. I first learned about the Gratitude List exercise from my time in AA but I’ve since learned that lots of different organizations and avenues call on people to jot down what they are grateful for. It’s a powerful exercise and I’m glad I’m familiar with it. 

So here we go, today I’m extremely grateful for:

1. My Sobriety. This always comes first on any gratitude list I do, for everything hinges on my sober life. I treasure my sobriety and work hard to protect it. 

2. My family support, particularly from my husband Michael, and mom Wendy. Both have stood by my side as I struggle through management of my bipolar and anxiety disorders. I’m very lucky to have their support. 

3. Sponsor Shawn and the AA community. Thank goodness Shawn came into my life 4 years ago. I’ve had much personal growth as we’ve slowly been working through the Steps. Shawn has also made it possible for me to meet fellow folks in AA by hosting his Monday night Zoom and having various holiday gatherings at his home. I’m deeply grateful for Shawn and the AA fellowship.

4. To have a roof over my head, plus to live in the historic, picturesque German Village neighborhood. 

5. For food on the table, and to be able to indulge in my passion for cooking.

6. My Mental health stability and treatment team including my psychiatrist and talk therapist. Being dually diagnosed with bipolar disorder and alcoholism means I have to work extra hard to manage my life, and I’m blessed to have top notch mental health practitioners to work with who help keep me sane and sober. For me, I need to be medicine compliant, following directions or else everything falls apart. I’m done living in the unstable world of substance abuse and tinkering with meds. I’m living a life now where mental health treatment compliance and sobriety are of upmost importance. I’m grateful I see that now, and the chaos from years past is over.

7. Female friendships outside of AA. I like to keep a somewhat active social life going with local friends I have. I enjoy having coffee or lunch or dinner with friends. I’m working hard not to be isolated, even though sometimes I get anxious about going out. 

8. My Basset Hound Lily who is like a child to me. 

9. To be retired. My time is mine to spend as I choose. Enough said.

10. And lastly, I’m deeply grateful for this writing group. This is a place where I can freely express myself in a way I love: the written word. We have built a wonderful space for fellowship and sharing. I’m honored to be a part of this community.

Writing Prompt: Vision Quest

 Prompt: Write a vision statement for where you are one year from now, as if you’re telling an old friend about what a wonderful year you’ve just had. (What does the promises coming true look like for you?)

Vision Quest

There is a really cheesy movie from the 1980s about a high school wrestler called “Vision Quest.” The kid works out really, really hard and wins the big wrestling tournament at the end of the movie. I thought of that movie title when I was first considering this week’s writing prompt, to write a vision statement providing a peek into the future, or maybe just do some pontificating on what having the AA promises come true in my life might look like to me. Me seeking out the promises has been a quest, a long journey I’ve been on during the course of the past 25 years I’ve been in and out of AA. And when I think about where I might be a year from now, I definitely hope I’ve moved closer to having the promises come true.

As for the promises, right now I have definitely come to know a new freedom from alcohol and a new happiness from being sober. A year from now, I certainly want to have comprehended the word serenity and want to be actively knowing peace. That’s very important. I’ve lived in chaos for a long time and I hope I have calm and quiet dominating my time. Hopefully by next year my unnecessary fear of economic insecurity has left me, and I have learned how to intuitively handle situations which used to baffle me. 

The promises precisely describe a wonderful envisioned future that lies ahead for anyone who commits to working the 12 Steps. I do so hope I will have my Step work completed next year, so a new manner of living is gained, and I have a happier relationship to life. I always remember the familiar mantra, “Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, they (the promises) will always materialize if we work for them.” For me it’s definitely been slowly, as I’m one who struggles with relinquishing self will and turning things over to my higher power.

Yes my vision quest finds me a year from now living in the AA promises of freedom, happiness, peace, and serenity, and working to be a benefit to others. I will have gained a whole new outlook on life, where the dread and negativity of alcoholism has been completely eradicated. This would be a complete departure from the fear, regret, feelings of uselessness, self pity, selfishness and self seeking I sometimes experience now. I do so want this future living in the promises. One day at a time, I’ll get there.

End of Summer Update

 Well hello there, dear readers, I am very close to making it through another dry, oppressive hot summer and I couldn’t be happier for the coming of Fall. Just need to survive this current hot streak at the end of August, and I’ll do so by staying inside in the AC. My husband loves this hot weather but I can’t stand it. As always, I blame my meds for my discomfort but maybe menopause is playing a part too.

Speaking of meds, I’m miserable again over my current med cocktail. Just sick and tired of feeling lethargic and fatigued, and being overweight, and now not wanting to cook anything. Everything is a hassle to do. To try and improve matters, I cut my Gabapentin dose by 800 mg., now I’m down to 3,200 mg/day and I’d like to go lower at some point. My anxiety isn’t so acute, and actually my husband and I quit the nicotine gum two weeks ago; you would think maybe my anxiety would increase from this, but no, the opposite is true. 

I’m happy with the Depakote being at 625 mg., but it’s the Risperdal that is the bane of my existence. I do not want to be at this dosage of 4 mg/day, I want to be lower. But Dr. Levy won’t budge, he’s keeping me at this dose. It’s just not fair, this wretched drug robs me of energy and motivation and makes talking hard, laughing near impossible, and I’m fat. I hate it so much. You could tell me to just stop taking it but no, I’ve been there before and all that happens is the mania comes roaring back along with the psychosis and all the trouble and trauma that brings.

So I’m stuck here in this medicated hell, sober because I’m an alcoholic and addict, trapped in an ugly brown recliner. I don’t like it when my posts dissolve into bitching about my life and the meds, it’s so depressing to read. I need to dig deep again and think about things I’m grateful for, switch gears from the negative to the positive. I must never forget that summertime is notoriously difficult for me, I get frustrated and down, but things improve dramatically in the cooler temps of Fall and Winter. So don’t fret, Melissa. Better times are coming.

This be the verse for today, gonna try to lean into Easy Does It I think. I’ll soon make my morning phone call to mom for support and reassurance. Then I have my writing group this afternoon, I’ve been struggling with my writing lately, words aren’t flowing like they usually do. Oh well. Just another day in the life. Until next time. See ya.

Up In Smoke

Up In Smoke

For months, I’ve been spending my mornings in my brown recliner, anxiously fretting and worrying about catastrophic future scenarios that never come to pass. Or I’ve been gripped in fear over a future scenario of being alone, broke and insane on some bench downtown, with no one helping me. All of this started when I outlined my fears in my 4th Step with sponsor Shawn awhile ago. Ever since, I’ve been gripping tight to these fears, unwilling to let them go and just be open to the possibility that my Higher Power has a better outcome in store for me.

