A day in the life of a not so typical 23 year old woman...

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Blades of Surrender

I am just sitting down from finishing some yard work outside. What a beautiful past few days we have had here in Minnesota. Sunny, 60's, light breeze. It is the time of year where Midwesterners are optimistic, productive and energized; sucking every breath out of nice weather that we can before heading into the 5 month frozen tundra.

When things in my life aren't really busy I tend to get a bit stir crazy. I finished work relatively early yesterday and attempted to tackle my to-do list. After cleaning out my car (junk drawer), paid my bills, completed my laundry and sent off some emails, I decided I would mow the front yard and enjoy the wonderful weather. Now, I live on Summit Ave. in St. Paul, which for those of you who don't know if a historical street in the city, about 5 miles long that includes the Governor's mansion and the Cathedral. During the late afternoon rush hour the streets, sidewalks and median are filled with respective cars, bikers and runners. To paint a picture it is busy, so I am right in the action with my lawn mower. Now the grass was shin=high, and was clearly in need of a clean trimming. I got around the perimeter a couple of times when I  noticed that the blade kept getting clogged, the mower slowed down and the engine started smoking.

The wheels were too low, and anyone with a green thumb knows that you can't cut that much grass at one time- hence why cutting the grass is a weekly routine, right? My stubbornness kicked in about the third time the engine died and I was determined to finish the job. Naturally, I don't raise the wheels because I wanted the grass to be the same length. I wish I had pictures of the people's faces as they went my our house watching me crank the choke repeatedly, sweating, pushing the mower as hard as I could while thousands of blades of grass were flying all around me. I haven't been a walking mess since the last time I took the 'walk of shame' one Sunday morning in Iowa City. One runner passed me when I had just a small patch left, he stopped and said, " Hey, do you know you can raise the wheels and make your life easier?". Really? Thanks Smartass!

So once I finish mowing I spent another hour raking the dead grass that created a sheet over the whole front yard. 23 mounds of grass I raked. Mounds, not piles. With blistered hands, droplets of sweat clogging up my sunglasses I didn't know if I should scream, laugh or break down crying. Conveniently the 6 o'clock A.A. meeting was starting across the street and the cars began to park in their designated spots in front of our house. In my moment of frustration a fellow member of the program got out of his car and came up to me, laughed and said, "Shit that's a lot of grass! Need any help?". My ego was too big to say yes, but as the man walked down the sidewalk I began laughing hysterically. Here I am in my big ass yard raking 23 mounds of grass  because I wouldn't change the wheel settings.

In that moment, there were a couple of things that happened; I laughed rather than cracked, and I surrendered rather than complied. Thank God for my women's meeting this morning! I was reminded how powerful surrendering is for me.

As an alcoholic, I don't struggle with a drinking disease, I struggle with a thinking disease. If I allow myself free reign, my mind can start running full speed in the wrong direction, I can easily get so caught up in a story of the 'what ifs' and 'why nots'. If I comply to my thoughts, to the story I create or to the insane behaviors my mind intrigues me with- then all bets are off. But if I can stay present, and fully surrender to the moment I am in, then I am able to laugh rather than flip out over some blades of grass.

Surrendering myself is to fully accept myself in whatever situation, predicament, or moment I may be in. I have the ability to now step back from my thoughts, name my emotions and recognize why I am acting the way that I am. A woman today in my meeting shared with the group the way in which she envisions surrendering. She held up her hand, opened her palm and told us that in moments of angst, on the brink of compliance she holds up her hand and gives whatever it is she is feeling to God.

So this afternoon I picked up 23 mounds of grass, bagged them in 8 hefty trash bags, finished mowing the back yard, and swept up the sidewalk.

Today, the neighbors were probably wondering why I was doing yard work with my hand help up in the air...

Monday, September 27, 2010

Capable of Being Wounded

Even though I haven't written in a few days doesn't mean I haven't been thinking about this blog. I don't really have a good excuse for not posting, I have just fully enjoyed rebelling against my regular schedule lately, and apparently that meant not following through with my nightly routine of a virtual moral inventory and a few moments with God. Rest assure my friends, J-mac is back!

As I sit here in my bed tonight I am trying to restrain myself from getting up and preforming my version of the quick-step as if I were made up in a glitzy costume and mesmerizing the crowd with my slick kicks. That is what watching two hours of ABC's 'Dancing with the Stars' will do to you. I mean I intended to get up from the television and do other various tasks this evening, but that show sucks me in. Why? Is it because like me, millions of other viewers really enjoy watching ballroom dancing, or is it that we can't turn away from well-known celebrities subjecting themselves to raw vulnerability? I mean, there were literally points of that show that I found myself making facial expressions on the couch, clinching my teeth, squinting my eyes, and biting my lip in a spurt of angst to watch these people perform. Right before the routines begin the camera zooms in on each contestant; you can hear their heart racing and feel their sweaty palms. As the judges and fans rave about the celebrities and their courage to come onto the show, I can't help but wonder, is it courage or pure vulnerability that is so enticing?

