I Am Not Anonymous

Who I Am

A few weeks ago I received an email from a writer for Dr. Oz’s website The Good Life. She had discovered my blog and wanted to interview me for a story she was doing for Alcohol Awareness Month in April. She felt my recovery journey would resonate with many of their readers, the majority being women. My initial response was surprise, gratitude – and fear.

Those who know me are aware of my story and while I have written about my experience here on my blog, I have always had a sense of security knowing that my audience is fairly small; that I had some (realistic or not) control over who knew about my journey and recovery from alcoholism.

For some, I suppose it would be an easy decision. I mean, come on – it’s Dr. freakin’ Oz! For better or worse, he’s probably the most well known Dr. in the world thanks to Oprah and daytime television. But, for me, I was hesitant to have my story profiled on such a large medium. You see, I’m really happy living my little life on our little farm here in Oregon. Yes, I’m open with my story, but I never set out to be the poster girl for “stay at home moms who are recovering alcoholics.”

I questioned how much attention I really wanted. Because, really, there are times I’d like to crawl under a rock and leave it all behind me. To not be known for what I used to be, but known for who I am now. But, that’s just it. I am who I am today because of my past. And, after talking it over with my husband and going through all the maybes and maybe nots, I realized that this was way bigger than me. In fact, it wasn’t about me at all. This was about glorifying God. My story is His story. I’m but a messenger. And, when I began looking at it that way, it made my decision easy. Of course, I would share HIS story of faith, love, forgiveness and redemption.

Some may say, “But wait, aren’t you supposed to be anonymous? Aren’t you supposed to be hiding behind the tradition of anonymity?” And, my response to that would be, “Who am I helping by being anonymous?” We are taught “You are only as sick as your secrets” yet so many of us choose to keep our sobriety secret out of respect to an outdated tradition. For fear of what others will think, say or do.

Sharing your truth is a personal decision. For me, God made that decision for me when I got sober. It wasn’t anything I did to bring me out of the despair of alcoholism – believe me, I had tried before. It was by the grace of God that I went to that first meeting, took my first coin and continue to wake up each morning sober, and grateful.

I will continue to speak my truth – His truth. And, by the grace of God others will experience the gift of sobriety.

Please click here if you would like to read the article featured on Dr. Oz’s website.

 

Disclaimer: I was not paid or endorsed for my story. My ultimate wish is that other women like myself will find courage to seek help.

Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way

Overwhelmed Mom

Yep, that pretty much sums up my week. Fortunately, I made do with a latte and a couple of O’Doul’s. Let me give you a little recap.

Friday:

Finally, the hubs and I get to celebrate our belated anniversary while the in-laws take the kids for the ENTIRE night. And…not so fast. Just as I’m dropping the kids off that afternoon, we discover head lice on my daughter. I’m immediately in denial. My mother-in-law and I are trying to convince my father-in-law they’re fruit flies – nope not happening. We put four on a wet paper towel and book it to Walgreens for confirmation. As I’m standing at the pharmacy counter debating with the two young pharmacists whether these “bugs” are or are not lice, my best friend who I had planned to have afternoon coffee and cake with, walks up to me and hands me a piece of my favorite chocolate cake. Seriously, friend of the year right there. But, now I find myself with a baggie of what we have now determined are lice in one hand and chocolate cake in the other. Something is very wrong with this picture.

Fast forward. We’re home. While my mother-in-law starts the all-consuming lice treatment on my daughter, I frantically tear through the house stripping anything that’s not bolted down. Quickly, piles of bedding and pillows start accumulating; the washer and dryer are going full speed; stuffed animals are being quarantined; dolls are being stuffed in freezers; never has there been a time I’m so grateful for my OCD behavior.