Remaining “trapped” in this recliner, battling fears and inertia and sedation caused by my bipolar medication, has been something I desperately want to change. It feels like a rock bottom very similar to the one I experienced with alcohol and marijuana years ago. I voiced this to my talk therapist Matt and he in turn posed a very interesting suggestion to me.

“What if you were to burn the recliner?” he asked. I laughed. “My husband is extremely frugal,” I replied. “He wouldn’t like it.” He went on to ask me to take a picture of the recliner and send it to him so he could print it out. Then he handed me the picture at our next session and told me to take it home and write on the back of it all of the things I wanted to let go of. 

“And then bring the picture back and we will burn it,” Matt said. “Is this burn therapy?” I asked. “You could say that,” he replied.

So I did everything Matt asked of me, and this past week we met to send all my inertia and fear and shame and self-flagellation up in smoke. After making our way outside to the parking lot in front of his building, I got teary-eyed as Matt handed me the lighter to set my recliner picture aflame. I wanted to cry over the countless hours I’ve spent worrying in the recliner, time that could have been spent in a much more productive way. But not wanting to beat myself up, I instead whispered, “Goodbye to you” and set the lighter’s flame to the piece of paper.

As the flame consumed the paper, I tossed it into a small, silver trash can Matt had brought out. Soon there was nothing left but ash, and we slowly made our way back to Matt’s office. He put the ashes into a baggie for me, telling me to mix it with some soil in a container and perhaps plant something in it. My husband is the gardener, not me, but I might try my hand at planting something. 

Was the burn therapy successful? Well, I’m sitting in the recliner this morning and I don’t feel as glued to it as before. I’m honestly considering getting dressed and going for a walk, a new twist to my morning routine. I don’t feel anxious right now, making me wonder if maybe I might be able to dial back a little the dosage of my anxiety medication. I’ll ask my psychiatrist what he thinks about that. All in all, I feel optimistic about things. I’ll take that as a sign of progress. 

Writing Prompt: An Ode To Nicotine

 Prompt: Write about a “remember when” scenario.

An Ode To Nicotine 

I’m giving up nicotine gum today. Setting aside an over 12 year habit, meant to be a temporary 6-week step towards giving up cigarettes, but rather I’ve been chewing this gum for years. My husband Michael is joining me in this endeavor, so there will be someone else here going through nicotine withdrawal and all the irritability and bitchiness that brings out.

My main reason for giving up the gum is pretty straightforward: I’ve been having fainting spells, and the only reasons my doctors can identify as a cause for them is I was feeling anxious and I was chewing the gum. So that’s it, I’m quitting the gum. But we will also be saving a lot of money by not buying it anymore, and that pleases my frugal husband immensely. 

Nicotine and I have had a long love affair. I had my first cigarette at around 10 or 11 years old when a friend of mine and I stole one out of a pack of my mom’s and hid in the family station wagon in the garage and used the car lighter to light the smoke. We took turns dragging on it, feeling dangerous and heady and giggling. At age 16, I was buying clove cigarettes at the gas station. By age 18, I was buying packs of Marlboro Lights and I would build up to a two-pack a day habit. I’m old enough that I remember smoking on airplanes, smoking in bars, in restaurants, and even in the offices where I worked. And I definitely remember smoking in AA meetings.

I remember sneaking around trying to hide my cigarette smoking from my husband when he insisted I stop smoking and switch to the nicotine gum. The behavior was very similar to the sneaking around I did with booze towards the end of my drinking career, hiding wine bottles and after chugging down contents, tossing the empty bottles in the neighbor’s trash can.

They say that quitting nicotine is harder than settling aside alcohol. To prepare to say goodbye to this four decade old habit, my husband and I have purchased regular gum, hard candy, and sugary soft drinks. As I sit here, chewing my last piece of nicotine gum, I’m honestly feeling relief  and feeling optimistic about a more healthy future. Check in with me tonight though when I’m in the throes of withdrawal and things might not be as rosy. 

But it’s goodbye to you, nicotine, thanks for the memories, some not so good. You’re a hard habit to break, but it’s time for you to go. Thank goodness I have my husband here beside me joining me in this effort. And I’m grateful to have the experience of quitting alcohol to lean into right now. As always, it’s gonna be a one day at a time endeavor. I look forward to the promises coming true, especially knowing a new freedom and a new happiness. Getting ready to chew the sugar free peppermint gum now. Wish me luck! Adios nicotine. Our time is done.

Writing Prompt: A Magical Discovery

 Prompt: Write a scene based on a story we know happened, but didn’t actually witness.

A Magical Discovery

Students of Art History 101 are often taught in the beginning of class about the fantastic Lascaux, France prehistoric cave paintings. Lauscaux is a network of caves in southwestern France, and the paintings stretching along the caves are estimated to be at least 17,000 years old.

A lesser known fact about Lascaux is the story of the discovery of the cave on September 12, 1940 by four teenage boys. It’s a truly intriguing tale. According to the boys, there was a local story about a secret tunnel that led to a buried treasure and the boys thought they had found it when one of the boy’s dog named Robot investigated a hole left by an uprooted tree. Lacking the appropriate tools to investigate, the boys had to come back the next day. 

When they reconvened, they enlarged the hole, then carefully slid down a 50 foot shaft which they described as terrifying into the cave. Using a hastily constructed lamp, the boys made their way down a long, narrow passageway which opened up and then they came upon the first cave paintings. Historians describe this as one of archaeology’s most exciting discoveries. Little did the boys know they were opening  up a new era in our knowledge of prehistoric art and human origins.

Holding up their crude lamp, the boys beheld a fabulous collection of stenciled animal drawings done with iron oxide, charcoal and ochre. There are three major animal themes: horses, cows and bulls, and deer. Also a bear is depicted, along with arrows and traps. Called the “Sistine Chapel of Prehistory” in Art History texts, the boys described the paintings as a “cavalcade of animals larger than life that seemed to be moving.” 

The boys would go on to explore the entire cave, which contains approximately 600 wall paintings covering the interior walls and ceiling of the cave. Historians say the paintings represent the combined effort of many generations of painters.

Tremendously excited, the boys promised each other to keep the discovery a secret, then explored the cave together again the next day. After that, they decided to show it to friends for a tiny admission fee. The news quickly spread in the village and so many came to see the cave that the boys decided to notify their teacher.

When their teacher saw the paintings, he instantly recognized them as prehistoric and insisted that no one be allowed to touch the paintings, and that they must be guarded against vandalism. The appropriate historical authorities were notified, and for a time, guided tours of the cave were permitted. But eventually the original Lauscaux cave was closed to the public in 1963, due to the paintings’ deteriorating condition. 

I guess we can say the boys’ search for buried treasure was successful. I am remembering back to the days when I was young and fascinated by the prospect of finding a treasure myself. I can only imagine the excitement the boys felt when first seeing the Lauscaux paintings, and I laugh when I think of the boys charging an admission fee for their friends to get a tour. To be young and filled with adventure! I miss those days. Here’s to all the wonderment and excitement with a fantastic discovery. And this tale is magical.

