I am a writer

We’ll just go ahead and call this my official coming out. Since I’ve been blogging since 2004, it’s time to make it official. I have said so many times in the past year or 2, “I can write what I can’t say.” I also have a lot of stuff to get out because I have also been saying for a while, “You’re only as sick as your secrets.”

I was told a few years ago that I have a gift for writing. And I was told that again by a different friend within the last year. I suppose I should believe it given the way I managed to BS my way through AP English in high school. Part of that credit goes to Kim Dixon for actually doing the reading assignments and telling Kelly what the book was about. I listened very intently to her summaries. So on that note, thank you Kim for getting me through AP English, and for being one of my few regular readers. :)

I’ve done a lot of questioning of myself. Who am I? What do I want to do with my life? I’m doing a lot of figuring out what I like to do and what I’m good at and matching those up. Also I have been looking at how I have been mentored and directed throughout my life. Too long I have lived my life doing what I thought was expected of me without giving enough thought to what I want and like and am good at. Heck, it’s taken a lot just to accept that I am good at something.

The gift of sobriety has given me a chance to live. Really live. Not the going-through-the-motions life I’ve always done, but a life lived among other people. A life of sharing of experience, strength, and hope to quote a few 12 step programs. I have been given an immeasurable amount of grace, and I want to share that journey with others. Other people who are scared of feeling, scared of taking action, scared of facing the past, and scared of what the future holds.

I’ve wanted to write a book for a while. I have several ideas, so maybe I’ll write several books. Who knows what the future holds.

On with the show

The DragonLady doesn’t like crowds. That’s why she doesn’t do concerts. Crowds freak her out. Also, she doesn’t like to pay the price concert tickets cost these days. But you know what? I went to see Fleetwood Mac last month paying way more than I wanted to pay for tickets in the rafters.

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Prior to the beginning of the show, I would look at that and get that feeling in my stomach as if I was going to pitch forward and fall to my death. Because I also don’t do heights.

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That’s my “this is too high” face. Note that we weren’t all the way at the top but close.

Once they came out and started playing, though, I did not notice the height at all. It was a heck of a good show! I sat there singing along with every single song as only someone who has spent a LOT of time listening to Fleetwood Mac can do. I screamed. I yelled. I was surprised I could talk the next day.

Dreams unwind. Love's a state of mind.

Dreams unwind. Love’s a state of mind.

Tusk

Tusk

They were so fantastic! Lindsey Buckingham didn’t leave the stage until just before the encore, and then just during the drum solo in World Turning. I know he is the youngest member of the band, but he is still mid-60’s rocking a 2.5 hour show.

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This was the finale, which I obviously didn’t take from the rafters. Someone with much better seats than I took this. Also, I used up my free space recording Gold Dust Woman. Which I haven’t uploaded.

But for the grace of God…

Dear fellow Christian,

You’re scared. I understand. Not being in control is very scary. And that is why you are afraid. You forget that God is in control. That He is sovereign over all. You grew up singing “Battle Hymn of the Republic” and “Onward Christian Soldiers” and believe deep down that you deserve to enjoy the privilege of being an American. You are going to eat, drink, and be merry and no sinner is going to screw that up for you. You have been taught your whole life that the United States is a Christian nation highly favored by God unlike any other nation before it. You believe we are the modern day Israel.

The United States of America has never been the “My people who are called by My name.” That was only Israel. As I saw it in a blog comment not too long ago, “IS – RA – EL.” It is a covenantal name. God made no covenant with any other nation before or since, and that includes the U.S.
If you think that the current moral state in the U.S. is the worst this nation has ever been, clearly you don’t know the full history of our nation or you are just choosing to overlook it. You think homosexuality is the worst sin to take place here? If so, I have a fraction for you: 3/5.

“Representatives and direct Taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may be included within this Union, according to their respective Numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole Number of free Persons, including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other Persons.” – From Article 1 Section 2 of the United States Constitution.

