Resolutions

I got to thinking this morning about the things I want to accomplish next year. Days like this were made for promises. When I was drinking the last/first day of the month was the perfect day to swear to myself that today is the day that I quit drinking. A fresh start. A month unsoiled by hangovers and blackouts. I was saved!

Until.

Quitting drinking was always my New Year's resolution. I cannot remember a year that I didn't make an agreement with myself that this was my year: THE YEAR I GOT SOBER. And then I would get hammered on New Year's Eve and blam. All bets were off. I was suspicious that because I started the year hungover I would have to spend the whole year hungover. That was why I couldn't stop. I'd dealt my hand that one night. Forces at work beyond my control. I'd have to wait until next year. Booze logic y'all.

Two reasons I finally quit the day I did: a-) I was so hungover I could not get out of bed until almost 1:00 in the afternoon and b-) December 7th is the day my oldest son was due. This felt like an opportunity to find myself; a whole brand new fresh start. Tired old sick old used up me. Born.

Resolution is defined in so many cool ways that relate to sobriety. Complex to simple. Act of answering: solving. The act of determining. From dissonance to consonance. The settling of a pathological state. Expression of intent. The point in a literary work where the main dramatic complication is worked out. The ability to make recognizable the individual parts of an object. A measure of the sharpness of an image.

I think resolution might actually mean sober. 

So now, along with the thousandty things sobriety has brought me already I can add fresh New Year's resolutions. Here they are:

Run another marathon in October
Write thank you cards
Control spending
Chip away at debt
Have a real, week long family vacation
Monthly house organizing project

And...my newest and best one: STAY SOBER.

I'm certain I would love to hear yours too. I can pretty much guarantee it. :)

HIGH FIVE! Sunday 12.30.12

Once again, here's where you can post about something or things that was high five-able about your week. It/they can be big or small or even medium. And you can include your days/weeks/months/years sober too. And I will shower you with friendly words of encouragement.

Since I'm here right now, I'll go first.

Some people will say I'm crazy, and if you did, well...that might be like you knew me. Lucky for me crazy means silly and off the wall instead of I need an army of therapists. (Hmmm. I might, however, need those too.) BUT! I gave up sugar this week. I ate too many Christmas goodies and I was getting a bit doughy. (wahn wahn wahn... ba dum bum)

Sugar was making me feel like shit. I, however, just kept right on shoving cookies into my mouth night and day. (No need to wait for 5 o'clock for cookies!) I'd have two or three when I got home from work. Then four or five after dinner. Then another three or five before I went up to bed. (*note: I go to bed about 8:30 or 9:00. Not a lot of time between dinner and heading upstairs. I was out of control!) The wine was gone, and in it's place...

I started to feel like this:

 (Impetus behind cookie bingeing: I read in one of my I-got-sober memoirs that she ate candy in bed every night and it helped. So this was my excuse. It sounds familiar, right? Weeeeelllllll....other people can drink a few times a week/eat candy in bed every night and be fine...I'm sure it's OK for me too.) But myself was not buying it.

Y'all, there's this part of me now that sticks up for me. It whispers, "Hey. Hold up. Don't do that. That will make you feel like crap- in your bod and in your head." And then there's this part of me that listens. They cooperate to make sure I keep feeling good. Oh.

Whoa.

I had to sit here for a while and think on that. Twenty-four days sober today. High five.

Recipe Post: Cocoa Walnut Date Balls (can be sugar free if you want them to be. Wow! A poem!)

I ate all the Christmas cookies I could get my hands on this holiday. I told myself nine cookies were fine, at least I wasn't on my ninth glass of wine. Now that Christmas is over I'm getting a handle on that tiny fiasco. These little guys are delicious. Great for breakfast, snack, or dessert after dinner with some hot tea, an afghan, and a book.

Cocoa Walnut Date Balls

2 cups walnuts (use any kind of nuts you like, and mix them if you want too. I just think chocolate and walnuts are one of the most delicious things in the history of man so there you go.) You could use peanuts. I don't because I do the whole Paleo thing. (unless I'm downing handfuls of Christmas cookies)
2 tbsp. unsweetened cocoa powder. I use Chatfield's.
2/3 c. Medjool dates
3 tbsp. toasted shredded coconut (optional)
2 tbsp. honey (optional)
1/2 tsp. vanilla
pinch or 2 of kosher salt

Pulse nuts in a food processor until a fine-ish meal forms. Add other ingredients. Process until combined. Mixture should hold together when you pinch it between your fingers. Dump mixture on parchment paper. Coat hands with oil. (I use coconut oil) Grab a bit of the mixture (enough to make a bouncy ball sized ball) and push it together. It won't really "roll"... you just squash it together in a sort of roundish shape. Refrigerate.

Fine-ish nut meal.

All the rest of the ingredients. Just toss 'em all in.

Mixed up. Much like me when I was drunk. Luckily this stuff is mixed up in a good way.

Parchment paper is one of the best things in the entire world. 

TA DA!!! Yummy deliciousness awaits.