Writing Prompt: Who Are You When You Write?

Prompt: Who are you when you're writing? How is that person different from who you are in other settings? What do you want to do with your writing?

Who Are You?

Who I am when I’m writing as of late is a person who wants to express herself. And also someone who wants to find out how and why I tick. Writing has always seemed to be an excellent vehicle to achieve these two things, and it’s a medium I turn to time and time again. I feel a strong compulsion to write, and it has been this way for as long as I can remember. Maybe it’s as simple as using the written word to help me help myself. Therapy 101. Whatever the case, I love to write, most often about my bipolar disorder.

 My writing can vary greatly depending on the time of day. In the morning hours, lately I can lean towards being anxious, catastrophic and complaining; not the best company to be around. I grasp for words I think might save me from despair, and I can veer towards the melodramatic in my written pieces. In my morning pages, I’ve been hurting emotionally, I’ve been angry, most of all I’ve been frustrated. There’s also fear there too, never far away.

But then come afternoon and evening, it’s like a metamorphosis has occurred. My writing takes on a much more optimistic tone, I see possibilities, sometimes I might even reflect on a happy ending. The swing in my written work can appear very profound, and I think this offers a particularly good example of my bipolar mind at work. Tormented in the morning, liberated in the afternoon. Such is the writing “me” right now, as a woman in her late fifties chronicling her recovery from alcoholism and management of bipolar disorder.

In different settings, like when I’m at an AA meeting or out to dinner with friends, there’s still a touch of that familiar anxiety gnawing away at my gut, but I’m getting more confident with myself and it’s highly unlikely you’d notice any swing or shift in my demeanor. I’m very caring, compassionate and kind. I’m normally not candidly probing the depth of my feelings in public, like I do in my writing, so I’m removed from the sometimes rougher honesty that comes across in my written words. Though in places like sponsor Shawn’s AA Zoom on Monday nights, I’m opening up and telling my story more and more so my honest feelings are shining through.

Finally, as to what I want to accomplish with my writing, it’s pretty straightforward. I want to move from deep soul searching into something a little more removed from the self and more pointed towards exploration outward, more reflection on external events and the world around me. Being bipolar I’m kinda hot wired to be constantly assessing my mood and myself for any irregularities; I want to break free of that just a little bit and perhaps pen some fiction. Don’t get me wrong, I think my strength right now is personal reflection but I want to also focus my energy on new endeavors too.

I really enjoy the writing prompt of describing a person, place or thing, and I think a goal for myself is to take that prompt and tease out the beginnings of a fiction piece. Perhaps work on a short story, that’s something I’d like to attempt. I’d like to free myself up from constant musings about bipolar disorder and instead focus on a scene I create from my own imagination. Jesse’s prompt for next week on the “power of imagination” might be a launch pad for me to work on my goal.

Sunday Check-In

 So I fell asleep in my chair at 8:30 last night, and after going up at 11:00, I slept until 6:30 this morning. I’m feeling good, the morning dose of Gabapentin has kicked in, so I don’t feel troubled or stressed which is great. Still struggling with motivation and moving, but maybe that’s just how it’s going to be. Michael is busy doing tasks this morning, perhaps I just let him do the heavy lifting and I sit back and relax.

Tonight is the AA memorial meeting for Dan, who committed suicide in Mexico last month after his wife Jess died. I am not going to the in person meeting, I’m going to attend via Zoom. Just want to be a little removed from the service, after participating directly with Jess’s service last month. These deaths really rattled me and I need a little space to just keep my wits about me.

This summer has been tough for me, just like years past, with the oppressive heat and now humidity. I read that it’s the Risperdal that makes me heat intolerant, oh well, no going to Florida anytime soon. I’m biding my time indoors in the AC, back to my brown recliner which gets so much use these days. Could be worse, I keep telling myself that.

No real plans for today, I’ll probably read though I should be bagging up old clothes for donation to Salvation Army. I’ll get to that someday. Gratefully, the house is clean, we had cleaners come two days ago and they did a marvelous job with the kitchen and bathrooms, and dusting everywhere and mopping the entire downstairs. Michael was pleased so we will be having them back, which makes me so very happy.

So in a nutshell what I am able to do with great precision and every day is prepare excellent meals, and keep the kitchen clean, do the dishes every night, and do the necessary grocery shopping. I can hang my hat on that, I’m dependable in that regard. I guess it gives me purpose, which is what I want. Oh, and I’m able to do my laundry and get the sheets cleaned, so I’m not a one-trick pony after all.

I’ll always wish I could do more, but the medication is just too disabling. No more fighting it though. Enough is enough. I’m 58, post-menopausal, I’m tired, it is what it is. Pass me a book and a cool drink. Crank up the AC. Another summer spent hermiting in place. That’s me. Just biding my time until Fall. Can’t come soon enough!

Writing Prompt: A Glimpse Of Peace

 Prompt: Pick a human experience and describe it.

A Glimpse Of Peace

I had a very profound moment a few weeks back that I’d like to share. It was morning time, I was gripped with crippling anxiety again, and in desperation I closed my eyes and said a prayer to my Higher Power to take away my difficulties, just take it, take my worries and help me. 

When I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, I felt the most wonderful feeling of pure peace come over me. I was completely amazed, I never really pray like I’ve been told to do, I didn’t think prayer would work for me. But I did it and I immediately experienced a taste of peace I have wanted for so very long.

Peace for me that morning was being calm, feeling extremely relaxed in my skin, eased from troubles and worries, breathing deeply and feeling present in the moment. I felt total contentment, I was free from trying to control outcomes. I was in true acceptance of myself and my surroundings, I wasn’t fighting anything anymore. 

Humans are often rushing around, stressed beyond belief, or in my case the opposite, frozen and panicked about some unknown future scenario. Being able to experience a state of peace, no matter how brief, is a blessing. It’s a transformative experience, it’s a quieting of the turmoil plaguing us. In a word, peace is beautiful.

My goal is to be able to experience this taste of peace much more frequently, to tap into it every morning if possible. I definitely need to become more comfortable with prayer. I will work with sponsor Shawn on that. Right now it may be going against my nature to attain a peaceful state, but that does not mean things can’t change. Easy does it. It’s practice, not perfection. Deep breath. I got this.

Therapy Assignment

 Assignment: a) Why am I my biggest enemy? b) Write about being at peace.

Why Am I My Biggest Enemy?

I think I get into trouble because I sabotage myself by constantly comparing myself to others, and berating myself for not being like the person I am comparing to. Examples include not having a clean house like others, and not walking 10,000 steps a day like my husband. My grandmother used to say, “Comparisons are odious.” I need to remember that wisdom.