If you look it up, you will read that the definition of vulnerability is described as the capacity of one to be physically or emotionally wounded. Considering that, I've realized how much vulnerability I  am subjected to on a daily basis. In my job I see patients get cut open, operated on and casted up as means of being physically wounded. I volunteered at a Recovery Center on Saturday where I dozens of women were healing both physically and mentally from the painstaking disease of addiction. I watch Michael, the rebellious teen, come home after a long day and cuddle and lovingly stroke Pacino to sleep. And tonight In my 12-step meeting I was surrounded by a dozen grown men who were pouring out their emotions, talking about their feelings and exemplifying their wounded souls.

In our society we put such a negative connotation on the idea of allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. It is a really scary thing that most people try to avoid because their fear controls their reigns. I know what it feels like first hand. I've lived my whole life trying to keep up the facade that I thought was my reflection. I spent so much time and energy tyring to hold everything in my life together, when really it was all falling apart. I fought vulnerability, ran from it even, fearful of rejection, judgement and abandonment. But the ironic thing is that I didn't feel confident, grounded or comfortable in my own skin until I was willing to let go and be vulnerable.

I have so many physical and emotional wounds. I have a bite mark the size of a quarter on my arm that was a result of my rock bottom (literally getting my ass beaten), and I see that physical wound everyday. With my visual impairment I am forced to make accommodations on a daily basis- my attempts of trying to hide it have worn out. I can't hide it anymore. Every morning when I take my 'happy' pill I am reminded of my emotional wounds and the help that I NEED. And every night when I go to bed, when I say the Seventy prayer out loud I am reminded that I am a walking, talking breathing addict and alcoholic and that my sobriety directly depends on my ability to be vulnerable.

But vulnerability is not a demeaning thing. It is actually in moments of vulnerability that people gain pure strength. Think about it- have you ever been turned off, felt contracted or rejected loved ones in moments that they exposed themselves fully and have showed you that they too are capable of being wounded? Or in moments of their vulnerability have you felt understanding, appreciation and closer to them than ever before? The truth is, we are all humans, and for that fact we are all capable of being wounded both physically and mentally. We all have our faults, our character defects and imperfections. But the more we take chances, expose our inner selves and open our hearts to others, the more power and confidence we gain, and the less scary being vulnerable becomes.

Vulnerable situations are still never comfortable. They aren't easy, and I am not saying that they are all positive experiences. But as I have found, the more open and honest we become in our reflection of ourselves, the more love and compassion the world will show us. Embrace your wounds!

So I've got a wake up call for those of you who still have reservations about being vulnerable and who this is a crock of shit: You're not perfect, you never will be, and as a part of growing, we all must wear our scars on our sleeves.

Literally.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Bare Essentials

It rained cats and dogs here today in the Twin Cities. I mean it didn't stop all day. The clouds didn't let up, the sun didn't come out, and the raindrops seemed to get bigger as the day went on. Now that I haven't been in Seattle for 5 months I can honestly say that I love a good, hard rain. It is relieving in a sense. Think about the anticipation that people have when it hasn't rained for a couple of weeks. At least here in the Midwest, we enjoy every sunny day and don't take them for granted, because we know that a plethora of rain (or snow) will surely make its appearance, whether we like it or not. On a gloomy, dark, eire day like today I felt relieved.

A steady rainy day like today is like a good, long. hard cry.You know the kind of cry that creates tracks of tears down your face. The kind of cry that makes you whimper, gasp for air and tightens the back of your throat. Rarely, very rarely I get to have a good cry. We physically release pent up emotions, captured tension and a bit of our heart. Our insides literally come out of our inner being in the form of tear drops. Isn't that ironic? It takes an emotional breakdown, a tragedy, weeks or years of pent up resentment even for  us to get out what we have been holding inside ourselves. I experience moments of anticipation every so often, where I think I am going to crack, I can feel a rainy day coming on. I used to have a lot more rainy days of my own before I discovered how to thoroughly take care of myself. I prefer a few daily sprinkles here and there because it helps cut down my anxiety in anticipation of a rainy day.

It is relieving once you can come out on the other side of  a raw emotional experience. But what I find challenging is how to be supportive, loving and present when the people I care about most are struggling themselves wit stormy weather. It can be an uncomfortable place can't it? If a loved one, a friend, co-worker, parent, or child is struggling to the point that you can literally envision their dark thoughts and rain clouds beginning to hover. I used to live a life in which I exhausted myself trying to provide shelter for these people to protect them from the rain. The truth is, not even my umbrella can prevent the storm from coming. There is no easy way around it. Not even rain gear will keep you fully dry. Each of us have to trudge through our own emotions, allowing them to organically take their course.