First Recipe Post: Root Veggies with Mint

One thing I love to do is cook. Unfortunately I used to use that as an excuse to drink loads of wine. Now that I'm not drinking anymore I am having more fun being creative in the kitchen and not being wasted by the time everything is finished. Which means I actually want to eat it and not just pound more wine. So...drum roll! Here's the first recipe!

Root Veggies with Mint

Root Veggies of your choice. For this particular endeavor I used two largish beets and a rutabaga. Unless it was a turnip. Be adventurous! Carrots, parsnips, even sweet potatoes will be yummy.
1/2 c. fresh mint
1 or 2 tbsp. olive oil
1 tbsp. balsamic vinegar
kosher salt to taste
clementines (optional)

Boil water. Add your root veggies. Cook until tender. (I also like to roast mine in the oven. Either method is tasty.) Let cool. Then...
Peel them. I guess you could peel them first. I just always do it 2nd since the peel just slides right off.
Cut them up. Cubes, semi circles- whatever. The world is your oyster.
Toss with the mint, olive oil, balsamic, and salt. Use more or less of all of these depending on your own tastes. Add some clementines if you have 27,000 of them almost molding in the fruit bowl like I do.

Beets and mystery veggie peeled and ready to chop.

3D mint. I grew this. Mint never gives up. Even when it's 28 degrees.

Ready to toss together. That wooden spoon is the first gift I ever gave my husband. 

Ready to eat! Remember if you use beets they will make everything magenta. Including your hands. 

The Voice

I'm not sure when I picked up the voice in my head that runs a pretty much constant commentary starting when I wake up. Oh, wait. That's me. So maybe I'm really wondering when I got to be such a damn downer. I don't really notice until I'm peeing first thing in the morning feeling a little grumpy and I suddenly think, "Why am I in a bad mood already? Nothing has even happened yet!" I have to chuckle to myself since it's so stupid to wake up mad at nothing, but it's annoying. Ooops. I'm being a downer again.

That voice makes mountains out of molehills. Mountains that I can climb all day until I have blisters on my poor little soul. That voice can take a small burst of impatience and turn it into me being a terrible mother in my head for hours. Me: "Everything is fine. Everyone gets impatient." Voice: "No they don't. You suck you suck you suck you suck." That voice was the thing that told me to drink, too. Me: "Drinking makes me miserable." Voice: "So what? Just go get wine and you'll feel so much better. You're drunk you're drunk you're drunk you're drunk."

I used to ask my me voice to get stronger when I was running. I would beg me to step up and save me from the voice- don't listen don't listen don't listen don't listen. When I was running I would feel so strong and capable and me would step right up and say "We've got this" and I would believe it until 5 o'clock or so when the voice would push me aside and suddenly I'm at the store buying cigarettes and overpriced beer. Before you knew it the kids would be in front of the TV and I would be in the backyard smoking with my first quick drink chillin' on the air conditioner unit. I always liked it in the summer when the A/C would come on and blow the smoke away so the neighbors wouldn't know I was smoking. A forty-one year old woman hiding in the trees.

In a moment of clarity I realized that the reason this voice probably started was when I was waking up hungover and guilty and I had the constant tape on replay "You suck you suck you suck you suck". Twenty years of that can be hard to undo. I know that. I really know it. I know in my heart I have to be gentle with my breakable new self; I'm only twenty-one days in for goodness sake. Give "me" a break. But sometimes I feel so good, so real, that when the voice pops up I feel so surprised: "Oh...you're still here?" And isn't it odd that the part of me that's doing the healthy thing feels bad, instead of the part that's wanting me to self destruct?

I hate that fucking voice. Now I just need to learn not to listen.

Feeling Stuck

I'm having the "I'm about to have a revelation" feeling. Like my soul has it's head stuck in the porch railing bars, but oh look! the fire department is on the way with butter and a ladder. This little girls' name is Tong Tong, and she was trying to sneak off to play when she got stuck. The metaphor here is suitable. 

But look, you can see the fireman in the background. She fucked up, but here's someone to rescue her. 

I am my own fireman. 

Twenty-one days sober today. 

Present

Merry Christmas Y'all!

I'm nineteen days sober today. It seems like a lifetime. I woke up this morning and felt so deep down grateful that I'm not hungover today. Really deep down grateful.

It's no surprise to be writing about sobriety as a gift, the best gift. No one can tell you or make you, you just have to one day wake up believing that you are going to be able to do it. And then tell yourself over and over and over and over that you are doing it. And then it gets easier, and then whoops, harder- then OK again. When I wake up in the morning and I don't have that awful feeling of dread, dead tired and sad- I just know, for that moment, that I can make it one more day, one more week or two- that I can string those days together until they become a collection and starting over seems so stupid. It feels good to say big numbers like 17, 18, & 19 in my head.

Sobriety is a present in every meaning of the word. Pre-sent and pres-ent. An offering and a moment. A gift and a time; the gift of time. A hard-earned struggle-y hoot and holler look at me go this sucks ass ever changing present. And it fits just right.