When I am caught up in constantly comparing myself to others it does nothing but make me feel like shit and wrecks my self-esteem. I become unable to find joy in what I do well, like cooking and writing, for example. So why do I do this? Why have I become my biggest enemy? Maybe I am a perfectionist, with unrealistic expectations of what I think I should be achieving. Maybe I’m not comfortable with just being me, flaws and all, with shortcomings. 

Maybe I have a fierce Inner Critic, who I think is supposed to keep me in line? Hold me up to impossible standards set by some unknown authority figure from my youth. I’m extremely hard on myself, have been for as long as I remember. Despite the disabling impact of my bipolar medication, I still want to achieve something great—and I punish myself for falling up short. 

Yes, I have become the enemy, ripping apart my self-esteem, and standing in the way of me finding serenity and peace. Help me to help myself. Please.

A Glimmer Of Peace

I had a very profound moment a few weeks back that I’d like to share. It was morning time, I was gripped with crippling anxiety again, and in desperation I closed my eyes and said a prayer to my Higher Power to take away my difficulties, just take it, take my worries and help me. 

When I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, I felt the most wonderful feeling of pure peace come over me. I was completely amazed, I never really pray like I’ve been told to do, I didn’t think prayer would work for me. But I did it and I immediately experienced a taste of peace I have wanted for so very long.

Peace for me that morning was being calm, feeling extremely relaxed in my skin, eased from troubles and worries, breathing deeply and feeling present in the moment. I felt total contentment, I was free from trying to control outcomes. I was in true acceptance of myself and my surroundings, I wasn’t fighting anything anymore. 

My goal is to be able to experience this taste of peace much more frequently, to tap into it every morning if possible. I think one key may be to defeat the Inner Critic. That is going to take some work. I definitely need to become more comfortable with prayer. I will work with sponsor Shawn on that. This is about progress, not perfection. I need to keep reminding myself of that too.

Readjusting the Anxiety Med

 Well I spoke too soon, the anxiety came back, resulting in weepy phone calls to mom in the morning and afternoon too. After a discussion with her yesterday, I consented to go back up the 400 mg dose of my Gabapentin at noon time. So in total for the anxiety I’m taking 4,000 mg Gabapentin, spaced out between four intervals a day. I guess I feel a touch defeated but I’m trying hard to not get down about it.

 I’m pushing really hard into acceptance of the meds and their side effects; I’m so exhausted from bitching about it. I think if I had more things going on in my life to occupy me I would be happier. So I’m gonna look around for more opportunities to do things, what I’m not exactly sure but something will come up.

In the interim I keep myself occupied with writing, reading and cooking. Doesn’t sound like much but it’s what I do. Mom and I have a water aerobics class starting up next month, so that’s something to look forward to. I have therapist Matt and AA sponsor Shawn working with me weekly. And husband Michael and mom watching over me. Plus friends I keep in touch with. Things are OK.

I feel the Gabapentin kicking in and I feel better. My life consists of trade-offs. More sedation but less worry and fear. I accept it’s worth it to be free of panic even if the cost is some grogginess. I’m wondering if I need a support group of people on bipolar meds? Perhaps I’ll investigate. Ok enough for now. Time to rest.

Writing Prompt: Grant Me The Serenity

 Prompt: Write about what the Serenity Prayer means to you.

Grant Me The Serenity

God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.

I really like the Serenity Prayer. Really. Any time, anywhere I encounter difficulties, I can just quietly recite this prayer and feel some semblance of peace. There’s a reason most AA meetings have attendees recite this prayer at the opening or closing; it just puts one in a good place. 

I’ve been struggling for the past month, and relying on the Serenity Prayer more and more. In particular, lately I’ve been extremely aggravated and frustrated that I must take certain medication for my bipolar disorder that has terrible side effects of fatigue, lack of motivation, and some cognitive impairment, among other things. The current heat wave we are having is making things even worse and I’ve felt powerless and depressed.

But then I thought about the Serenity Prayer and how I might apply it to this situation. First, I must accept that I cannot change the fact that I have to take this medication, as prescribed. I’ve done the rodeo of tinkering with dosages on my own, or skipping doses completely, basically not being med compliant and all that led to was repeated hospitalizations. I’m stable now, I’m sane, and that is of upmost importance. My medicine works. So no changing it.

That leaves me with these side effects I can’t stand, a common complaint from those taking bipolar medication. Can the Serenity Prayer be of help? Well, let’s think about courage to change the things I can. I’ve been consulting with my psychiatrist and therapist about things I can do to combat the fatigue and motivational struggles I have. Suggestions include getting myself out of my recliner and taking a walk in the morning; and breaking down chores to short, manageable tasks. 

As for my cognitive impairment, I’m doing things like actively participating in this writing group, working on written pieces to keep the creative juices flowing. Some weeks it’s easier to write than others, but I remain committed to doing the best I can. There was a time when I was on a higher dose of one of my meds and I couldn’t write at all. I’m extremely grateful that I eventually had that med adjusted and I can share my written words with you today. I am also an avid reader of books, and I recently decided to join a book club. I think the discussions will be good for me, and I can further push myself cognitively to engage with others. 

Life is always going to hand you curveballs, and this bipolar medication I have to take is one of them. But knowing that although I have to take meds, I can work to mitigate the negative impacts does give me some of that sometimes elusive serenity I so desperately seek. That’s what brought me back to AA almost 4 years ago, the search for peace and serenity. Thank goodness the wisdom of the Serenity Prayer is spoken at all my meetings, and I’ve learned how to incorporate it in my life today. Chalk this up to the prayer works if you work it. Some serenity granted. Guaranteed. I’ll certainly take that. Wouldn’t you?

Accentuate The Positive

 So I thought maybe it was time to reflect on some positive things going for me right now; I get so bogged down moaning about the med side effects that it gets very depressing to hear. Plus it’s repetitive, it’s the same old bitching about fatigue and lack of motivation, blah, blah, blah. Enough already. Time for a Gratitude List, haven’t done that in awhile, so here goes:

Gratitude List In A Heatwave

1. I’m sane and sober. No wandering outside in the heat; no hungover headache to contend with, or guilty regrets.

2. I’m inside in the AC; completely comfortable and cool. 

3. I’m well hydrated, glass of ice water at my side.

4. My husband Michael is here, taking care of me and Basset Lily.

5. I have my books and the TV to occupy me.

6. Mom or my friends are a phone call away if I start to feel isolated.

7. I can practice my writing.

8. I can create cold dishes for us to enjoy for dinner.

9. I can Zoom an AA meeting.

10. I have a fan in the bedroom so I can sleep comfortably at night.

***

It’s oppressive outside right now but I’m completely comfortable here inside. How fortunate I am. Things appear to be working well with that slight reduction we did last weekend with my Gabapentin. I feel alert this afternoon. I like that. If things continue to go well I will ask Dr. Levy if we can reduce my 4:00 pm dose by 400 mg. I won’t push it, but it might be something we consider. Right now I think my anxiety is well-controlled. What a relief!