That remained in effect until the 14th Amendment passed by congress in 1866 and ratified in 1868. This stands in contrast to a particular line from the Declaration of Independence –

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness”

– which only applied if you were white. African slaves and indigenous Americans (American Indians, not European colonists) were not endowed with these rights. Human trafficking is not a Christian value. Breaking every single treaty ever made with the indigenous peoples, driving them from their lands, and slaughtering them is not a Christian value. Institutional racism, still to this day observable in many lily-white churches every Sunday, is not a Christian value.

We have played the Christian card to our benefit for centuries without suffering the suffering promised us by Jesus. We have lived a safe and prosperous existence which is neither promised nor deserved. Jesus told us to pick up our cross and follow him, not sit down and kick our feet up while expanding our waistlines.

If you are not willing to give up or lose everything – EVERY SINGLE THING – in this life then you are not really following Christ.

Are you so concerned with your personal comfort and your entitlement to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” that you lack compassion for others who are created in God’s image just as you are?

Do you think you are better than Jesus who laid aside his divinity to live and suffer as a poor man and die for you when you hated him?

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation. (Romans 5:6-11 ESV)

There are many many people in this country who need to know the love of Christ and they aren’t getting it because they are treated as the enemy. And we as Christians pat ourselves on the back for telling them their place. Then we piss and moan and play the victim when they fight back. We have forgotten that but for the Grace of God, there go we. The Cross is offensive enough. There is no reason to heap on extra offensiveness just to stroke our own egos and make ourselves believe that we are any better. We aren’t. We never will be on our own. And we certainly can’t berate and bully other people into our image. God doesn’t do that. He gave up his Son to atone for our sins as well as theirs.

God doesn’t save and protect countries for the comfort of people. He saves and protects people for His glory. And not good people because before a holy God, there are no good people.

Luke 7:36-50 New International Version (NIV)
Jesus Anointed by a Sinful Woman

36 When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. 37 A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. 38 As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.

39 When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is—that she is a sinner.”

40 Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me, teacher,” he said.

41 “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii,[a] and the other fifty. 42 Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

43 Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”

“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said.

44 Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 45 You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. 46 You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. 47 Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”

48 Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”

49 The other guests began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”
50 Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

The path unseen

The memories come flooding back,
Fresh as if it just happened.
Guilt, shame, regret; all the pain.
It wasn’t yours then, and it isn’t now.

Anger begins to well up and demand,
“Listen to me! Focus on me!”
But that road’s been well traveled.
The ruts and potholes are bottomless.

Another voice calls out from the distance,
“There is a better way. Follow me!”
I cannot see the path, and yet
The voice continues its beckoning call.

“That road you’ve always picked to walk,
It always appears to be the easier.
You can’t see the ruts or potholes
Until it’s too late, and you’ve fallen.

I know you can’t really see this path.
My path seems overgrown and hard.
It isn’t an easy path to be sure.
Follow my voice. I won’t let you fall.”

I begin walking toward the voice as it leads.
I cannot see a path, and the brush is thick.
Limbs and briars scratch and cut.
All the while the voice continues to beckon.

I want to stop and turn back from the pain.
“Don’t stop. Keep following me.”
I’m frightened because I cannot see the path,
But yet my feet fall on solid ground – rock solid.

I’m tired and thirsty, bruised and bleeding.
I keep trudging with nothing but hope.
I grow to trust the voice that leads,
Because I haven’t fallen and the voice grows clearer.

Suddenly, I break free of the strange forest.
I cannot believe what lies before me.
A clearing with a small, clear stream;
Flowers in abundance and with sweet fragrance.

A blanket is spread on the grass by the stream.
On it I find a basket of food and cup for water.
I eat and drink and nap with warmth of the sun.
I awaken to find my wounds are now just scars.

“You wonder what happened, and how you healed.
The wounds were from the anger.
You worked through it by following Me.
Now you have rested and eaten my provision.