I have spent a lot of time in the past year learning how to create and maintain my own healthy boundaries from some of the most important people in my life. It is a psychedelic concept really. I mean here I am once again in my life getting caught up in the black and white. Wanting to be the caretaker and endure other's pain for them, or completely disregard them as if their pain and sorrow doesn't exist. But like a typical rainstorm I need to show up, willing and able, in the gray.

Unfortunately I have learned the hard way that there is nothing I can do to fix any person, any situation or prevent any kind of rain storm from coming. I am a sympathetic person though, empathetic and compassionate. I feel more comfortable if I can take on your pain for you rather than watch you muscle through it. I'll tell you that my vision is fine, when really I live a life with a cloud of fear following me around, constantly. I'll order you a round of shots and a cold brew just so you don't feel uncomfortable not drinking around me. And the thought of even my most loved ones making an accommodation for me puts a pit in my stomach.

But these are things that I face in which I am responsible to deal with. I think that as we all continue on our own separate paths in life it is key to recognize that no one person, place or thing can prevent a rainy day from pouring down on us. But our loved ones will be waiting for us with a warm towel when the rain lets up. And I keep my stack of warm towels with me at all times, because mother nature is unpredictable.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

HeY MA'AM, you got PUNkeD!

Wednesdays are my favorite day of the week. I get to start my day spending time at my favorite women's meeting which meets at the coolest little coffee shop in St. Paul. We gather in a our own private room which has warm glowing lights, hot coffee and is nice and snug for intimate conversation. I spend time each week with women who are all probably twice my age, twice as wise, understanding and compassionate. I got to walk in there today feeling raw and share everything that i posted on my blog yesterday. I'll tell you what, there is noting more comforting than a room full of smirks and nodding heads. I was able to talk about my anger, irritability, and discomfort in a safe place with no judgement coming back my way. I get to share my thoughts and feelings with no opinions, no one trying to insert a solution and the respect of full attentive listening from a room full of strangers.  A room full of people who smile, nod and send a sense of understanding your way- that is the healing ointment that can aid any wound.

All we really want as human beings is to be understood though, right? Women, men, addicts, '-holics', strangers, friends, lovers, we all want a sense of comfort in knowing that at our core, we are not alone. A simple nod, eye contact, and active listening- it all contributed to the release of frustration that I contracted inside me all day yesterday. I don't know why it works, I can't explain the click that goes off inside me, but waking up at 6:30 in the morning and gathering with a bunch of women is what keeps me grounded. These women remind me of my true north, and they don't even have to say a thing to me. Their presence is the key. And for that I am forever grateful. Rather than picking up a pipe, or slamming a bottle of wine, I talk about my feelings, am rigorously honest, open my heart and show up. Go figure!

Another reason I love Wednesdays is because I get to hang out at one of my favorite hospitals for the day where the staff of nurses, anesthesia, support staff and Docs are 2nd to none. A Doctor brought in 5 assorted cakes and pies today. So naturally I tried all of them (only just a sliver!) and found personal pleasure in my work day. Chocolate pound cake, cheesecake, raspberry pie, key lime pie, and peach berry pie. I literally have not stopped thinking about those damn pies all day. I get emotionally attached to my food, its my quick fix, soothes my soul, and is an orgasm to the mouth. 

Then after dancing my booty off in my Hip-Hop class I was walking to my car, in the dark, windy pouring rain. High on life, and my sweet moves and happy to head home for a little R&R. 

"Ma'am, Ma'am! Please! Please! I need help. I am here with my mother, we are stuck, our ride left and we need to get home back to Red Wing. (Teary-eyed, looking desperate). Please Ma'am, please I need your help!"

This woman bull-shitted a pretty good story. Told me she miraculously didn't have her license, didn't bring her purse to St. Paul, but happened to know where an ATM was. And in the midst of my doubt and questions I couldn't help but see the desperation that this woman's eyes were beaming  with. So, naturally soaking wet, I grabbed my wallet and went to the ATM and got this woman $20 cash. The convince store manager looked at me like, 'you idiot! you fell for it!'. Part of my knew it, but I couldn't help my own screaming conscious. If I ever get in a situation like this I hope I could get some help. Besides, maybe this woman was telling the truth. Either way in our 2 minute walk around the block together I was able to tell her about some of my own personal changes that I've made in my life. Deep down, I think I could relate to this woman, I knew what it felt like to be in a desperate state of mind, and I couldn't walk away from her. 

Soaking wet, in the pouring rain, this woman gave me a hug, and we embraced. In that split second I swear she could hear me, and I didn't open my mouth. Maybe it was a divine appointment. Maybe it was a GOD thing. Or maybe when she turned the corner and walked away she laughed her ass off thinking, 'Ha, Ma'am you are a fool! You just got punked'!

OK fine. Worst case scenario this woman scammed me out of $20, plus a $2 ATM fee, I fell for a scam and I add some deb to my tuition of life. Or maybe I helped a woman, cut her a break and gave her a bit of hope. 

