So, I was 8 months on March 28th. I’m still awed that I’m at this point. My phone says 247 days. F…ing amaze balls.( stole that from Mrs. D).
Anyway all is well. There have been several posts on blogs lately about being hopefull and happy. And that’s where I am. I’m happy, very, and I’m hopeful that this feeling will continue. I’m not tempted to drink. Oh, I occasionally think about it, as something I used to do. For example, the sun was shining here yesterday. My first reaction was, ” Holy Shit, there’s still a sun! We are still on Earth and not some alternate universe beneath the London tubes.” (Ever read the book Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman, you should). Anyway, the sun made me think about summers and our screened porch and meals outside and sitting out there drinking wine. But I know I won’t and can’t do that anymore so I need some fun alternatives. I ordered a book from Amazon called Margarita Mama, all kinds of fun drinks for pregnant ladies. I think I’ll try some out this summer, if it ever comes to Chicago. I started this journey at the end of July last year so I had a short time to deal with the porch. So early on I avoided the porch; wine memories. And stay out ofthe kitchen; witching hour memories. I was twitchy then, couldn’t be around the thought of or the memory of wine wine wine. But honey, look at the old girl now. They are just BAD memories.
I just had a thought, I’ll invent some n/a drinks and write a book called Menopausal Mocktails. What cha think?
Off on a tangent again.
So I’m glad to be done with the bad memories. I like making new happy ones. Nothing’s perfect. I have shit days and disappointments and some really awful things happen to loved ones and friends, but it’s still not as shitty as it was when I was drinking. I can deal so much better now. I now know what it feels like to be happy. That was out of my life for such a long time. I used to hate myself.
When we moved back to this area my son was in 7th grade and just miserable. Starting over at everything. He preferred laying on the couch and feeling sorry for himself for the longest time. I tried everything to help him out, to make him happy, my heart ached for him. It wasn’t until I realized that he had to make himself happy and I kicked him off the couch that life improved.
We are responsible for our own happiness, no one else can do it for us. Oh, others can make us laugh, but happiness comes from inside, from peace and contentment and liking ourselves. I like me now.
I could be a whole lot happier if Mother Nature would get up off her fat fucking ass and bring spring to my neck of the woods, it’s April frickin first and it’s now 39 degrees!