Which is easier?

I often ask for blog topic suggestions.  Hey, if you're gonna write 365 posts in a year, eventually you run out of good ideas on your own.  (If you have a suggestion for a post that you'd like to hear my take on, please feel free to let me know.)

Why the flower? Well, I could give you some
bullshit answer about how the flower represents
the optimism of early sobriety, but actually
it's because I liked the picture and it's my
damn blog.  So there.

I was asked whether I thought whether it gets easier.  Whether the beginning was the hardest.

I've been thinking about the question for awhile. 


In a lot of ways, it's quantifiably easier after the first year mark.  I remember reading somewhere that the relapse rate is 85% in the first year and it drops to something like 10% after that.  So, apparently, time's got something going for it. 

But I wonder if it might not be easier (after the initial couple of months where you're just trying to hang on by your fingernails some days...) in the early days of sobriety.  When you finally "get" the program, you have this pink cloud thing where you think that the world is great... that life is so much rosier... that you love everyone.

Baby Steps

Sometimes, even now, I find myself in a situation where I'm afraid to do something.  To move forward.  To do what has to be done in order to get to the next place. 

Yes, this is my 18 month old...
Just putting one foot in front
of the other...

I read somewhere that in order to be who you are going to be, you have to give up who you are now. 

That's terrifying to me.  Partially because I'm an addict (and, as I've mentioned before, we HATE change)...

But partially also because the devil that I know (even if I don't like her) is better than diving into the abyss without a parachute.

I like to think of myself as brave.  And I am.  About pretty much everything.  I've pulled up my big girl pants so many times that I think I've snapped the elastic.

Fool me once...

The old saying goes, "Fool me once shame on you... Fool me twice, shame on me."

I hate being played for a fool.

I particularly don't like it when people that I neither like nor respect play me.

Here's the thing about that...

I'm not bragging when I say that I'm not just book smart.  I have quite a bit of street smarts (I'm not sure I'd have been able to survive my life so far if I didn't....)

So, it leaves me to wonder...

Why do I keep getting played? 

Sunday Sweets -- Chocolate Pecan Pie

For Thanksgiving this week, I fixed Pumpkin Bread, M&M cake (which is the chocolate cake recipe from the eyeball cupcakes in large cake form -- picture here) and Chocolate Pecan Pie.

In the interest of complete honesty, this is NOT a
picture of my pecan pie.  I forgot to get a pic...
**sheepish grin**

This is another one of those "looks more impressive than it actually is" recipes.  It does have to be made the night before (and don't wait until too late at night since it has an especially long cooking time)....

You can use a homemade pie crust for this one, but it doesn't really make all that much difference.... I use both (well either), depending on how much time I have...

Burning the candle

You often hear about people burning the candle at both ends.  As a single mom of three kids under 7, I'm definitely guilty. 

I have a tendency to take too much on my shoulders and to plow through it until it's done.

I sleep very little.

It tends to make me cranky.

Cranky with my kids.

Cranky with my friends.

And it magnifies what might otherwise be minor problems.

Problems like when my 18 month old wakes up at 4:45 in the morning.... Or when I can't find my son's shoes...

I find myself yelling too much. And that's not who I am. It's not who I want to be. So, it's up to me to change it.

I have to find a better way to handle all that I have to do.  I need to do it so that my kids don't have memories of a stressed out, overworked, overwrought mom.  I want their childhood memories to be of having fun. 

Of laughing and playing...

And that's one more thing I'm willing to take on to make it happen.

How do you get everything done and still have time to be a fun parent?  I'm open to suggestions...

Just Keep Coming Back

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I like things that have an end.

I don't know whether it's a trait of addicts or not, but (like the title of the post says) I like things that have an actual end.

Dontcha hate it when you can't get the
door to stay closed?

It's often said that when one door closes another one opens, but it's a bitch standing in the hallway.  That's very true. 

What's even more annoying though is when you can see the hallway, you know the hallway is coming but you can't manage to shut the damned door behind you so you can move to the next door.

I like action.

I like movement. 

And, being an addict, I want it NOW!