At the least bit, I hope some good karma will be sent my way. I like to store my karma in a jar on my dresser, and save it for a rainy day. 

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Fury Flurries

I have a list of things that I would really enjoy blogging about, and I promise that there are some topics to come that will be raunchy, touching, personal and ironic. But tonight I can't get past some particular feelings that are worth exploring via my public journal.

There isn't anything in my life right now that is significant enough to upset me. I had a wonderful weekend, relaxing, fulfilling and productive. My week is off to a great start. And I found myself in therapy last night dozing off a bit, trying to find a few things worth talking about, but I just seemed to be doing fine. Bored if anything, actually that was the word of the night. I am getting a bit bored with life, and for me, that means that things are going smoothly. I like chaos, I am used to the ups and downs, and when I'm not in the midst of commotion I tend to get restless. (I am working on it though. Trust me. Over a year now I have been working my own personal therapy on a weekly basis, and being content in the even-keel  is still something I struggle with). But this blank, dull, Blah feeling of boredom took a turn today and turned into a bit of irritation.

It started when I missed my alarm this morning and missed a great 12 step meeting at 6;30am. My day started a bit off. As I drove to my first case this morning there was nothing on the radio, and all I wanted was to hear one good 'pump-me-up' song before I hit the ground running. Nope, nothing more than phony ads. everything was annoying me. The pace people were carrying on at, the looks I was getting, perky people, blank people, the people I usually enjoy being around were getting to me. I even had a bit of road rage today! I haven't experienced that since I have lived up here in the metropolitan area, and I drive at least 100 miles on a typical work day. I even flipped some guy in a green mini-van the bird because he wouldn't let me in his lane! How disgusting of me!! (Although, it felt a bit liberating). When I got home I wanted a 30 minute nap, and Pacino was going ape-shit over a ground squirrel out the window and ruined my quiet time.

Tonight at yoga, the part of my day I was looking forward to the most, I couldn't hold a pose. I was losing my balance, getting aggravated. Some woman came in late, messed up my chi, and the instructor was being slow and making us stay in uncomfortable poses for an ungodly amount of inhalations. I came home to my room in the basement and in the dark felt and heard crunching Frito Scoops in between my toes. Ugh, can't the boys pick up after themselves? Not be slobs in MY space?  (Irrational). Then I got agitated because I sounded like my mother in my own head.

WTF? Why today? I couldn't even relax in the shower. So here I am writing a blog, moaning about how angry I am over the most petty, insignificant, stupid incidents ever. I can't shake the feeling. It is my personality to want to control every situation, people, placed and things. I know that. I admit it, accept it and work on it in my daily life. But some days I am sick of working so hard. I am frustrated.

Some days I get pissed that I have to work twice as hard as my peers because I have half the vision. Sometimes I am resentful that I can't enjoy a beer like a normal drinker, and that I will forever struggle with my addictive behaviors. Some moments I feel so much pent up anger that I swear I could put a fist through a brick wall, and some passing breaths I wish I could get out of my own head.

Yeah, yeah, at least I get to experience these feelings though right? I am not numbed out to them, it is a part of learning and a part of growing. I just haven't felt the raw burn of anger for a long time and it is really uncomfortable.

I'll pray on it tonight, go to my women's meeting first thing in the morning, and hopefully when I face the day these feelings of rage will be lifted. Maybe boredom leads to anger. Maybe I am just feeling this way because I am filling space. Either way, I know I don't want to live filled with fury, and as much as I hate winter, I hope this feeling  passes as flurries do across a dashboard on a cold night in Minnesota.

Phew!

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Seasons change, self changes

As I sit here tonight in our office writing this Blog, I can't help but wish I was somewhere by myself, a dark room, with a fresh breeze, maybe some light music, a cup of sleepy-time tea would be nice, and perhaps there is such a place where my spirit could feel free again. Just for tonight. 

I went to the movie 'Eat, Pray, Love' last Thursday afternoon after work. It was the first time I had been to a movie by myself, and it was incredible. No more than three of us in the old theatre, clearly we were all trying to escape reality, we were all alone. What a perfect movie for someone to see alone too. The movie struck some personal chords though, and these feelings have stayed with me all weekend. In the movie, Julia Roberts sets out for a year long journey to three different countries to fight a burning itch within her and hopes to find an answer to her dissatisfaction in life. 

Don't you ever have those kinds of thoughts? What is my purpose in this life? Is this all that life really has to offer me, is this as good as it gets? What am I missing, how do I make these uncomfortable feelings of discontent stop? I swear there were times in that movie when I couldn't see the screen because my eyes were filled with tears, thinking to myself, 'how did they know what I was thinking'? Today I went on a run up and down Summit Ave and I was noticing how much the trees here in Minnesota are changing colors. The green oaks now have bright orange and brilliant red frosted tips. Fall is really here, and with a new season comes a chance for a refreshing reinvention of the Self. 

