i like the hateful “beany eyes”, plus, this is like a really boring journal entry, sorry

Today my friend T. tells me I’m a “poster child for the women”*. He says I’m doing so well, he cites my homelife and marriage. And he says, “You got your kids working without having to – ” and he does this motion like whipping someone.

“Everyone” knows my kids are great. And doing great. T.’s talking to me and I’m thinking, yeah, life is pretty good in ways I am finding more meaningful daily. Like back in the day, I used to feel so stressed about aspects of running a home. But today while I am doing my thing here, my children are home cleaning the house. They’d cheerfully volunteered to do housework while I was out. I came home to plants watered, floors vacuumed and swept, dog walked, and the dishes done. Actually before I left I’d tried to talk the kids out of so many chores because it was kind of a lot.  I’m still getting used to letting go of some of this business.

Weirdly and speaking of Recovery, I recently had someone engage in insensitive and rude behavior re: my alcoholism. As in, mean-spirited comments and gossip. Amazing. I kept quiet at the time because I was surprised at what was happening, and because no response was intuitively forthcoming. But when I reflected on this later, I realized I’ve been very fortunate. I’ve been sober some eighteen months now and unless I’m mis-remembering, that’s only ONE incident where someone was shitty to me. I’ve got a lot of support, from not only those in Recovery but many of those in my life still actively drinking and using. Lots of people have been treated worse.

My kidneys are acting up the last few days, a fair amount of pain, but again, my perspective has changed. Instead of being afraid of the pain, I know that I can choose to pace (and sweat and maybe vomit) at home; or I can go to the ER. Knowing I have options helps and I am calm. I have accepted, at least for this time being, that I have physical pain.

Tonight Ralph and I helped someone for about three hours, putting together an online application packet and a cover letter.

It feels good to help others with no regard for return.

I made a zombie platypus for Phee. She named the plushie “Smog” and said Smog is both a boy and a girl. Smog has a cheerful hate and will fuck you up with poisonous spines (that’s a real thing BTW, God came up with that). But Smog loves Phoenix and they sleep together every night.

Zombie Platypus Plushie, Made For My Daughter

I’m working on the kids’ Christmas presents right now but I CAN’T POST DICK bout it. I haven’t yet scrabbled enough in my mattress (okay, Paypal) to buy my super-awesome Ralph present. But we’ll see how it goes.

* at the treatment center

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