In all fairness, I've been reasonably patient... for almost 2 years... But it's starting to wear me thin.

I'm so close to shutting the door.  It's like I'm able to close the door but can't get that little latchy thing (what are they called anyway?) to catch so the door stays shut.

Every time I close the door, it doesn't latch and pops right back to ajar again. 

I know it'll close.  I know it'll close soon, even. 

I'm just tired of the struggle to get the door to shut. 

Maybe duct tape.... Duct tape can fix anything, right?

Just Keep Coming Back

If you like what you've read, find a way to follow Being Anonymous... Click on the buttons in the top right corner to follow us on Twitter, "like" our FB Fan page, join our RSS feed... Y'know, whatever works for you.

Are you a pooper?

First off, you'll be pleased to know that this post has absolutely nothing to do with poop. 

Thanksgiving M&M cake... Yes, I know I'm compulsive...

Though I do reserve the right to use scatological humor throughout because I think it's funny.  And it's my party. 

I've noticed this about addicts.  Particularly ones in early sobriety. 

They're so scared shitless (see, here I go) of falling off of the wagon, that they become complete party poopers over the holidays.  They've got a stick so far up their butts (and again...) that they're not even pleasant to be around...

And they crap all over everyone else's day....

(Ok, I think there's probably a program for this.... Wise Asses Anonymous... We'll call it WAAAAaaaaa!!!!  Sorry.  Shiny....)

Roller Coaster Holidays

What I am eternally thankful for...

I love holidays. 

Festivities make me smile.  (By the end of December, Christmas carols make me want to put a gun barrel in my mouth, but that's another story for another day....)

But, like anything else that marks the passage of time in my life, it also makes me sad.

And lonely.

And guilty.

And although families can push your buttons (see yesterday's post), it makes me sad that I don't get to have the big family Thanksgivings that I had growing up. 

For me, Thanksgiving is all about family.

Welcome to the Nut House

Insanity runs in families. 

In the spirit of the holiday, I won't call this animal
what I usually call him... I'll just say, "Aw, look at the squirrel."

Not literally (though that too, now that I think of it)....

Being around your family can turn an ordinarily sane person into a utterly raving lunatic. 

Enter the holiday season....

And since that's the case, you can imagine what it does to a fruitcake like me (Get it?  Fruitcake?  Holidays?  Sigh....)?  It's fun to watch, I assure you... And I adore my family....

The Compulsion.

Feeling stuff sucks.  I'm just saying....

Ah, yes... My drug of choice....

We all have our ways of dealing with pain, with sorrow, with uncomfortable situations. 

I drank. 

But lots of people drink.  Doesn't make them all addicts.

I firmly believe that I was born with the personality that makes me an addict.  Without it, I'd have been able to drink like a damn fish.

Ok, well, I DID drink like a fish.  And then I forgot where the hell I was and how I got home a lot.... Thus, the problem.

But I digress...

I think that a lot of people confuse drinking heavily, even drinking with the purpose of forgetting, with actually being an alcoholic.

They're not the same thing. 

Sunday Sweets - Key Lime Pie

We're coming up on the Thanksgiving holiday and I'm doing a ton of baking this week (come back next Sunday for my chocolate pecan pie recipe). 

Time to break out the Graham
Cracker Crumbs again...

So, I decided to share a recipe (which, although it's too early in the week for me to make, thus the lack of picture) for the easiest made from scratch pie EVER.  Three ingredients in the crust, three in the filling and some Cool Whip. Ta DA!

It's also one of those things that you can whip together in a matter of 15 minutes and everyone is impressed.  No matter how bad a baker you think you are... You CAN do this.  I promise.

I know that Key Lime is an odd choice, but I was raised in South Florida (Yes, I'm a native Floridian) and so this is a staple of Thanksgiving at my house.  (And you'll learn something important about key lime pie.  It's yellow, not green.  If someone ever tries to serve you green key lime pie, don't eat it.... Yuck!)

Getting outside of yourself

I've had a pretty shitty week. 

No, really. 

Have you stopped whining about
your own problems and
helped someone else yet?