Obviously, our Friday night plans have drastically changed. I call my husband. It’s action time. There’s no way I can dry ALL of this stuff. Is there a laundromat nearby? Do laundromat’s still exist? Yes, yes they do! Thank you, Jesus! We have a little over an hour for hubs to dry four bags of pillows and comforters before basketball practice. Yes, we can do this! Thirty minutes later I get a text and attached pic of hubs and exploded pillow on the floor. Apparently, two of the pillows didn’t like the dryers. He assures me he’s giving the “regulars” quite a show. I’m now laughing so hard tears are streaming down my face.

Wash continues. I treat myself just in the off chance those little suckers are looking for a new home. Seriously. I can’t believe this is happening!

Saturday:

50 loads of wash later, I’m feeling like we might have this under control. I have Googled every piece of head lice info that exists. Friends have given me their steam cleaners and friendly advice and “This too shall pass” comfort. I’m not so sure.

Honestly, this day is a blur.

Sunday:

Morning wakeup with the dreaded daily “nit picking.” I feel like a mother monkey picking bugs off her young – but I’m not eating them. The fact that I’m picking bugs out of my daughter’s hair means nothing to me anymore. It’s just a simple fact.

Highlight of my day – meeting another sober blogger for coffee and shopping. Much needed break and more assurance that I will, in fact, survive this too. I’m honestly starting to think we’re the only family who hasn’t dealt with this dreaded parasite. Is it like childbirth? Horribly painful, but then you forget all about it? Weird.

Monday:

I have notified everyone that needs to be notified and they have promised a thorough check at school. Another before school “nit picking” session and I’m feeling pretty confidant.

Now, that my head cold is in full swing I’m looking forward to a day of rest. Not so fast. An hour after drop-off, I get the dreaded call. More nits. Come and pick daughter up. Nooooo!

It’s time. Time for the dreaded mayonnaise treatment. As I spread mayonnaise through my daughter’s hair, all I can think about is how I might never want to eat a sandwich again with this particular mayonnaise. Then it’s plastic wrap around her head and wait three hours, which for a nine-year-old is practically an eternity. But, I’m determined to smother these suckers. And, to make her feel better I assure her that people do this all the time for silky soft hair. Heck, it’s practically like going to a spa.

While she’s enjoying her spa treatment, I strip the bedding – again. And, vacuum – again. Seriously, this house is freakin’ spotless!

Tuesday:

I’m officially exhausted. I. Need. Rest.  No news is good news. Just in case, I do yet another treatment on myself. I may die of insecticide poisoning, but at least I won’t have lice. Just trying to stay positive.

Wednesday:

Kind of “normal” day. Starting to feel really confidant I’ve got these suckers beat. Not finding many nits in our daily head checking and life is semi-routine again. Okay, I’ve got this. I. Will. Survive.

Thursday:

Normal morning. Head check is good. A few here and there, but all in all looking up.

Hubs and I make an impromptu date for lunch. If we can’t manage dinner, lunch at the local Chinese restaurant will have to do. Maybe we’ll do a little shopping after. We’re alone and it’s a miracle!

And, then the dreaded call. More nits. Come and get your daughter. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry. I’m totally and completely defeated. I can’t handle this. Out of everything I’ve gone through, this might be what ultimately sends me off the deep end. Maybe I should just have hubs drive me to the State Hospital right now. But, no, they might have lice there. Am I safe anywhere?!

Pick daughter up. Yes, there are more. I get a thorough tutorial on how to go through every strand of hair, which I thought I was doing but apparently not to the degree needed. This is going to be a long day.

Once home, I get my supplies out. Well lit area? Check. Wet paper towel (to wipe nits on)? Check. Hair pins? Check. New movie on Kindle to keep daughter occupied? Check. Gummy bears? Check. Because, gummy bears just make everything better.

Two hours and one bag of gummy bears later, I’m feeling like a bad ass nit picker – if there is such a thing. Those guys don’t know who they’re messing with. I. Will. Eradicate. You.

One more lice treatment, two loads of wash and a big ol’ prayer that this is it. The end.

And, I’m reminded for the millionth time that being a mom is by far the hardest job that I’ll ever have…and this too shall pass.