I provided you the healing of your wounds,
And the rest from your struggle.
The scars will remain but will fade with time.
Do not hide them. Remember the journey.”

I feel his presence, but only hear his voice.
It is peaceful and loving and gentle.
The journey to this place was painful.
But forgiveness really was the easier, softer way.

Choice

It struck me in the middle of a conversation where I was sitting on my pity pot bemoaning the latest catastrophe to befall me.

Do I really trust God? Do I really trust Him?

Because it is one thing to pray and surrender everything to Him and His will, but when you’ve done that, and something happens that you didn’t anticipate, it’s another matter to follow through by walking in the faith you thought you had when you said that prayer. Talk is cheap, but living it out is going to cost something.

Clinging to control and self-sufficiency is going to cost you a lot more.

All the years I spent pushing myself and pushing myself trying to do it all and do it all perfectly exacted a heavy price. Multiple times. And I didn’t get it.

A few years ago I asked “Just how broken do I have to be?” I knew at the time. Completely. I just didn’t really know what that means exactly. I have a much better idea now. It’s whatever it takes until I become completely dependent upon God and quit trying to do everything (and do everything perfectly) in my own power in effort to be good enough.

Ah, but there’s more.

I was talking with a friend earlier this week and we got on the subject of legalism in the church. Since we both grew up Baptist, we were generally talking about Baptist churches since that’s what we have had the most experience with. I don’t know where it came from (I probably read it somewhere), but in response to discussing the logical though flawed thinking behind legalism, I said, “Grace is scary because grace can’t be controlled.”

If you can spot it, you got it.

The control freak in me doesn’t want to go down without a fight. She’s been calling the shots for decades because she has to head off every possible problem and either prevent it from happening or fix it before anyone finds out she messed up. Every time she thinks she’s hit bottom, it turns out to be a ledge, and she rolls right off over and over.

Can I really do this? Can I give up my control and self-sufficiency and really really surrender my will and my life over to the care of God?

Am I going to just admit where my best thinking has gotten me and just trust Him?

Am I going to accept the grace I can’t control?

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“…and the wind won’t stop”

Pain is baffling. It is pretty dang frustrating to spend several years trying to get healthy, changing my entire lifestyle through exercise and a healthy diet – and then getting sober – to find myself struggling with chronic pain. I even went so far as to question my sanity. After all, how many health issues can I share with Petra before I begin to wonder how much is in my head. On the other hand, when I really think about it, I can see that the issues started way before we ever met. And since I don’t believe in coincidence, there must be a reason why we were put in each other’s lives. And yeah, I over-think and tend to over-dramatize. Whatevs.

Talking to a couple of friends last week, I wondered aloud if maybe I’ve had this pain for a while and just didn’t know it because I was self-medicating. It was pointed out to me that because I have been sober for over a year now that I would naturally be more attuned to what is going on with my body. So I started thinking back trying to find a time in my life when I was dealing with a lot of pain, and in my very late 20’s and very early 30’s, I had a lot of knee, back, and wrist pain. The Air Force doctors and physical therapists couldn’t find a reason for any of the pain, though it was said that the wrist pain was likely pre-carpal tunnel. I realized that I stopped having so much widespread pain when my drinking ramped back up.

I did a little internet research and a study was done on a connection between fibromyalgia with depression and alcohol use. While the study was not to be taken completely conclusively, it showed that low and moderate use of alcohol tended to lesson the fibromyalgia pain. I went back and forth between high moderate and low heavy drinking. This could have had an impact on my pain level. Petra says my symptoms scream fibromyalgia, and I had some pain last week that definitely fit that category.

My dad claimed to have nearly every disease or disorder known to man. I know he had allergy problems and Type II diabetes. I remember a couple of times hearing him say, “I think I have depression.” I do not doubt that at all. I also have heard him talking about his recovery from his ruptured appendix, and he described an incident that sounded exactly like I feel when I have a panic attack. He also claimed to have “myalgia.” It’s a broadstroke disorder of muscle pain. Fibromyalgia falls under that broad disorder. And as I connect dots again, my mother-in-law told me that he had a problem with pills for a while. If he had pain like I have pain, I’m sure he did have a pain pill addiction because at that time he had a highly technical and physical job that would be hard to do while in chronic widespread pain.