Don't get me wrong... I have pretty good health, great kids and a roof over my head... I'm still sober.... So, of course, things could get a whole lot worse...

But that doesn't change the fact that sometimes I still have a shitty week.

I've been trying to finish something that is terribly emotionally, financially and spiritually taxing... For almost 2 YEARS...

The difference between a turnip and a moral compass....

I don't know how else to say this, but...

What the fuck is the matter with people?

Oh, probably I should mention right now that this is gonna be one of those posts where if you don't like swearing that you should come back tomorrow....  [waving]

I get that not everyone shares my moral compass.  I get that I'm not the world's arbiter of right and wrong.  I never signed up for the god job and I don't want the damn thing. 

That said... I have no words to express my current disgust with humanity. 

Knowing what you REALLY want.

Stripey and cute, but it's never gonna
be a tiger....

[rant]

I don't know why people think that if you say you want one thing and actually want another, that you're ever going to be able to find what it is you say you want or be happy with it when you finally do find what you say you want.

Now that I read that sentence, it sounds confusing.  Even to me and I wrote the damn thing.  But let me see if I can explain.

Let's say that I really want a pet tiger.  Well, not today, but eventually....

But right now I just want a kitty cat.  At least that's what I'm telling people.... And I think I've almost convinced myself that I'm ok with having a kitty cat. 

I mean it's way less work than a tiger.  Wouldn't you say so?

Even the size of the poop makes a huge difference... I mean, where do you get a litter box large enough?

Sorry, shiny object....

The secret to life.

Damn, I like that title. 

You ready?

Wow! This sounds it's really going to be a really important post.  And maybe it will.  I hope so, but I'm never quite sure how a post is going to turn out until I'm at the end. 

And I'm only just writing it now.... So, I guess we'll all have to wait and see how it ends up...

Bear with me...

I want to talk about this character flaw that I have.  I've been talking about it with my sponsor for... well, let's be honest... probably for years.

What I've got, I've paid for...

Today's rant will be brought to you by the letter A and the number 21...

It cost me a lot more than a
 pile of money...

Look, I didn't get to sobriety by accident... Well, that's not entirely true... I kind of did.... Not sobriety, but my first AA meeting for sure... But that's a story for a different day.

And, besides, that's not my point. 

This post is for all of you who may be (or know someone who is) a young addict.  It's a tough road.  You may think that you haven't had enough experience to know whether you're an addict or not.  Maybe it's a phase...

It's not.

Imprisoned.

Ok, this is going to be one of those posts where I'm going try, to the best of my ability, to explain something about addicts.  It may be very hard for those of you who are here trying to understand the addict in your life to read and digest.

On the other hand, all of the addicts who read this ([waving hand] Hi guys!) are going understand it immediately. 

And they don't even need the razor wire...

But even if it's hard to really understand, try.  It really will help you to understand what's going on in an addict's mind. 

Don't try to bend the spoon.  Just go with it... (and, yes, I know that I'm a HUGE dork...)

I was having a conversation with my mom the other day.  She's not an addict but she's been on painkillers after major back surgery for about the past month.  She's not happy about it at all.  It has, however, made for some interesting conversations.

Sunday Sweets -- Lemon scented sugar cookies

Ok, they're prettier in person... And tastier...

Ok, it's cookie time. The problem with most sugar cookies is that they don't have much flavor if they don't have sugar sprinkled on the top (or they're frosted).  I'm not saying that you can't do all of that with these.  I'm saying that you don't have to.  I like them just plain.  They're awesome with a cup of coffee

Also, most sugar cookies tend to be dry, crumbly or hard.  These are soft and chewy.  Even days later...

And they're super easy.  I'll show you...

How deep is your skin?

I've been thinking about something.  I guess that it's best defined as vanity. 

Why is it that women actually put themselves through what we put ourselves through to look the way that we want?

I used to think that it was because we wanted to look a certain way so that men would be interested.  And that's at least partially true.  Men are, without question, visual creatures. 

It's not a bad thing.  It's just how it is.

But let's be honest.  Men don't care if you're skinny.  In fact, most of the men I know would prefer to have women be soft (I'm not saying obese. But my mental obsession with how having babies (and 3 C-sections) has ruined my midsection might be overblown...)