I’m making tacos for dinner tonight, easy meal to prepare and I won’t be using the stove for that long. I make a special tomato avocado salsa that we love, I’ve been doing this recipe for years. I know it by heart. Tomorrow is my writing group, we are reflecting on the Serenity Prayer. I suggested this prompt, thought it would be a good exercise for the group. 

Stay cool everyone. This heatwave will end soon. Only a few more days to go. That is, until the next one. But we won’t think about that. Signing off from my corner of the globe. Until next time.

Med Tweaks

 So I had a crappy night’s sleep, couldn’t fall asleep til midnight, then up at 5:00 a.m. and unable to go back asleep. Haven’t had one of these disruptions in awhile, so I guess I’ve been fortunate. Pass the coffee, and nicotine gum, and I’ll try to gut through this first day of a 6-day heatwave descending upon the city.

To combat the sedation and muddled feeling I have from the elephant dose of Gabapentin I’ve been taking for my anxiety, Dr. Levy gave me the AOK to reduce my noontime dose down 400 mg. I started that two days ago and I do feel clearer-headed. No fear or panic in the morning, so I’m grateful for that. I’m keeping a close eye on things, which in a way gets tedious and prevents me from just living life; but that’s the thing with crippling anxiety, it debilitates you. 

But fortunately my status right now is the bipolar is under control; the catastrophic thinking has been arrested; I’m managing to keep up with my cooking and some miscellaneous chores. My husband is doing a lot of the chores I let fall by the wayside, so that’s good, we haven’t descended into complete disarray. I continue to devour the romance novels but I’m taking a deviation into more challenging stuff. I’m joining a book club with the gals from my old swim group. 

What’s left to navigate this week is the heatwave; I’ll be staying indoors in the AC and either streaming Netflix or reading. I’m planning on serving cold dishes for dinner, so I’m not slaving over a hot stove. If my life sounds boring it’s because right now it kinda is. It’s safe, it’s predictable, and honestly I like it that way.

Ok that’s it for now, I’m too exhausted to write any more. Stay cool and all that. Later.

Writing Prompt: The Window Box

 Prompt: Describe a person, place or thing that brings you joy.

The Window Box

German Village, where I live, is known for its historical houses and cottages, and cunning gardens, many of them meticulously maintained. Things are a little, err, looser at my place, with our random pots scattered around our patio, filled with an assortment of flowers purchased at Lowe’s every year. 

My husband Michael is the head gardener, he seems to have inherited a green thumb from his parents. I’m more content to be included on the plant purchasing end of things, and then watch Michael pot them; as I sit back on the porch and look at all the color around me. But there is one particular project I insist on doing myself every year: planting the large, green window box in front of our house.

My flower of choice for the window box is the sturdy but gangly wave petunia, which comes in a beautiful assortment of lively colors. This year I went with a combination of purple and white striped ones, and some solid-colored varieties in purple, white and red. I packed them into the box, along with a green trailing vine plant at each corner. I think this is a rather beautiful composition, if I say so myself.

This window box may be the only gardening project I do this summer, and it gives me immense pride. I gaze at the colorful flowers, now thriving, and say I picked those out, I did the planting, I’m watching out for them to ensure they do well this summer. Sure, there are far more elaborate window box displays throughout German Village, but my simple petunia arrangement gives me all the joy I need.

When things get me down, like they have lately, all I need to do is go outside and see the summer symphony of color around me. One can’t help but feel uplifted by the sight. With my window box, I’m a part of the performance. No, I’m no maestro but I do contribute in my own way. Here’s to the healing power of flowers. Thank you, my window box, for bringing me joy.

 

Rehash

 So I’m trying to kickstart my creative juices, I’ve been slogging through numbness and grief for awhile now and I want to move forward. I know I need to come here more and just keep on writing, it doesn’t matter that no one reads it, I need to keep telling my tale of trying to live some semblance of a life with the dual diagnosis of bipolar disorder and alcoholism (in recovery). After all, all I’m left with now is a lot of free time to write. 

I have my monthly meeting with Dr. Levy tomorrow. It will be a rehash of the familiar complaint: meds are perfectly controlling my bipolar with psychotic features and my anxiety, but the side effects are disabling. Fatigue, sedation and lack of motivation, inability to really laugh or cry, no sex drive, poor memory, some difficulty swallowing, just feel like a lump in a recliner with life passing me by.

I’ve been complaining about all this for over two decades it seems, and it’s all because the available medicine to treat my conditions sucks, plain and simple. Are we back to this again, bitching about the meds, it just gets so tiresome. I’m trying to be stoic, accept my situation, but damnit I’m angry. It’s rolling that huge stone up the hill only to have it come crashing back down as you frantically jump out of the way to avoid being crushed.

What am I left to do here? How do I find the strength to keep going forward? I’m trapped, at least it feels that way. I need this medicine yet it’s left me with a life that seems so bleak—at least that’s how it feels this morning. But I have to remember mornings are always difficult for me, things can look dark but they tend to brighten as the day goes on.

Michael is coaxing me to join him on his morning walk with Lily, I want to protest but I think I’m going to join him. I’ve just got to try and break this inertia, some how, some way…this is so fucking hard. But I know I’m not a quitter. I cannot give up. I just wish I didn’t have to contend with these side effects. But alas, it’s what I have to live with. Remember Melissa, things could always be worse. Trudge on, little warrior. 

Troubled Waters

 Troubled Waters

So we have had a second death in our AA family, Dan, Jessica’s husband, took his own life last week down in a hotel room in Mexico. This has severely shaken our sponsorship family, Shawn has lost two sponsees in less than a month. My mornings now are dicey, I’m filled with a mixture of irritability and grief, I’m hating this emotional roller coaster I’m on and I’m wondering if it’s safe for me to get close to people that might one day be suddenly gone.

But I talked with therapist Matt, who pointed out that we are all fucked up in some way, and AA is a comfort for me, provides structure and critical support which I certainly need. So I guess I’ll keep going to meetings, doing AA zooms, and attend my writer’s group on Saturday afternoons. I wonder if others are as screwed up over Dan’s suicide as I am, and I wonder when I will get back to feeling good like I did.

That’s the thing, before these recent deaths last month, I was actually doing so much better, the crippling anxiety was brought under control, thanks to medicine adjustment and eye movement therapy with Matt. I celebrated my 7 year sober anniversary, I successfully attended my 40 year high school reunion, oh, I just felt like I finally had a toe hold in troubled waters.

And now, I’m not so sure.