Last week I found out something about my dad’s childhood that I never knew. I didn’t get great detail nor did I ask for more detail. I learned what I needed to know which explained why he acted the way he did. He had a really rough childhood. The one aspect of it I never knew was the one that I was able to take and finally feel connected to him. Sadly, nearly 8 years after his death, but I understand. I have friends, family, programs, and mental health support that he didn’t have. Not that he didn’t have support of friends and family. Especially family. But I have been granted awareness that he was either never granted or chose to remain in denial. And so, I think it is no coincidence that I find all this out now – after I’m sober. I know where I stand with fibromyalgia if that is indeed the reason for my pain. I also am acutely aware of my self-destructive and addictive tendencies. Okay, maybe not acutely. But aware. I don’t want pain management. I want pain elimination. If elimination is not possible, well, I suppose that will be another blow to my self-reliance. ;)

When the attitude changes

It seems like I turned into a girl overnight…at 45 years old. It’s the weirdest thing yet not something I want to fight. First it was just wearing makeup, but then I suddenly decided I wanted to wear dresses. Yes. The girl who hated, HATED, wearing dresses as a kid likes to wear dresses now. How does that even happen? And sure enough, when I wear them to work, everyone thinks I have an interview. And no, I don’t have an interview.

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What I do have is a different attitude and I can only assume it is related to sobriety and working out a lot of issues affecting my view of myself. I still have a long way to go, but it’s amazing how much easier it is to travel just one day at a time. I was reading earlier, and I had gotten to a chapter with a title that included the phrase “return to sanity.” It led to a short office discussion in which I stated that returning to sanity insinuates that you actually had sanity at some point. I will also point out that I was reading about home organization not any 12 step material. Although, the last chapter of the book referenced the founding of AA which had me look at the book from a different perspective.

Regarding sanity and it’s role in organization or lack thereof, I also had a conversation recently regarding the disorganization of my house. I’ve known my house was out of control for years, but I never really saw it as it really was. Just as I took action on my own personal appearance, I have begun to take action on the appearance of my house. Truth be told, it has looked like a couple of drunks have been living in it. The kids’ rooms are complete wrecks because they learned housekeeping skills from a couple of drunks who made minimal (if any) effort to keep a clean and orderly house.

Given the state of our house and my change in attitude, I decided that the house is getting cleaned up one way or another. I had purchased 30 Days to a Clean and Organized House a few months ago, and with that as a guide, went after my family. Because, you know, if I’m the only one working and there are 3 other people living in that house, it should be clean. CLEAN! I gave the kids a week to get their rooms cleaned up or else I was turning the internet off. Chad asked for an extra day, but he got it done and his room was by far the worst in the house. In the meantime, I cleaned up my office, the landing upstairs, the master bathroom, and got a big chunk of the master bedroom done. James got the kitchen deep cleaned, and a lot of the living room. The only reason Jamie still has internet is because I cannot currently remember the admin password to the router.

“Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change.” – Alcoholics Anonymous.

Finding a new way of life – and living it – will change your attitude, and the way you live life. Miracles happen, and promises come true.

Too much

Last week was one of those weeks where there was just too much. It’s been a while since I had a panic attack. I had 2 last week. I guess maybe I needed a reminder that there is no such thing as an instant fix for one’s issues that are so deeply rooted. I had gotten pretty confident that I had finally grown up emotionally, and then I talked to my mom, and she largely couldn’t talk back. She would try, but then get frustrated when she couldn’t say what she was thinking and say, “I’m just crazy, crazy, crazy!” I wanted to argue and yell, “NO, YOU’RE NOT CRAZY!” But I know the futility of arguing with someone who has lost the ability to reason and retain. So I would just say, “You know, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” And it is. It just doesn’t feel like it.