Pet peeve #42

I was just going to title this post, "Pet Peeve."  But, truth be told, I have a bunch of them.  (I've always been fond of pets.) 

The one that's driving me up the wall today is people who have a malleable relationship with time.

I'm writing this post at 11pm.  I was supposed to receive something from someone over 14 hours ago.  And I've been simmering about it all day.

I almost NEVER lose my temper.  I have a seriously long fuse.  But I'm getting there.  I'm getting there quite rapidly at this point. 

Here's why....

Effing with my focus...

I'm a woman (for those of you who are blind or haven't otherwise been paying attention).  So, I feel myself qualified to talk about some things that are common to all women.

One of these that baffles men to no end is our ability to do a million things at once (ok, it's probably not a MILLION, but it certainly seems that way sometimes).  Men just can't do this. 

They do, however, find this endlessly fascinating. 

As I've told male friends of mine, multitasking comes with the vagina.  (It's like the absurd and nearly pathological need to have a million pillows on the bed.)

I don't know why we do it.  I just know that we do. 

Interestingly, we don't understand why men can't multitask as well as we can.  It baffles us.  And we find it frustrating. 

We expect that men should be able to do what we can do.  I mean, men run the world, right?  (I'd argue that myself, but I get where people say that.)

But what we have in the ability to multitask, we sometimes lack in focus. 

Easier to believe

I have this theory about addicts.  (Ok, who are we kidding?  I have LOTS of theories about addicts.)

Anyway...

This theory has to do with addicts and survivors of abuse.  I've said it before, but I can tell you that the similarities are striking (no pun intended)....

It's hard to believe the good stuff about yourself
when your image is shattered.

There's something about being abused that shatters a piece of you.

A piece down deep inside.  I'm not sure that it can ever be put back together.

Addicts are no less abused than the person who is belittled and berated by a spouse for years and years.  The problem for us is that we don't recognize it easily because we're abused by our -ism... By the Committee. 

And it shatters us too.

Opinions are like assholes

Yeah, today's gonna be another one of those days for y'all who have a problem with my propensity for using colorful language (also known as swearing) to take a day off...  If you get a resentment over it, I suggest you take it up with your sponsor, your spiritual confessor and/or your higher power of choice.

It won't surprise any of you that know my
sense of humor that I thought about finding a picture
of an asshole, but I thought that might be taking the
joke a little too far... even for me.

But I still love you.  I promise.

Just come back tomorrow, ok?

[tapping fingers on desk and whistling]

Hmmm.... No.  Really.  It's time for you to go now.  See ya later....

[standing on tippy toes to make sure that they're gone]

Oh good.  They're gone. 

Taking the high road...

I find myself at a point in my life where I have spent a long time in conflict.  Years.  Years upon years.

We all walk a fine line...

And, although it might suprise you because of my profession, I hate conflict. 

I've said it before, but I've allowed myself to be treated badly.  Maybe even abused.

My one comfort in my situation is that I've always taken the high road.  I have maintained my dignity through all of it.  I can sleep at night with most of the decisions that I've made.

I've often been encouraged in my ongoing conflict to sling mud at the other person involved.  To stoop to their level.  To use all the ammunition that I have to even the playing field. 

Sunday Sweets... Pumpkin Bread...

Are you feeling Thanksgiving coming?  It's right around the corner... No. Really. Watch....

Yummy!

You're gonna blink and find yourself there... 
This week I decided it was time to break out one of my mom's family Thanksgiving traditions.  We bake three different kinds of bread for the holiday... Banana bread, Pumpkin bread and Cranberry Orange bread.

The thing that's unique about this recipe is that it makes three loaves (which, in my house, means one for the fridge, one for the freezer and one to give to someone we love...).

This one is another great breakfast bread.  My kids love it heated up before school every day...

Charity begins at home

Ok, I know that this has nothing to do with living sober... Well, maybe it does...

Part of staying sober is getting out of your own head and focusing on helping others.  So,  that's what I'm doing today.

