I first heard my husband described as my “qualifier” at an anon meeting I attended a few days after my second disclosure. I wondered what he was qualifying for at the time. First place at breaking my trust? Perhaps it was first place at breaking my heart? Either way, I was so crushed I felt he deserved gold medals in both competitions.Read More
I remember when the only meetings I attended were those required by my employers. Ugh. Although one company I worked for had a breakfast meeting and each division was assigned to cook breakfast on a rotating basis. That was pretty awesome. Unless it was my week to cook. I digress. This post is about meetings, not breakfast. Although you guys know how much I love my Entenmann’s.Read More
One of my favorite genres of movies and television is comedy. While many people aren’t fans of Jim Carrey, I am. Well, I’m a fan of some of his movies. Not all of them. One of his movies I enjoyed was Liar, Liar. Maybe it was because of some of the lies I was told growing up. Maybe it was because I’d become such a liar myself during my addiction.
Or on reflection, maybe it’s because it’s what caused me the most damage while Devin was in the grips of his addiction. Even while he was navigating his way through recovery, lying was one of the hardest habits for him to break. Maybe it was one of mine too. I would have loved for him to be just like Jim Carrey and not be able to tell a lie, but that wasn’t possible. Or realistic. But it sure would’ve been cool.Read More
A fall can do many things for us. It can challenge us by showing us how strong we are. It can be a great reminder of being thankful for all the blessings we have in our life. And it can humble us. For me, my darkest time humbled me quick, fast, and in a hurry. Well, maybe not so quick. Or fast. Or in a hurry. I am a stubborn, thick-headed kinda gal.Read More
I have many favorite tools in my recovery toolbox and an attitude of gratitude is right up there with boundaries and self-care. Being grateful was something I thought I already was. I mean, hell, when your husband makes you a widow at the age of twenty-six, you think by the time you’re twenty-seven you’ve examined yourself enough to say, “Be grateful for every day you have on this earth, because it may be your last.” Cause, you know, I was the poster child for that, wasn’t I? Didn’t him dying make me an expert? I sure thought so. No further self-reflection needed here, folks.Read More