I couldn't help but think about my trip in '07 to the South Pacific, all of the people that I met, the places I saw, the experiences I had and the person I transformed into. 'Eat, Pray, Love' reminded me of how much life is out there, how many experiences are waiting to be had, and how insignificant my little life is. I was running from a lot of things when I left to go to Australia, and unfortunately it was all waiting for me when I returned back home. In retrospect, my arrival back to the states marks the downward spiral of my destructive behaviors, the brink of my addiction and the evidence of why my life was unmanageable. 

I slept in ancient huts in the mountains of Fiji with no electricity or running water. I traveled the Eastern coast of Australia, camping, sailing, kayaking, surfing, driving, floating my way around. I went black water rafting and tried extreme sports while living in an RV through the country of New Zealand. And I have my motor license in the Cook Islands, where i rode around the entire country in less than 2 hours. I was on the ultimate adrenaline rush, high on life, and when I came home I chased that feeling for two and a half years. I immediately developed an eating disorder, smoked cigarettes regularly, drank away my grief and got high to make it through another day. 

As I look back, each season seems to have its own 'monumental' moment. Something big that happened that directed my frame of mind for the months to follow. Some good, some tragic. But I can't help to think about the changing seasons and how refreshing they were. The smell of a new start, the sights of falling leaves, or falling snow, the ability to take a deep breath, or the chance to set new goals and standards. Some stuck, some mattered and some made a difference. Until the next season came and I felt an excuse to make a break, to let go, and clean my slate. 

 I couldn't help but to think of that today while i was running. Fortunately I now know that you don't have to travel half way across the world to find inner peace, to make a clean break or start over. It is a conscious choice we all make. But perhaps the changing of a season might give you a bit of motivation. 

I hope that this fall I will be more lit up than I was this summer regarding my work, my drive, my passion for making a difference in this world. I hope to stride for living in the gray rather than the black and white, and I pray for a little bit of that adrenaline that I know life has to offer. 

You see, we need the seasons to be able to grow. We need the change, and the excuse to re-evaluate and re-invent ourselves. Be hopeful, think of all the things that this Fall season will present you, both the good and the bad. As the seasons change, the self changes and we continue to grow. 


Prayer is a relationship; half the job is mine. If I want transformation, but can’t even be bothered to articulate what, exactly, I’m aiming for, how will it ever occur? Half the benefit of prayer is in the asking itself, in the offering of a clearly posed and well-considered intention. If you don’t have this, all your pleas and desires are boneless, floppy, inert; they swirl at your feet in a cold fog and never lift.”
— Elizabeth Gilbert

From 'Eat, Pray, Love', Author, Elizabeth Gilbert

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Reasons i am blessed

                                Some highlights from August with some of my favorite people.



Michael and I in Rocky Mountains. 



Visiting Pat in Laguna Beach


Iowa City will never be the same again...



Downtown Chicago with Coleslaw




some things never change <3 

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Healing Laughter

When I finally left my office tonight around 8:30 p.m. I stepped outside into a torrential monsoon. Minnesota style. I had a good day, I was productive with work, closed some deals, shook hands and kissed babies. I got up and made my morning women's meeting at 6:30, and got a work out in all before tackling my 'to do' list.

I have been living with my Aunt Mary and her three teenage boys for just over a year now. Originally I was going to live here temporarily, to get my feet wet, find a job and get settled in to my new life in the Twin Cities. Before this I went from living in a single dorm room,  to a sorority house, to backpacking in hostels and open beaches in the South Pacific, to living with four college women. Not to mention I had a number of hard core roommates when I lived in Plymouth, MN for 28 days!

The truth is, I love it here. Even though it has been a transition getting used to living as part of a family again, it is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Today's example is that after a long day, after feeling tired, worn out, and drained, I get to come home to people who love me unconditionally with open arms. I am greeted with no judgement, no dependency, no assumptions, or expectations. I am my rawest form at home. I walk in the door, get a big hug from Mary, a hug from Devin (and a smart ass comment), and "what's up?" from Michael, and a kiss from Garrett. By the time I put my sweatpants and over sized t-shirt on I have a spot on the couch waiting for me. This is my favorite part of the day. I get to snuggle with Pacino, and let go of everything and unwind.

Tonight we spent a good hour and a half playing with Pacino, which usually consists of teasing him and playing games. These boys make me laugh so hard! The kind of laughter that makes your belly ache, that makes you skip a breath, and snort/grunt/wheeze/giggle. Laughter is contagious, it is a good form of peer pressure, and at the least bit it keeps you grounded.


I used to laugh a lot as a child. I have vivid memories with my sister and brother, with my friends,, mt parents, just laughing, and laughing, and laughing. I used to have a grunt to my laugh, which I still do sometimes. Laughing is the best high you can experience. It is authentic, pure, natural, organic and individually unique to each and every one of us.