 

 

 

The Gift of Plan B

IMG_5751

So…it’s been a long time. And, I’ve completely neglected this blog, but I’d like to think it was for good reason. In the beginning of sobriety, we often wonder how life will go on. How will we function without the daily drinks or glass (or um, bottle) of wine? How will we handle social situations? How will we ever make up for all the harm and destruction we have caused? We slowly see the need for a new normal, but the reality of it being long-term is terrifying. And, then we start to question if it’s all really worth it. Wouldn’t it be easier to go back to our old normal, the normal we were so used to and comfortable with? But, we know we can’t if we want to keep our families, our marriage, our children – our life.

If we’re one of the lucky ones, we begin to reluctantly accept the new normal. Like a child taking their first steps, we slowly, carefully venture into the unknown. We fall, we skin our knees, but we continue until we gain our balance and walk slowly, but steady. And, then the day comes along when we realize we’re running.

It’s not the path we intended to take, but it somehow got us where we needed to be – where we were meant to be all along.

On August 28th, I celebrated three years of sobriety. The day came and went without a lot of excitement or acknowledgment. Most of all, I felt peace and contentment.

Over the last month, we have moved to what we consider our “dream house.” It’s an older home on two acres in the Oregon valley with room for the kids to run and for us to have a big garden and raise a few animals. During the first week we were here, my husband and I were standing in the kitchen and he turned to me, and hugging me said, “This is the happiest I’ve ever been since we’ve been married.”

I will never forget his words or how they made me feel – totally and completely loved. All of the pain, anger and hurt I once caused and felt has been replaced with a love I never knew possible.

Every day I thank God for my plan B and this new normal I was blessed to have.

Happy, Joyous and Free

Christmas 14

Happy, joyous and free. To be honest, I never thought I would use those words to describe myself, but that’s how I described myself in a meeting today. Sometimes, it’s even hard for me to believe because it’s such a far cry from where I was three years ago at this time. It was my last holiday season drinking and I was miserable. I was so angry – lashing out at everyone around me; picking fights with those who loved me. The more I tried to control things, the worse they got. Despite the love that surrounded me, I had never felt so lonely before.

I don’t like remembering those times, in fact, it’s painful to think back to what I was like then. That’s not the person I want to remember, but I know she’s part of my story. Because, without her, I wouldn’t be where I am today. How did I get here? How could “that” person turn into the person I am today? The only answer I have is by God’s grace. When I was at my lowest point, God’s love and mercy was the only thing that could break through the hard shell I had created around me. Slowly, He put people, programs and a church in my life that would eventually build me up and bring me back from the depths of loneliness and fear I had been living in for so long.

Today, I’m at peace. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or the next day, but it doesn’t matter because I have faith in a God who turned that lonely, frightened girl into the happy, joyous and free woman I am today. I’m done fighting and lashing out at those around me. I’m done trying to control my life. It’s not mine to control anyway. I wake up each morning and ask for God’s guidance and direction. I give it all over to Him. And, by doing so I’m completely and totally free.

Merry Christmas, friends! Peace be with you!

 

The Little Things

As I sit here on day four of post-surgery recovery, I’m tired but I’m so grateful for some of the little things, like taking a hot shower (alone), shaving my legs, going pee like a normal person without a catheter attached to me and the texts, calls and meals from family and friends.

I’m grateful for my husband who took over all the household duties and selflessly cared for me, which included emptying my “pee bag” and holding it while I took a shower; for my children who were so sweet and caring (and quiet) when I first came home from the hospital; for the first nurse I saw as I came out of surgery who happened to be a friend from my recovery program who kissed my forehead and reassured me everything was okay (definitely a God shot!).

I’m grateful for the message I received today from one of my doctors telling me my results were benign. I’m grateful that I could take my pain medication as prescribed and have no desire to take more than I needed, which can be a major issue for those of us in recovery regardless if we were previously addicted to them or not.