I’ve been struggling to keep up with my writing, my thoughts are drifting and are a jumbled mess. The best I can do for our writing group this week is this journal entry, I’m hoping that reading it aloud might make me feel better. I guess this is kind of a check in of sorts, just providing a snapshot showing the mess I am these days. 

But let’s look on the bright side, I’ve got lots of support around me, my husband and mom, therapist Matt and psychiatrist Dr. Levy, sponsor Shawn and AA friends. I guess what I do is let the grief move through me, at its own pace, and lean on my supports when I need them. My husband has suggested we go see a movie today, so we are headed out this afternoon. I’m here. I’m alive. Trying to just take things as they come, one day at a time. I guess that’s the best any of us can do.

Morning Musings

 Hello there. So the Celebration of Life yesterday went very well, I went up to the podium in front of 120 people and delivered my piece to rousing applause when I finished. My voice was strong and clear, I was so proud of myself, and amazed that my anxiety was completely controlled. It reminded me of the me of the old days, when I was confident and full of energy, unafraid of public speaking. I’ve come so far, and I credit my doctors, and therapist Matt, and my family, and the sobriety I’ve worked so hard on these past 7 years.

Today I’m calm and relaxed for the most part. I did awake with some mild panic about the cluttered state of my house and the outside, but I managed to set that aside, and just enjoy my coffee. I have plans to pot the annuals we purchased last week, it’s a beautiful day outside today, cooler temperatures that I like. We are grilling Chicken Teriyaki tonight, it’s been marinating in the fridge overnight and smells wonderful.

So I am gardening today, tomorrow I have therapy then I’m having dinner out with some friends from high school. Thursday I meet with sponsor Shawn to reflect back on the Celebration of Life, and continue my work on the AA Steps. I hope to continue to chip away at my household chores, and maybe start walking again in the morning. I know Matt will be prodding me to get active, and Michael is on me every day to increase my step count. I need to press myself more.

All in all, I feel better than I have in ages. Progress has been made. I still need to do some more ART sessions with Matt, specifically I have great anxiety driving on highways, which was made worse by an experience I had driving in manic psychosis during my last episode in 2022-2023. I know Matt can help me, and I’m sincerely grateful I found him. 

Ok, time to get going with the planting. Onward I go. It’s great to be sane and sober. Hooray!

Jessica Celebration of Life

This month we lost a beloved member of our AA family, dearest Jessica M. Beautiful and newly-married to Dan, Jess was solid in her AA program, a loving mother to two boys, and successful in her work. She touched many people in the recovery community, evidenced by the number of people gathered tonight to celebrate her. She certainly impacted me, and I’m honored for the chance to tell you what she meant to me.

I knew Jessica for three years, she was initially referred to me by sponsor Shawn when I got up the courage to meet him for the first time at a Starbucks on S. High Street, just outside of German Village. When I confided to Shawn that day that I was contending with a dual diagnosis of alcoholism and bipolar disorder, he suggested I get in touch with a close friend of his, Jessica, who had the same diagnosis.

That night, I reached out to Jessica and we spent a good hour sharing information about ourselves. I felt an instant connection to her, and it was such a great relief and blessing to be able to talk about the sometimes intense struggles one encounters when trying to manage substance abuse recovery and a mental health condition. I told Jess I had spent years feeling ashamed of my bipolar disorder, and that my active alcoholism only worsened my mental health and hastened my arrival at rock bottom. She responded with some of her own experiences, which comforted me because I knew I was not alone.

Knowing how challenging it is to manage a dual diagnosis, to put it candidly, I was in awe of Jessica. She often talked of experiencing homelessness and for a time losing custody of her children, yet regaining her footing through sobriety and the Steps, sponsorship, and regularly attending both AA and Alanon meetings. Jess navigated dual diagnosis recovery, plus childrearing, plus a challenging job and marriage. That’s a whole heck of a lot. And she gave it her all. 

Jessica was often invited to tell her story at Speaker meetings, where she freely gave the gift of her calming strength to those listening. That was the thing about Jess. When she spoke, you listened. Not everyone can command that kind of attention. I’d like to think of it as a special gift she had, though there was a lot of hard work she put into her AA program that shined through every time she spoke. How many people did she touch? Many.

I would come to find out that Jess offered safe harbor and counsel to many people in our AA community dealing with a dual diagnosis. She was our kindred spirit, she walked in our shoes, she even went out of her way to make referrals for outside help if that was requested. I’m here because of her wisdom and guidance, and my sobriety is stronger because of it. No one can question Jess’ commitment to AA and her AA family. Jess was dedicated. And that’s something all of us should emulate.

The parting words I have for Jess tonight are simple: Rest easy now, dear angel. Your work here is done. We miss you, our friend and confidant. And we are sincerely grateful to have known you for the time we did.

An Update

So it’s Memorial Day Weekend, 2024, and I’ve recently turned 58. I report I am feeling good, bipolar and anxiety are under control so I certainly cannot complain. I’m a finely medicated machine I guess, plus I’ve got a good therapist Matt who is gently shepherding me along. Stress is low, sleep is great. Marriage is solid, sobriety is firmly in place. Is this the AA Promises coming true? 

Speaking of AA, on Monday we are holding the Celebration of Life recovery meeting for Jessica. I have written the piece Shawn wants me to read, discussing my dual diagnosis of alcoholism and bipolar (which Jess had as well). There will be four of us speaking, I’m kinda nervous, Shawn said he is expecting between 75-100 people there. But I’ve been rehearsing my piece, which isn’t too long, so I should be ready.

I’ve completely given up on my morning walking, it’s been hot outside and I don’t tolerate the heat well. I’m mad at myself, I’m back at square one, sitting in this stupid brown recliner all day. Michael keeps at me to increase my step count, Dr. Levy keeps prodding me to join a pool, and I just ignore them both. Is it the meds or am I just a really, really lazy person? I’ve never thought of myself as lazy, I shudder at that label. No, I’m pointing to the 4,000 mg/day of Gabapentin I take for the anxiety plus the 4 mg/day of Risperdal. That’s an elephant tranquilizing dose. It’s no wonder I’m a sedated lump.

I’m keeping up with my cooking, but it’s harder executing things. I’m tempted to slightly dial back some of the Gabapentin but when I tried that before, things went downhill. So I’ll just continue to fumble my way through things as best I can, accepting that these side effects are the trade off for being able to stay stable and sane. 

So aside from the disabling meds, I guess everything is ok. I have a roof over my head, food in the fridge, my family is healthy. The psychotic manic episodes are a thing of the past—for now—and the depressive episodes haven’t bothered me in years. That’s something to be grateful for and I don’t take that lightly. I’m very lucky, I know that. Good things are coming. One day at a time.