If you are feeling down, need a quick fix or a pick me up, think about that child inside of you. Think about the innocence and the joy that illuminates laughter. All I know is laughter gives me juice, it stimulates me in ways that no other emotional experience can.

So today keep your eyes peeled for the many diverse, humorous interactions that surround you, listen for the sounds of smiles, and treasure the gift of pure, genuine laughter.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Pivotal Points

OK, at some point I will blog about the ridiculously insane, hysterical things that happen in my daily life, but I want this blog to be the most raw and honest reflection of what is going on in my head. So, even though I just finished a wonderful dinner eating homemade pizza with my family here in St. Paul, (Auntie, the boys, Pacino our Pitbull and Yo-Yo the cat) I feel obliged to write about what has been laying on my heart today. 


I have always been such a terrible decision maker. Ask anyone who knows me. I have vivid childhood memories of overwhelming episodes of anxiety when I would transition from my Dad's house back to my Mom's. Do I want to go to Ames or go to the Homecoming dance? Do I want a strawberry or raspberry smoothie? Do I buy the jeans or not? You know I am told that as an alcoholic one of my character defects is that I try and control my surroundings and I wouldn't disagree with that. Ironic though, that decision making has been such a struggle for me. Today I work very delicately on the idea that I can't control or change any person, place thing or situation. I can only be responsible for my own behaviors and actions. Well, don't get me wrong, I have made strides, but I am still not perfect. Working in an industry that is dominated by males I find myself struggling with containing my bossy attitude. I don't get road rage anymore because I've come to terms with the fact that I don't get to direct traffic, and I can't make a guy love me exactly the way I want to be loved if he doesn't have the capacity to do so. 


But what interests me is the pivotal points in our lives that our decisions change everything. The times in our lives when we know we need help, but are too afraid to ask for it. The moments when we feel so broken and exhausted that giving up would be a hell of a lot easier than facing reality, and split seconds that we feed into our need for immediate gratification. For example, that morning when I realized I had hit my rock bottom, with my family in desperate pain staring at me with welted eyes, when I made my decision to drop everything and head to St. Paul, that was a pivotal moment. 


I can't help but wonder though, what happens to us in the fragile moments leading up to a decision?


I can assume that everyone who is reading this right now has some aspect of their life that they know they could change, improve or flourish, but they just 'haven't gotten around to it yet'. Maybe you want to improve a relationship with a estranged sibling, start a work-out plan, seek council for the feelings you can't bare anymore, or even quitting your most guilty pleasure. I don't know what it was about that sunny  May day in Iowa City, the overwhelming feeling, the burning sensation in my body that just decided for me. I was at such a low, I wasn't having fun anymore in life. The drinking, the partying, the non-stop on the go madness that my life consisted of had gotten the best of me. Its not like I had time to think about up and leaving Iowa City either, I was asked to leave on the spot and the decision was made in the same amount of time it takes me to complete a full inhalation. 


Similar moments include the seconds I had before jumping out of an airplane 14,000 feet in the air over the Great Barrier Reef, swerving left instead of right in an oncoming car accident, and surrendering my will to the power of God. 


Regardless of your situation, of how big you may think your problems are, of how scary it may be to take a deep look inside yourself, or how trapped you feel in dependency; we are all subject to pivotal points of change. Don't think with your mind, don't act on your heart, but allow the decision to move through you when and how it is supposed. to. 


You don't have the control to orchestrate the pivotal points in your life. But pay close attention,because these simple. silky moments can pass you by. 







Monday, September 13, 2010

Physical Pane

I had a goal to write every single day. I am glad that lasted for my first three entries. I do have a good excuse though, (or at least I am really good at manipulating people to think so), I was watching football out at some local St. Paul bars all day Saturday. Yeah, dead sober, I stayed out from 2 p.m. until 12:30 A.M.! I just indulged in 7 Diet Cokes, 3 sugar free red bulls, 2 waters in a short glass, and a fruity drink that the sober bartender made me. So, to all those wondering...you can take the girl out of the party, but you can't take the party out of the girl.

I actually have quite a few things rolling through my head today, some of which should not be posted publicly, some of which I shared with my Sponsor, some I revealed to my therapist, and others I told my Physician. Last Tuesday morning I woke up with excruciating abdominal pain. No nausea, not even the feeling of an upset stomach, I mean I'm talking it felt like someone stabbed me with two aggressive wrenches and every time I moved, walked or took a deep breath, the ratchet would tighten. OK, maybe that is a bit dramatic, but in all honesty I was hurting. Now you need to understand this about me; I can endure pain. I once fractured my elbow in college after some slap-dick took me out in a co-ed basketball league and didn't take any medication until my E.R. visit the following day. I have scars all over to reflect the destruction my body has been through. You try walking in 4-inch high heels in the middle of an Iowan winter, on a sheet of ice! I am pretty sure my legs were bruised throughout my drinking years due to the stupid shit I did. Paint this picture; I woke up after graduating college with a black eye, a shredded shirt, fat lip, bloody, battered, fleshy gashes, and bruised ribs. Yeah, not ideal.  My eyes physically hurt on a bright and sunny day if I don't have sunglasses on. Scratch that, it doesn't even have to be sunny, cloudy days are hard to adjust to as well! Physical pain? Yeah, I can handle that.

