I’m an alcoholic and drug addict. I’ve been single, meaning no relationships, no dating or (gulp) sex for over 15 years. I am a diabetic. I have Lupus. Let’s take them one at a time, shall we?

I am an alcoholic and drug addict, sober and in recovery for 18 years. Before I found recovery I spent many, many years as an extremely dysfunctional, insecure, irresponsible lush and pothead. I was verbally and physically abusive to my kids when I wasn’t ignoring and neglecting them. I remember fondly my “hoochie” days when I was on welfare, going out to clubs every night of the week, getting fucked UP as in drunk and high before the club, continued drinking while at the club and a lot of other crazy shit I won’t get into. I shudder when I think of the days after that spent in isolation, still drinking and using, being miserable and suicidal many times. Afraid of everyone and everything, wondering what the hell happened to my life. What the hell happened to me? What was wrong? I was withering inside spiritually, terrified at what I’d turn into as a woman and a mother if I died inside. I should tell you that over the years I did seek help by going to church, seeing various therapists and even some parenting classes so I could be a better mother. But those measures only gave me temporary relief. I didn’t hit my kids anymore and yelled a lot less. But eventually the church would ask something of me that I didn’t like or conflicted with my drinking and using. The therapy would make me feel better so I’d stop going. Then I’d spiral down into depression, feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. Always I found myself in that pit of despair until it felt like I’d never escape, so why bother. The first gift that came out of all that shit was desperation. I found this out later when I read it in an NA daily reading. The GIFT OF DESPERATION drove me to one more therapist’s office. Only this time my desperation lead me to answer all the intake questions completely and honestly. At the end of the intake the therapist said, “I’m referring you to our Drug & Alcohol program. I think your alcohol and drug use are contributing to your depression”. This lead to my next gifts: identification for what the fuck was wrong with me and a solution! I can’t tell you the profound relief I felt having a name for what was going on with me. All of the other blessings, lessons, and spiritual growth I gained from being an alcoholic/addict in recovery/sobriety can not be quantified. Seriously, it can’t. But the proof of that is in my voice, my writing and my message with this blog site. The best part is I and this blog site will only get better keeping God within me and AA beside me.

I’ve been single, meaning no relationships, no dating or physical intimacy for over 15 years. Now this might seem like a tough one but let me just say, don’t get it twisted- I may not have had sex in over 15 years, but I haven’t gone without orgasms either! Come on, we’re all adults here. Anyhow, this, meaning single, no relationships or dating, stemmed from sobriety. Part of the recovery process is A LOT of intense personal writing that gets to the heart of who and what you are. One of those intense processes is a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. My sexual inventory at the time was a horrific revelation of my motives for all of my relationships and men I’d slept with. I mean, my “number” wasn’t even that high for being 30 years old when I wrote out my first inventory. Long story short, I used sex to find love. I used sex to try and make him love me. Didn’t matter which him, the motive was the same. Out of that revelation, I understood I should not be in a relationship or even start one until I worked on myself. Unfortunately, my horror and absolute terror caused me to just shut down that part of my life. Shit, my kids were one, six and eight when I got sober. I had my hands full keeping my head above water with parenting and working full time. My development as a mother, friend, daughter, employee and sister skyrocketed over the years. My development as a woman, not so much… or so I thought.  However, the gift in shutting down that part of my life is that it opened up my heart and mind to develop the woman I am today. I know who I am and what I bring to the table, so I’m no longer afraid of losing myself if or when I start dating or even get into a relationship. I accept, love and appreciate myself. So much so, that I’m just not able to tolerate anyone in my life who can’t. What a gift!