A Loved One Lost

 This past week we lost a beloved member of our AA family, dearest Jessica passed away, from an overdose. She was only in her 40s, a beautiful newly-married woman, solid it appeared in her AA program and seemingly successful in her work. I’m left feeling heartbroken, and thinking about her husband Dan and her two young sons by another marriage.

I knew Jessica Dallas for three years, she was first referred to me by sponsor Shawn when I got up the courage to first meet him at a Starbucks on S. High Street, just outside of German Village. When I confided to him that day that I was contending with a dual diagnosis of alcoholism and bipolar disorder, he suggested I get in touch with a close friend of his, Jessica, who had the same diagnosis.

That night, I reached out to Jessica via text, and we spent a good hour sharing information about ourselves. I remember her saying not to share information about my bipolar in the rooms because people gossip—and I kept it to myself that I didn’t agree, I feel it’s important to bring my diagnosis out of the closet so I don’t feel shame anymore for something that isn’t my fault. I feel kinda guilty sharing that Jess had bipolar, maybe she didn’t want anyone to know, am I betraying her confidence by discussing it? Yet I want to talk about it, as if it will help me understand why Jess is gone now…yet I’m still here.

I got to know Jessica better through countless Monday night zooms over the years, through holiday gatherings at Shawn’s place, and the Sunday night German Village AA meeting I Zoom or sometimes attend in person. Jess was full of wisdom, appeared to be rocking her program, she talked of overcoming homelessness and for a time losing custody of her children, only to regain her footing through sobriety and the Steps and sponsorship, and attending both AA and Alanon meetings. She was often invited to tell her story at Speaker meetings, I never heard her lead, but I’m sure it was great.

At times, I was kinda jealous of beautiful Jess, she was just always so wise in her comments on our Monday night Zoom, whereas I mostly mumble in a med-induced haze, probably making no sense whatsoever. I’m having a hard time fathoming that she won’t be there anymore, it just feels all wrong, and there’s now a gaping hole in our tight knit sponsorship family. 

Why did this happen? Could it have been prevented? I’m left with these questions that want answers. The longer the questions I have go unanswered the more frustrated I get. I feel selfish, like I’m entitled to know all the details of this tragic event. I don’t understand why I get so obsessed with wanting to know, it’s really juvenile, immature, unbecoming. 

This whole thing was just so unexpected. At least I never saw it coming. Yet I know how challenging managing a dual diagnosis is, and you add on childrearing and a job and it can just be too much. Oh Jess, you always seemed so strong. Rest easy now, dear angel. I mourn you, my friend and confidant. And I’m grateful to have known you for the time I did.

A Death: Where, How, Why?

 So Shawn dropped a bombshell text yesterday that Jessica from our AA sponsee family has passed, but there was no mention as to how or why. I’m left feeling utterly confused and frustrated, trying to get Shawn to call me with more information, but my phone is silent.

Jessica had the dual diagnosis like me of alcoholism and bipolar, and I’m wondering if this 40-something year old is gone because of suicide or overdose, or was it something different, like a cardiac event? She seemed so solid in her AA program, stable, for the most part. I do know she was fighting for custody back of her teenage son, and she was recently hospitalized last weekend, but I don’t know if that meant a psych ward or what.

I guess I’m just feeling like there is a huge hole now in our sponsorship family, and I’m left with these questions that want answers. Shawn has left me hanging, I feel like he’s not reliable or maybe stretched too thin to meet all his obligations. I feel stuck this afternoon, I can’t move forward with projects, I’m just sitting here trapped in my recliner ruminating over this unexpected death of someone I was fond of.

The longer the questions I have go unanswered the angrier I get. I feel selfish, like I’m entitled to know all the details of this tragic event, not get blown off because I’m irrelevant when others are grieving at the same time I am. I don’t understand why I get so obsessed with wanting to know, it’s really juvenile, immature, unbecoming. 

I should just be practicing patience, eventually I will come to know why and how Jess died. I need to accept that I’m not as important as I think I am, at least in certain situations. This whole thing just was so unexpected. At least for me. And that’s difficult for me to process. Jess is gone. It feels unreal.

Writing Prompt: An Open Letter To My Anxiety

 Prompt: Write a letter to your anxiety and tell it it’s not needed anymore.

An Open Letter To My Anxiety

Hey anxiety, I’ve got a message for you: Fuck off.

For decades you have plagued me, driving me to alcohol and weed to manage you. What a disaster that was. I’ve been in countless therapists’ offices trying to analyze you and mitigate your damage, making only minimal progress with no real relief. I’ve knocked on psychiatrists’ doors, begging for medication to blunt your ferocious attacks. And I’ve been in support groups, commiserating with other souls tormented by you.

Anxiety, you’ve caused enough damage. It’s time for you to go.

I’m wondering if you’ve hung around so long because I’ve wrapped you up in my identity. Oh look at me, I’m anxious mess Melissa, master of catastrophic mind-fuckery. I’ve clung to you because you’re so familiar, wake up in the morning, grab coffee then worry, ready, set, go. What, pray tell, might I be able to accomplish if I chuck you out of my life, perhaps I’m scared to find out?

Anxiety, there’s no room in my life anymore for you. Please leave.

In February I found a new therapist, Matt, who has been doing eye movement therapy on you and I’m seeing great improvement. My morning catastrophizing has been almost completely nipped in the bud, and I’m feeling driven to get out of the house and just move, just start experiencing life like a normal person. Kudos to me for doing this work, I moved into action to break free of your hold. You will not monopolize my time anymore, I hit rock bottom with you, and I’m done.

Anxiety, I’m now moving into action. You can’t hold me back anymore.

This month I turn 58. I’m blessed to be retired, finances under control, joined by my husband Michael and Basset Hound Lily in a simple, mostly predictable life. I am safe, I am secure, anxiety I won’t let you interfere with my happiness anymore, I won’t let you disrupt my peace and serenity I am trying to architect. I have a say in how the rest of my life plays out, I play a part in the narrative.

Anxiety, I’m drafting the story of this next chapter of my life. I’m writing you out of the script.

Goodbye to you, anxiety. I certainly won’t miss you. I don’t need you, I’ve never needed you, I’m not living in the wilderness needing “fight or flight” to protect me from a scary tiger. I’m letting go, my Higher Power has got things. Deep breath. I’m going to be OK.

A Reunion Weekend

So I just had my 40th high school reunion, I attended most of the activities, a true accomplishment considering in years past I was crippled with so much anxiety that I couldn’t budge from my recliner. This time I felt comfortable and relaxed, I’m not sure whether I credit the increase in the Gabapentin or the ART therapy sessions but whatever, I breezed through the weekend. 