But this past week in the midst of my pain, in between pounding 8-12 Advil's a day to get by, after slowly moving out of the fetal position to get out of bed, the physical pain didn't seem so bad. I didn't get any better as the week progressed. It actually got worse. My family was actually worried, so I sucked it up and went to the Doctor today to find out that I had a bladder infection. Doc couldn't figure it out, I spent 2 hours at His office.

Once you get the image of urine out of your head you can pay attention to the point I am going to make...

As I was sitting there today I thought that the physical pain I was enduring really didn't seem like much compared to some of the emotional pain I have recently dealt with in the last couple years of my life. I mean in comparison, the abdominal pain, the loss of appetite, the fatigue, none of it compares to a broken soul. After spending years of my life numbing my feelings, my fears, reality, and my emotional pain, it was hard  sitting with myself, I mean taking a raw look in the mirror was insufferable.

Now I get to experience the positives too. I get to laugh naturally, I've felt what it feels like to really love, and feel organically happy. But there are times of loneliness, grief, anxiety, frustration, and anguish that are truly painful. Being brutally honest, admitting my faults, facing the guilt and shame of my past, being rejected, growing apart from those close to me, giving up my favorite coping mechanisms, fighting cravings to take the edge off, (when all I want to do is say 'f*@# it' and get high); these things are far more unbearable than a stomach cramp or a moderate migraine. For example, someone very dear to me is a healthy, active, fit, person who is on the go 24-7. But this person's emotional pain is eating away at his inner core that he is literally deteriorating. It has to be a balance.

What I am learning here in St. Paul is how to take care of myself. Emotionally. And physically. They are equally just as important.  Mind+Body+Spirit. 


Living a balanced life is a daily challenge for me. In my pane I have a belly full of antibiotics, a mind at ease, and a heart that has a serene beat to it. Well, at least for tonight.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Divine Appointments


Finally, i am at the point in my day in which I get to "check-out", relax, and unwind. I worked a 13 hour day today, non-stop, on the go. I seem to work better that way. Perhaps it is because when I am constantly on the go I stay preoccupied as a human 'doing' rather than a human 'being'. If I just keep going, then maybe the world will pass me by, maybe things will get done that I've put off, maybe I can forget the pain that used to eat away at me, and maybe, just maybe I can forget to fret about the unknown future.

Bear with me, I haven't slowed down all day until now, at 11:00 pm, so I might be jumping all over the place. I used to stay busy to avoid myself. I used to go non-stop so that I didn't have to look at myself in the mirror longer than to cover my dark circles and throw on some mascara. If I kept going, I wouldn't have to stop and sit with myself, I wouldn't have to acknowledge my past or admit that my way of coping wasn't working. Nowadays I don't get high off of much (other than a good episode of 'Chelsea Lately' and a late night drumstick...as in the ice cream!) so when I can keep busy, I buzz. Until I crash again, and then the whole F-ed up cycle starts all over again! See, you don't need drugs and alcohol to have problems!!

But what I was thinking about today is that no matter how busy our lives get, or how caught up in superficial things we may be, there are some things that we just can't avoid. We can't avoid diseases, we can't avoid death, we can't avoid natural disasters, brutal winters in Minnesota, aging, or even ourselves. And whether you believe that there is a road map of your life written out for you in the sky, or that life is just a string of random incidents, you still can't avoid meeting certain people at the certain time you meet them,

I mean think about it, whether its the guy next to you on the plane, the woman in the hallway at work, a stranger in the cafe or a withered relationship that is rekindled by an odd coincidence, we really don't have control over the divine appointments in our lives. It boggles my mind to think that a higher power is orchestrating the things that happen in my life. You don't have to believe that either, you may think that life is random and we all just chose our own destiny. If that is the case, then riddle me this; how come I can meet someone half way across the world and instantly feel connected, feel a kind of love that is pure understanding? Why do I have a chronic visual impairment, and why did I find out about it at the age of 17 instead of 56? How come my Aunt Mimi decided to come to my graduation on a limb, and end up rescuing me to her home in St. Paul, MN? How did I land m dream job in a place I never thought possible? How come I meet someone at an A.A. meeting who happens to speak about my very feelings without even talking to me? And how come God continues to answer my prayers when I feel like I least deserve them?

Don't you ever wonder? The people in your life, the timing, the place, the state of mind- is it meaningless and empty, or is it serendipitous and unavoidable?  I don't know about you, but I have had some days in which I have felt so beaten down and deflated that believing in a purpose is the only thing that gets me through the next breath.