Today, my kids and I are participating in a walk-a-thon.  Don't roll your eyes with that "another walk-a-thon" sigh.  Stick with me a second.  The background is important...

In our community, there is a little boy named John Hudson Dilgen.  He's 9.  He's in my sons' Cub Scout troop and goes to their elementary school.  He's a sweet little boy.  Unfortunately, he's got a horrible skin thing (can you tell I went to law school, not med school?)...

Now that I think of it, let me post the information about his condition that prompted this walk-a-thon...

John Hudson Dilgen is 9 years old and suffers from a rare genetic skin disease called
Recessive Dystrophic Epidermolysis Bullosa, or RDEB. It is one of the more severe forms of
EB. EB is caused by a lack of anchoring fibrils, the velcro which holds the top layer of skin
(epidermis) to the layer below (dermis). John Hudson’s skin is fragile and has wounds
similar to second and third degree burns over most of his body, both internally and
externally. Blisters affect his eyes, mouth, esophagus and his internal organs and he has
difficulty eating and swallowing. John Hudson is bandaged from head to toe daily,
including soaking in either bleach or vinegar, followed by medications. He makes routine
trips to Cincinnati Children's Hospital where his esophagus is often dilated due to closure
from blisters. His other medical care is also coordinated there.

Most children with John Hudson’s severe form of EB eventually succumb to anemia, failure to thrive and infection. Those who live longer usually succumb to squamous cell carcinoma. EB is not contagious and there is currently no cure.

Most recently, the wounds on his feet have been so bad he has not been able to walk for days and weeks at a time. He has to be carried to bed, the bathroom, and to the car. The pain is unbearable for him and so sad to watch. He continues to have episodes of erosions in his corneas, which leave him unable to see and in excruciating pain.

So, what we're doing as a community is getting together to help his family purchase a handicapped accessible vehicle for him that will accommodate his electric wheelchair.  If you're interested in knowing more about him and his condition (or making a donation to help), you can visit his family's website (http://www.johnhudsondilgen.com/).

What have you done for someone else lately?

Just Keep Coming Back

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You can't have it all...

I don't know about you, but my mom always told me that I could do anything I put my mind to.  That if I worked hard and gave it my all, that I would succeed.

And it always irritated me that they
wrote it in red...

That I could have "it all". 

Ugly Truth: You CAN'T have it all. You can't do everything at 100% and be successful at everything. Something's got to give. (In my case, housework is the first thing to go...)

The simple truth is that she lied. 

Don't get your panties in a wad.  I'm sure she didn't mean to.

I think that she's a product of coming of age in the 60's.  She saw women's lib start to come to fruition... And she wanted that for her daughter.

But I just can't do it.

Sometimes they're just not ready

I got asked by one of my Twitter followers to discuss my opinion on how to handle people who ask for advice and refuse to accept the advice you're giving.

Let it go....

Listen...

Not everyone's ready to hear what they need to hear. 

Truth told, some people are never ready.

You can't control how they take your advice.  You can only control how you handle it.

Really, when someone who I know is going to be resistant to the truth (Or at least my take on it.... shocking as it is, my take on the truth is sometimes colored by my own opinions...Stop laughing.), I find that I have to use one of two tactics.

I ain't no quitter...

In my case, I'm obviously not talking about quitting drinking.  I can do that.  Well, to be more accurate, I have done that.

Feel free to copy this to send to your
own personal lost causes...

My problem is knowing when to give up on something... A person... A relationship... An idea....A project... A dream...

My mom tells me all the time (or at least she used to until I told her to stop) that I have a tendency to pick up strays.  That I'm the patron saint of lost causes (which is interesting on so many levels... Not the least of which is that I grew up Jewish)...

Hope springs eternal...

Sugar hangover....

I've said it before and I'll say it again.  Alcohol addiction is closely related to sugar addiction. 

Is it just me, or does it look like there's someone
buried under all that candy? 

When a person first gets sober, part of the cravings that they experience are sugar cravings.  I even tell my pigeons to carry a candy bar with them in case they start to have alcohol cravings.

That said, sugar is definately it's own addiction.

And it's a nasty one.