We had a cocktail party and food at an event space Friday night; a brunch at Lindey’s Saturday at noon; and a dinner at Katie’s house Saturday night. The only thing I didn’t like were lots of pictures were taken and my weight gain is glaringly apparent—I’m driven to try and embark again on a diet to drop another 30  lbs. The only thing holding me back is that knowledge that each and every time I have tried to lose weight I ended up destabilizing and ultimately hospitalized. I don’t know why this has been the case, no one will tell me. Does anyone know? Probably not.

But weight aside, it was great reconnecting with old friends, talking about old times and catching up on what was going on with everyone today. I didn’t feel any pressure to be some gung ho career woman, instead I felt at ease with my life I have today as a housewife and someone who spends the majority of their time managing their mental health. I talked about my journey with a few people, but most already know my story from listening to the podcast I did during the pandemic detailing my dual diagnosis of alcoholism and bipolar disorder.

All in all, it was a great weekend. I’m tired, here on this Monday morning. I’m gonna try to do some laundry today, get the sheets changed, and winter clothes put away now that warmer temps are here. It’s very hard doing chores, I don’t know if that’s my meds or a sign that I may perhaps have a more serious situation like schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type? I tried Googling that and the available information is confusing. I’m going to ask Dr. Levy for clarification, perhaps he knows what my correct diagnosis is.

Ok, that’s it for now, gonna motivate and get some things done. Life is good right now. Later!

Writing Prompt: Total Eclipse of the Sun (One Minute, 54 Seconds)

 Prompt: Write about the solar eclipse on April 8, 2024.

One Minute, 54 Seconds

“We cannot miss this,” my husband had been telling me for months, “It’s gonna be wild.” He was speaking about the solar eclipse coming to Ohio, and his excitement about it was palpable. He had ordered those safety eclipse viewing glasses way in advance, kept speaking about “the path of totality” and how we would probably have to drive up north and pitch a tent on some farm in the middle of nowhere to get optimal viewing. I shuddered at the thought.

But as the days drew closer to April 8, I found myself taking more of an interest in this event that was to unfold. My niece up in Sunbury, Ohio, a small town about 30 minutes from us, let us know that her town was in the path of totality for two minutes, and invited us up to her home to watch the eclipse with her family. The nightly news shows were stoking the excitement, talking about loads of people traveling to our state to witness this spectacle. Would the weather cooperate for optimal viewing? Who knew?

We woke up early on the sunny day of the eclipse, and my husband went to Buckeye Doughnuts to buy a boxful for everyone up at my niece’s place. We loaded our camping chairs and Basset Hound Lily into the car and hopped on I-71 north for the relatively easy drive to Sunbury. Down a winding country road we went to her house, tucked back from the road with a trampoline for the kids out front, and a 1/2 acre grassy backyard enclosed by faded white fencing. It was 11:00 am when we arrived, my husband had insisted we arrive early, and we certainly had time to kill before the total solar eclipse at 3:12 pm.

We had a gorgeous day for an eclipse, with blue skies and only thin, wispy clouds in the sky. Around 2:00 pm, my husband set our two camping chairs up in the backyard, and we donned our eclipse glasses and cautiously looked up at the sun. It looked like a very small, dark orange orb, maybe a 1/2 inch in diameter, maybe smaller. Much smaller than I expected it to be. The moon was starting to eclipse it, casting black darkness across the orange orb.

I remember initially feeling very uneasy looking up at sun, even though I was protected by the dark eclipse glasses. I was doing something I never, ever do, and I was fearful of harming my eyes in some way. I kept looking back down, removing the glasses, and checking to see that my eyesight was ok. It was. As we approached 3:00 pm, the temps, which had been in the low 70s, started to slowly drop. I quickly ran inside to retrieve my long-sleeve shirt, then rejoined my husband outside. We were alone in the backyard with Lily and my niece’s dog Gus, who were both starting to bark. My niece and her family were in the front of the house.

At 3:06 pm, my husband started a video on his iPhone, recording us talking about what we were experiencing, above the clatter of two dogs barking in the background. It was really starting to get dark, and much colder, and the eclipse of the orange orb was almost complete. When we hit 3:12 pm, you can hear me asking my husband tentatively if it’s safe for me to remove my glasses and look up, there’s a little fear in my voice, and he says yes, but we only have 1 minute, 54 seconds of safe viewing.

Then I say, “Wow. Wow! It’s crazy!” before the recording stops. 

I can only describe it as a surreal sight of a black orb in the sky surrounded by a white, eerie halo of light. We had a 360 degree view of a dark sunset, with two barking dogs running around. I was ever-cautious of the time, and kept looking back and forth from the sky to my iPhone in my lap. Everything felt, well, beautiful, unique, awesome? I felt like I was experiencing something profound I might never experience again; suddenly I felt the weight of my age, and gratitude that I was with my husband, experiencing this together. In a backyard in Sunbury, Ohio, with a farm behind us, and little kids bouncing on a trampoline and squealing in the distance.

We only had 1 minute, 54 seconds of viewing a total solar eclipse with the naked eye, and although brief, the sight is etched in my memory forever. Already my husband is planning on somehow getting us to Egypt in 2027 to see 7 minutes of totality out in the sandy dunes, I’m wondering if we can indeed make it there. I guess that’s the thing with being lucky to see a total solar eclipse, you immediately want to see another one…(to be continued)

Back on Track!

 Yay, so I’m back to taking my anxiety medication as prescribed, and I’ve been successfully going to bed by 10:30 every night, waking up between 8-9 am. And guess what, I’ve even pried myself out of the recliner before lunch and gotten dressed and gone for a walk! I promised Dr. Levy and Matt that I would commit to moving in the morning, and here I am keeping true to my word. I’m so, so proud of myself!

Next up is to spend my early afternoons straightening up the house and yes, doing some cleaning too. I’m remembering it’s baby steps, but I’ve got Matt encouraging me, and mom and Michael too. I’m taking responsibility for breaking this inertia that has plagued me for 7 years. I’m not sure what is responsible for this change, maybe it’s new therapist Matt and the ART sessions, maybe my med cocktail is finally correct? Who knows, maybe it’s me saying enough is enough, kinda like I hit a rock bottom and couldn’t take the pain anymore.

I just keep thinking back to that conversation with friend Alison months ago when she asked me, “What do you do all day?” And I was at a loss for words, feeling a great sense of shame, knowing that I wasn’t really doing much of anything. Sure, my meds suck, and hinder me a great deal. But I am a fighter, a survivor, and I’m going to push through this sedentary shit and just do something!

So I’ve done my morning walk, next up is brunch and then my writing group at 1:00. Then a walk again with Lily, and for dinner I’m making Chicken Shwarma with yogurt sauce. The sun is out today, it’s spring but still a little cool outside. In two days is the Solar Eclipse, we are going to niece Alexa’s house to see it. I’m stable, sane, I’m grateful for that. 

That’s all for today. One foot in front of the other. I got this!