I’m grateful for my God who is with me in not just the good times, but the times when I’m scared or uncertain of what’s to come. Who gives me strength and peace in knowing that His will for my life has already been determined. I am not in control.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this blog. As you may have noticed, I haven’t been writing as much lately. I’ve felt a distance growing, which makes me think it’s time to bring this chapter to a close. Maybe I’ll start a new blog that focuses on something different. Maybe I’ll just focus on life as it happens.

I know this; my main focus is being the best mom and wife I can be. My sobriety has made that possible. My children are getting older and I want to be present for every moment possible.

More than anything, I want to focus on those little things that often get overlooked in our efforts to always be “doing” or “going” or “making.” I feel the need to be still.

God bless you on your journey.

 

 

 

 

The Truth Behind My Gym Clothes

And, the hits keep coming on the health front around here. I’m convinced this is God’s way of reminding me that this is not my eternal home and complacency is not what this life is all about. Just when I thought we were out of the woods (no pun intended) after Tyler’s surgery, the tables were turned.

Okay, so admittedly, I ignored some symptoms that I shouldn’t have – lesson learned. I was so focused on Tyler’s surgery and recovery that I put off going to the doctor when I really should have. So, after a routine annual exam with my doctor last month, I was referred to not one, but two specialists. Over the past three weeks, I have had a pelvic ultrasound, abdominal CT scan and blood work. I have been to my OBGYN, a rehab specialist (for my neck) and a urologist. All of this has confirmed that I have two kidney stones, a faulty seal on my ureter (I didn’t even know that word existed before all this), a uterine polyp and a messed up neck muscle. In two weeks, I start PT for my neck and in a few weeks I’ll have a double whammy surgery for the stones, seal and polyp. And, ironically it will all take place at the same surgical center where Tyler had his neck surgery. Really?!?!

And, of course, all of this is happening in the last few weeks of school and t-ball season. It’s times like these, I look at Tyler and say, “Okay, what gives?” And, it’s also times like these I have to put it all in perspective. None of it’s life threatening and in the grand scheme of things I’m still pretty healthy. And, despite it all I can find the humor in it – thank God for the gift of laughter!

Speaking of finding the humor in things, there’s nothing like sitting in the waiting room at the urologist’s office. As I looked around and observed the 70+ couples sitting together, I couldn’t help but think to myself, “So this is what Tyler and I have to look forward to. Morning dates at the urologist’s office. Perfect.” Sitting there in my gym clothes (aka I’m too lazy to get dressed in real clothes), I have to admit I felt pretty good about myself considering my fellow patients. Well, the joke was on me, because once I sat down in the young doctor’s office and he started talking about broken ureter seals, kidney stones and oh by the way, do you run? And, I say no because I have bursitis in my knee and my neck’s messed up, and oh can you remove the stones while my OBGYN is removing my polyp – yeah, I realize that the gym clothes are a total mask to how I’m really doing inside. Ugh. Another lesson learned…again. Looks can be deceiving.

Driving home, I flashed back to my drinking days and I was reminded how my gym clothes were always a great cover up when I was drinking. Because, really, anyone who’s in decent shape and wearing gym clothes could never be an alcoholic, right? Um, wrong. Those of us who try to cover it up are sometimes the worse.

So, now I’m just laying it all out for you. No more hiding behind gym clothes or anything else. This is it. Life goes on and we deal with those struggles and obstacles that pop up along the way. We don’t drink; we don’t hide; we just take it one day, one minute and sometimes even one second at a time.

Today, I am SO (scream it on a mountain top) grateful to be sober and to have a faith in a God who will always carry me on His shoulders through it all…until I reach my eternal home.

 

 

 

 

Not So Bright and Shiny After All

After my baptism, I was convinced I would wake up the next morning radiating from the eternal glow I had. I was positive people would see the outward difference because, after all, I was totally free of all my past sins. In other words, I was squeaky clean.