I don't regret a thing about my story. I don't wish for any changes to be made or for a single thing to be different. Each encounter, each occasion, each event, they are all a chain of links which have brought me to where I am today. Be present to the divine appointments that are presented to you EVERY DAY of your life. They are not random, we are all connected, and we are all growing together.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Success-Full?

I have found myself walking a fine line this summer between "taking care of myself" and some days struggling to get out of bed to start the day. Now I have never struggled with motivation, until I learned how to slow down, relax and take care of myself. I used to party 6 nights a week, average 4 hours a sleep per night, work 3 jobs, work on a double-degree, volunteer, make my sorority meetings, and never skip a beat of my social life. Go big or go home was my motto...only problem was, I never went home! But today I have learned a whole new way of living, a life which involves morning meditations, healthy coping tactics, sleeping naturally and without any narcotics, and mastering the art of napping. But let's be real, I am a sales representative in a highly competitive industry. I am 23 years old- I'm in the prime time of my life to be meeting new people, shaking hands, kissing babies and making that mu-la-la.

My father is a football coach for Pete's sake! I used to get pep talks to take a high school exam, I had consequences of suicide sprints rather than no T.V., and was raised on the basis that it is important WHAT you are, not WHO you are. So I've never struggled to ignite my fire. Until recently. Until the presence of a 24oz light roast coffee (black) is the only motivator to get me out of bed. Tuesday I slept from 9:30am until 4:00pm, and I slept hard! What up with that?

I am not on my period, I haven't had a recent breakup, I am not sleep deprived, God knows I am not pregnant, I am not hungover or even feeling sick. Listening to my body is the excuse I will stick with for now. Perhaps I am just too comfortable. I thrive better off of chaos. Whenever I feel a little bit of success,  I find myself feeling satisfied- briefly- before the guilt kicks back in to drink twice as much caffeine and sell, sell, sell!! exhausting cycle.

My friend Holly and I used to take frequent "personal days"  usually after the Sunday Blues had kicked  in after a weekend that made my mouth pucker. I used to allow myself a day off to recover from life. Now it is a constant battle recovering from taking a day off.  My Sundays are my Target/grocery store/laundry/pay bills/clean the house/run errands/catch up on sleep/work out/make a decent meal days. I could use 6 Sundays a week. (Although I do miss the 'personal days' of greasy burgers from Mickey's accompanied with 8 consecutive hours of E! True Hollywood Story).

So if you're feeling like me, and feel you need a little jump in your step, don't grab a 5-hour energy drink, listen to this guy in the video below and he will eat away at your conscious and make you feel guilty whenever you are  about to close your eyes for a quick cat nap. Your Welcome. And remember, you can never be too successful!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAJPPjGrU7g



Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Dabbling in Blogging

I guess you could say I am a bit slow to the world of blogging. I haven't had my Mac Powerbook working since February because I have been too lazy to purchase a new charger. However,  with previous access limited to public desktops at work, and a shared one at home, I haven't done anything other than check my emails, read my depressing bank account, and occasionally checking my profile on the "Book". So now that I have my laptop back, I have a new fix, and for some reason decided that my life is just too good to keep to myself.

The things that go through my head, the people that I meet, the experiences that I endure and the obstacles I constantly have to overcome may be entertaining to you, they may make you cringe, laugh, cry or leave you dumbfounded. But at the least I believe that my life will intrigue you, it will allow you to escape your own world and indulge in the not so normal saga of mine.

So who is 'Constantly Growing's' niche? Well, .anyone who may be the slightest bit interested in what a day in the life of a 23 year old woman may be. Whereas our pop culture may tell you that most people in my demographic are concerned with the next happy hour, a potential dinner date for Saturday night, all the favorite brands, brands, brands, brands, Vampires, 1 night stands, earning enough salary to make rent in their city apartment, the newest diet, Tweeting, Tagging and Poking, I find myself in a whirlwind without even dipping in to that  hot lava that consumes most of my peers. Rather I commonly deal with ways in which to convince Orthopaedic Surgeons that i know what the hell I am talking about, fighting the urge to take the edge off- to take a sip of Miller Light or to smoke a fat joint-, I often am concerned with getting to 3 AA meetings a week, calling my Sponsor daily, making routine strides in my personal therapy, learning to live a whole new way of life, letting go and letting God, staying humble and constantly trying to convince people that I am not a complete idiot, that I know how to read, I am not a space cadet- but rather I am just going blind.

My life is absolutely nothing but abnormal. I am a rare breed if you will. I have traveled to some of the greatest places, met some inspiring people and had many candid experiences. All of which make me who I am today. I've been through the ringer, faced a lot of challenges and hit my rock bottom, but all of these things combined make me the strong, endearing individual that i am today.

The point of this Blog is to provide readers with some light humor to their day, and to remind them that no matter how bad life may seem, no matter the moment, the circumstance or the weight of any obstacle we are all constantly growing into the person we were meant to be.