I had a uterine ultrasound the next day. I made light of it because I really wasn’t overly concerned. In fact, I was hoping the results would show the need for a hysterectomy. Turned out to be 2 benign ovarian cycts. And must be on the left because I don’t think he ever found my right ovary. I thought at the time that he couldn’t see it because the wand was puncturing a lung and my ovaries aren’t that high. Not that I exaggerate. ;) But all joking aside, as I was laying there I felt the beginning of the first panic attack. I got home to find no one there, and in a few minutes the rest of the family returned from a trip to Lowes picking up a new dishwasher. James kept asking me questions as he was swapping them out about what we did when we installed the original. “I don’t know. All I remember is we fought.” He kept asking and I kept giving that same answer because even though the circumstances were completely different, I was freaking out inside over the memory. Finally he said, “This isn’t like last time, and I’m not going to yell at you.” I responded, “I know. You’re sober and I’m sober. But I never dealt with that event.” I finally managed to calm down enough to switch out the wiring which, ironically, was the thing that turned the original install into such a huge fight. And everything went so smoothly. It was amazing. Yet, I still showed up to a meeting with my sponsor later in a panic attack. And thank goodness we were meeting that night!

But then the next day, I got double-teamed at work and told to grow a spine. I turned right back into an emotional 5 year old and shut down. Another thing happened the next day at work that triggered another panic attack on the way home. I remember thinking then, “I’ll wake up with a migraine tomorrow.” I did get to meet the Fonz that night which was just too cool. It would have been cooler if he’d held my hand like he did Petra. Just sayin’. And sure enough, I woke up with a migraine.

I had an appointment Saturday morning that I wasn’t going to let a migraine stop. It was something I didn’t want to do, but I could come up with no good reason not to do it, and God didn’t close that door. We had agreed on 45 min. I thought that would be too long, but we talked for like 3 hours. I don’t think I have ever felt that comfortable being that open and sharing with someone I barely knew. We both agreed that it was a God thing. To top it off, though I hadn’t yet taken anything for my migraine because I didn’t want to be half stoned out while there, there was no pain that whole time. I had trouble with speaking words, but that’s not unusual. After I left though? My head nearly exploded on me. Especially when I stopped at Food Lion. Another God thing.

And yesterday morning, I stood in the shower and broke down. I had that huge ugly cry that I needed last week after talking to my mom. I wondered at the time even as the sobs wracked through my body why I have such a hard time surrendering to grief and sorrow to this day. Why can’t I let go and be vulnerable around other people and especially my close friends and family? I mean, I know why. But why do I hang onto it after it had long since stopped being useful? I know the answer to that too. It’s frustrating.

It works if you work it

I always thought I knew what faith was even though I couldn’t explain it. Oh, I could quote scripture about it, but I just thought I understood it. That being said, I still don’t completely understand it, and can no more explain it other than by telling you what it isn’t.

I played with the worship team at church a few weeks ago, and our only rehearsal as a group was Sunday morning before the first service. They were all easy songs to play, and I had played all but one before, so I felt fairly confident that I could play without any major screwups. That confidence did not keep me from losing my place in Cornerstone in every single service. Even though I did just fine in rehearsal. However, a couple weeks prior we had done a song called Relentless, and in one of the last choruses, there are 2 separate parts being sung. The first time we did it 2 weeks prior, I was one of the 2 vocalists to be singing the second part. We hadn’t had a rehearsal before that Sunday either, and since I hadn’t practiced it, I missed the cue every.single.time. This time I had it. One of the ladies pointed out during rehearsal that she could hear me and I had it down. I said, “I practiced that so hard last week!” And I did. I put more practice time into nailing the vocals on that one chorus than guitar and vocals combined on the other songs. This led to a discussion about faith, and how faith isn’t faith until it’s put in action. You have to work it.

And that’s when I said, “It works if you work it.”