But, the next morning brought the same early wakeup from the kids (earlier because it was Easter morning) and the same zombie-like walk to the coffee maker. The only thing I can compare it to is when you get married. You have this vision that marriage is going to completely change you overnight. But, like every other morning, you wake up and there you are. Same person, different last name (if you changed it). Of course, I’m simplifying this, but for the most part that’s how it felt.

Tyler asked me the next day, “Well, do you feel any different?” The thing is, I didn’t feel different, I felt complete. I felt like my whole entire life and all the experiences good and bad had led me to that perfect moment of my baptism. That’s what’s so great about this journey we’re all on. You never know where you’re going to end up, but at some point we can step back and say, “Ah, now I understand what it was all about.” If I had never come to that point in my life where I had sank to my lowest of lows, I wouldn’t be here today writing about this. Every joy; every sorrow; every disappointment led me to this place.

Yet, going forward, I was determined to make this new bright and shiny self last as long as possible. But, being human and all, it didn’t last as long as I wanted. As Tyler and the kids and I were driving down the street, a truck turned directly in front of us making Tyler swerve and before I knew it my arm was up and I was shaking my middle finger at them. Damn – I mean darn. Well, that was that. Tyler looked at me and said something like, “I guess that was short lived.”

So, I go forward being my imperfect self and continue to ask God for forgiveness, knowing that He knows my totally imperfect heart all too well.

XO

 

Drinkers Wanted; Believers Needed

I drove by a bar the other day that I drive by on a regular basis and they had changed their sign to read, “Drinkers Wanted.” I chuckled a little bit because I would’ve been all over that when I was drinking, and then I got a little sad. I thought about my life then compared to my life now. And, I thought about all the people out there who are still searching for that “Drinkers Wanted” sign above anything else in their life.

Forgive me if this post reads like a stream of consciousness. I haven’t written in a long time, and I feel like the words are coming out faster than I can type them. For ease of reading, I’ll try to condense my topics.

  1. Thank you for all your thoughts, prayers and well wishes for my husband, Tyler, and his recovery from neck surgery. He is healing up nice and this morning got the go ahead from his doc that he can start driving again. I’m happy and he’s happy because it means my duty as wife/taxi driver are over and he gets his freedom back. But, in all honestly, I’m kind of sad. As frustrating as it was at times (hectic mornings out of routine, driving twice as much as I would normally drive and shorter work days for him), I’m going to miss our extra time together and our morning chats after dropping the kids off at school. This was one of those lessons in seeing the positive in the perceived negative (which I could always use more of in my life!).
  2. Life is B-U-S-Y right now (which explains not writing more). I had NO idea what I was getting myself (actually, our family) into when I signed both kids up for t-ball this spring. I’m not kidding when I say that almost every day/night of the week we have either practice or a game. It’s by far the busiest this family has ever been. A couple years ago when I was drinking this kind of busy would’ve sent me over the edge. Actually, back up. When I was drinking I probably would’ve never even signed my kids up for t-ball because it would’ve seriously infringed on my drinking schedule. So, fast forward to today and I’m loving it! Yes, we’re crazy busy and I barely have time to think and I sometimes feel like I’m in the car ALL day, but I’m happy and I know these days won’t last forever. One day, my kids will walk out the door, waving goodbye and I’ll wonder where the time went. So, each day I wake up and brace myself for another crazy busy day and hope for the best.
  3. I’m sponsoring someone for the first time, which has been an amazing experience so far. I write and blog to help others and pass on what I have been so freely given, but it’s completely different (as many of you know) when you’re working with someone face-to-face. I see so much of myself in her when I first began this journey and I just hope and pray I can be an example of what is possible through recovery and working the steps.
  4. Holy Week. I have so many emotions and thoughts running through my head right now. This Saturday night I will be baptized for the first time ever at our church’s Saturday night Easter Vigil. As I’ve written before, this has been a long and personal journey for me. And, it truly is just that, a journey. I am reminded of so many years past, but I’m especially reminded of four years ago on the Easter Vigil. It was my grandpa’s 90th birthday and friends and family from near and far had come to celebrate with him. I started drinking early in the day and never stopped. Eventually, my husband put me in the car and drove me to our hotel (with our kids) where I passed out on the bed. I briefly remember my husband trying to wake me, but I was completely out of it. The next morning I woke up to discover that without knowing who got what, he had assembled the kids’ Easter baskets because I was too drunk to do it. Up until then, my husband was one of the few who knew how bad my drinking had gotten, but after that night it was no longer a secret. It still pains me to think about that night and the shame and guilt I felt the next morning. But, it’s those memories that make my upcoming baptism mean even more to me. I know those moments and incidents are not what defines me. I know that change is possible and forgiveness sets you free. And, what means more to me than almost anything is that my grandpa who just turned 94 has been one of my biggest supporters throughout my recovery.

Today, I am humble and grateful for this messy, beautiful life I have been given. If you’re at the beginning of your journey, know that despite the shame, guilt and desperation you may be feeling now, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Just give the journey a chance.

Happy Easter, friends – oh, and play ball!

IMG_3246

When Nothing Makes Sense

Give Me Faith

I’m sorry if this post seems disorganized and rambling, but I’m feeling a need to purge my thoughts and sometimes they’re not such a tidy, pretty little package (as much as I’d like them to be). It’s like diarrhea of the mind, with thoughts firing back and forth until my head feels like it’s going to explode (sorry for the visual).

My hope is that I can empty it all out and make room for more peaceful, loving and kind thoughts. Thoughts filled with faith and hope, especially during this first Lenten season that I am participating.

What’s on my mind? Grief. The loss of people I love, people who are no longer here; my husband’s upcoming back surgery that puts a desperation and fear into my thoughts that I’ve never experienced before; my own mortality and what that looks like; the recent tragic death of a woman from our church who served on the Pastoral Council with my husband who was shot and killed by her 17-year-old son; the fear when I think about the world that my children are growing up in and the desperation I feel to change it, to do SOMETHING to make it just a little bit better.

My husband called me yesterday afternoon while I was shopping in Portland with my five-year-old son to tell me about, Michelle, the woman who had been killed by her teenage son. Not only did he kill his mother, but he attempted to kill his father who remains in critical condition. As I drove the hour home with my son sitting behind me playing his Leapster, I wondered how such an innocent child could grow up to do something so horrible and inconceivable. Yes, these things happen all the time, but WHY? What happened to that young boy to make him do such a thing? As with so many families and children, everything seemed fine on the outside. Yet, obviously, there was something horribly wrong on the inside.

It’s times like these, I look up and want to scream to God, “Why?!” My husband who just turned 40, who has been the epitome of health his entire life, is having major back surgery in two weeks. I have watched him suffer silently over the past five months, in chronic pain from the shooting pain and numbness that has taken over the right side of his body. A man who has always been afraid to take more than two Advil at a time who is now taking heavy pain meds throughout the day, barely masking the intense pain. My husband who has been a pillar of strength for me throughout our entire marriage who is now the one in need of my strength. His humbleness is beyond anything I could ever hope for myself.

Yes I am worried; yes I am fearful; yes I want to know why. But, I know in my heart of hearts that there’s no answer.

You know, my entire life up until I got sober I was a glass half-empty type person. Ask anyone. I always feared the worse. I always expected the worse. I always admired those glass half-full people. How could they be THAT positive? I know now. I know they had a faith that I never had. A faith that, despite the pain and suffering, it would be okay. It might not turn out how they expected or how they imagined it would, but it would be okay in the end.

I know that family who has just experienced the most horrific tragedy imaginable will continue to suffer greatly. But, I know because of their immense faith in a loving and just God that they will be okay. They will go on and inspire others with their strength and determination.