I first heard that phrase in Al-Anon in reference to the Al-Anon program. Which is nearly identical to the AA program from which it was derived. It was about a year and a half ago that I stepped into Al-Anon, and I can say with absolute certainty, I didn’t work the Al-Anon program. I went to meetings. I read the literature. I didn’t call anyone even though I had 2 phone lists. I was my own sponsor. So I stayed perpetually on the 1st step – “We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable.” I knew my life was unmanageable. There was no doubt about that. Powerless, though, I was not. Or so I thought.

I remember right before I started going to Al-Anon, I went to an open AA meeting with my husband. After the meeting he asked me what I thought and I said, “That is what church should be like. That is living out James 5:16.”

James 5:16 English Standard Version (ESV)
Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.

I am convinced that is the only way we can bear one another’s burdens.

Galatians 6:2 English Standard Version (ESV)
Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.

This is the essence of love. And it was love that got and kept me sober. A group of drunks who loved me until I could love myself. Strangers who walked with me one day at a time encouraging me to keep coming back. The woman I picked out to be my sponsor that I didn’t have the nerve to actually ask – who reached out to me and helped me pluck up the courage I had sat on for 2 weeks. God doing for me what I could not do for myself. But I still had to work at it.

I had to go to meetings. I had to read my literature. I had to call my sponsor – especially when I didn’t want to. I had to listen to her tell me what I didn’t want to hear and do what she suggested whether I wanted to or not. Sometimes she pissed me off. But I followed her. I followed her because she had already been down this road and knew the way. I followed her because God told me he had been sending people to help me when I cried out to him asking why he hadn’t helped me, and therefore I chose to trust that he put her in my life. I work the program, and it works even though I don’t work it perfectly.

Ephesians 2:8-10 English Standard Version (ESV)
For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works,which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

Faith isn’t something we manufacture ourselves. It’s not a bargaining means to get God to grant our wishes. It is given to us to do what God would have us do whether his will is for us to act or be still. He gives us faith for His purpose and His glory. That is why it works if you work it. Because it’s not about you.

Happy New Year (at the end of January)

January is practically over. Where has the month gone? I mean it seems like just yesterday I was complaining about how long it was taking to get to January 20. That is another post that I might eventually finish and publish. Aw, what the heck. That was my 1 year mark. 1 whole dang year sober.

I deliberately didn’t do a 2015 goals post. No sense in setting myself up for failure. That isn’t to say I don’t have any goals, but I know some of them aren’t going to happen until spring. Like running consistently. I did, however, run New Year’s Day morning. I did another run on my own and then did a run with Karyn like we used to do back in the day. You know, I knew I missed running with her, but I didn’t really realize how much I missed it until that run. And I got to see Molly again! It was a short visit, but it was so great to see her face to face again.

I’m back with the worship team at church. I had really missed playing and singing with them, and, well, it just seems like more fun now. Probably because I’m not so stressed out in general as I was for a while.

Jamie has her driver’s license and her Granny’s car, so I have a go-fer now. And she drives herself to her appointments. And takes Chad and James to theirs. And makes me carsick when I ride with her. So now she can get a J-O-B. So can James. And Chad.

I successfully completed my chiropractic treatment plan. Oh man. It is so nice to not wake up with a headache every single day. Granted, I woke up with one this morning, but I’ve been sick all week, and it’s not just my head that hurts. Anyway, I only have to go once a month now.

On the subject of fewer appointments, I have mentally and emotionally recovered enough that I only have to see my therapist every 3 weeks. She really pisses me off sometimes when she tells me what I don’t want to hear…or address. ;)

Speaking of addressing things, my diet. Ugh. It got bad over Christmas and subsequently so did the pain in my joints. And I got so glutened. So I will be cooking today in an effort to reduce the processed food I am ingesting. And saying no to candy, though I would like to know what I did with the Dove bar I bought last night that seems to have not made it from Lowes to my house.

Amber is pregnant again. That cat is such a ho.