I know the next two months will be challenging for our family as my husband goes through surgery and recovery. There will be days of immense exhaustion and frustration, but it will be okay. It will be okay because, together, our faith will be stronger than any feelings of desperation and fear that attempt to bring us down.

As I go forward in this Lenten season, I pray that God opens my heart to greater faith, hope, love and kindness.

Let’s all just strive to be kind to each other. I am reminded daily that we never know what someone else is going through. Your words or the way you look at someone could make or break them.

I constantly remind myself of what my sponsor always tells me, “We are all God’s children.”

Peace.

Cake, God and 18 Months Sober

18 Months

I had every intention of writing this post yesterday (which was my 18 month sobriety birthday), but it was a LONG day and after a dinner out with Tyler and a piece of my favorite cake, I was out like a light!

18 months. 18 freakin’ months without a single drink. Wow. In many ways it seems like yesterday and in others it seems like an eternity since I took that last sip of beer at our local Applebee’s. I had already had one relapse and despite the anguish and hurt it had caused me and my family, I still wasn’t ready to surrender. It was a hot summer day in August and I had just picked the kids up from going to the state fair with my in laws. There was tons of traffic and it was getting close to dinner time, so I decided to take a detour and get an early dinner at a nearby Applebee’s. I knew before I stepped in the door, that I was going to have a drink. Just one. No one would know. My kids were still too young to realize what was going on. It’s just a beer. So, as we ordered dinner I quickly looked around me (to see if there was anyone I knew) and ordered a Blue Moon beer. Perfect for a hot day. Our waitress returned with my beer and I looked around again before taking a big gulp.

As I took another sip and looked around, I felt embarrassed and guilty. As I sat there with my 3-year-old little boy and 5-year-old little girl, I suddenly wondered what the hell I was doing. Was it worth it? The shame, guilt and embarrassment? The lies? And, that was it. Right then and there with a beer at an Applebee’s, I decided I was done. It was the most uneventful drinking experience I had ever had, but I knew it was over. That part of my life was over and I was finally – FINALLY – ready to move on.

I drive by that Applebee’s multiple times throughout the week and it always sits there as a reminder of that day and that life-altering decision. That day, without fully knowing it at the time, I turned it all over to God. Without fully knowing or understanding, and without the exact words, I mentally said, “I can’t do this anymore. I need help.” I was tired of fighting; tired of hiding; I was just plain tired. And, I knew that I couldn’t do it by myself anymore. And, in my desperation and exhaustion, I decided the only thing I had left was God. I had been hiding from Him and pushing Him away for so long; I honestly didn’t know if He would still be there. But, He was. He was just waiting; patiently waiting for me to say, “Okay, God. I give up. If you’re so great, show me what you can do with this mess I’ve created.” And, yes, I gave Him a little attitude because, to be honest, I was still skeptical.

As I sit here today, there is no doubt that He was there; listening to that broken, stubborn and frightened woman. He took that mess and turned it into a walking, talking miracle. And, yes, I consider where I am, who I am and what I am a true miracle. I don’t pretend to know who God is, what God is and where God is. But, I know for me He is more real than anything in this entire world. He is the only reason I am who I am today and I will forever praise His name without shame, embarrassment or fear of what others might think. I lived in fear and embarrassment for a long time; afraid of what others thought about me. But, no more. I stand strong and proud of the woman I am today. I have done many things in my life that I’m ashamed of, but those things don’t define me. I am defined by who I choose to be today.

Today, I am so grateful for this journey. I am grateful for that moment in Applebee’s; for my sweet, beautiful children who sit next to me as I write this; for my husband who looks at me now with more love and admiration than ever before; for my family and friends who have loved me and shown me the true meaning of forgiveness and grace; for those who have guided me down the path of sobriety; for the humility I have experienced along the way; and thank God for the Old Fashioned cake at Gerry Frank’s Konditorei for getting me through those first few months of sobriety when all I wanted was chocolate cake!

Today is a good day. A very good day to be alive and sober.