Let’s take my chronic medical conditions together, because I discovered them that way. Let me explain. I am a diabetic and I have Lupus. In January of 2010, five years ago, I started having weird issues with my hands and wrists. They’d go numb and one Saturday I woke up from a nap on my couch and the palms of my hands and fingers had a noticeable bluish tinge. The numbness became tingling. I showed my middle child Lyndon because he’d just walked in the door. He insisted on driving me to Urgent Care. They couldn’t figure out what was going on. They ran some tests and told me to follow up with my primary physician. I went to her and my symptoms were growing into an extreme stiffness in my fingers when I woke up and achy stiff knees if I sat for any length of time. I lost strength in my wrists as well. My job as a claims adjuster entails lifting and handling heavy paper file folders, reaching up and down for them. Work was agony. I literally could only work at 70% physical capacity on good days. I was so scared that for once in my life I only told 2 people what was going on. My sponsor and my boss at work. They were both phenomenally supportive. So back to the doctors. My primary doctor ordered more tests because initial results indicated I had developed type 2 Diabetes and a severe vitamin D efficiency. However, they didn’t explain the growing symptoms. I was sent to a neurologist for a nerve conduction study (ouch) and back to him again to go over the results. It wasn’t neuromuscular, but he saw an elevated ANA number on one of my lab results and referred me to a rheumatologist. The Rheumatologist diagnosed the Lupus, which is an autoimmune disease. Still don’t know what that means? My own immune system attacks, at will, ANY AND ALL healthy tissues, organs or systems in the body. My particular form attacks my joints and ligaments, thereby giving the arthritic symptoms of a 90-year-old woman. Lupus is chronic but treatable. As is type 2 Diabetes. My Lupus symptoms are treated with medication and has been classified as a mild form. I need to stay well rested, avoid extreme stress as that can trigger more severe symptoms, stay out of prolonged sunlight during the hottest part of the day and eat well. The Diabetes is under control without medication because I was stubborn at the time. I had just started a Weight Watchers At Work program and was having some success. The Diabetes caused me to get serious and kick my  healthy eating and exercise into high gear. I lost 55 pounds, became very active with hiking, doing 5k walks, exercise boot camps, and regular gym activity. I’m convinced Weight Watchers worked so well for me because it’s set up very much like a 12 step program. Regular meeting attendance, peer support, accountability, and advice. I was primed by AA! So my chronic medical conditions make me responsible and accountable for my health in a way I wouldn’t otherwise bother with. It’s second nature now. Having to see my rheumy twice a year for Lupus and my primary twice for Diabetes helps keep me in check. Some might not see this as a gift or blessing, but I am lazy when it comes to my physical health. This forces me to do better, especially when I slide like I have the last couple of years, gaining weight and being sedentary. It’s incredible when I understand that all of these gifts, blessings and ability to find the lesson began with sobriety. I am blessed. 

This Sunday I needed to drive Baby Bub 65 miles up the coast to Dana Point so she could catch a ferry boat to Catalina Island. I’d gotten paid Friday and planned to pay my bills. I had finally designated this weekend as the one where I would decorate my new place, put up pictures, find a new clock and area rug for the dining room, put away the last of the “stuff” that needs to go into our outdoor storage room. I’d planned to hike a local trail with a new friend in town BEFORE Saturday morning Yoga class. My car was more than 2000 miles overdue for an oil change.

I had a half day off from work Friday and headed to one of the local malls to do an errand I had planned for Thursday. Anyone see where this is going with all the damn plans?  My feet hurt in the cute wedges I had on and they weren’t conducive for mall walking, so my first detour was Payless Shoes. I found cute flat sandals on sale for $10, that matched my outfit! They came in black for the same price so of course I bought them too. $20 plus tax later, I encountered my first true sidetrack. Anna’s Linens was having a going out of business sale! Hello, this was the weekend I was decorating and I needed a large wall clock. $70 plus tax later, I had my beautiful wall clock, 2 large standing metal vases in a matching accent color to the clock, 2 bunches of dried flora to go in the vases and a lovely small box also in another accent color to the clock. I had to carry all the household stuff and new shoes to the car before I could go back to complete the errand that took me to the mall in the first place. I got home and in the mail were my two $100 Visa reward cards from AT&T Uverse! I hit up the local K-Mart with a friend for picture hanging material. I left there with a fantastic cranberry area rug, placemats with color designs that tied the clock and area rug together, square linen baskets for my open shelves, a fabulous hurricane lamp, scissors, etc, etc, etc.

Oh, have I forgotten to mention how FRICKIN hot it was this weekend, starting with Friday? Seriously, it was 107 degrees on my drive home from the mall. Saturday was no better. It was definitely too hot to hike, no matter how early we started. So I suggested and  my new friend agreed, that we meet at a local park where we can follow the paths around it several times to get at least a mile or so in before the heat really kicked in. The park has some shade as well along the paths. After walking, I made it to Yoga class. Afterward I met some friends for a late breakfast, then got talked into a trip to Goodwill (God help me, please). I got out of there with a lovely squat vase in yet another accent color to the fabulous clock (!) and a woven basket, total out the door was $4.98. I went home for what I thought would be a short nap and then some serious picture hanging and decorating. Instead, I slept on and off until right after 6 p.m. I had dinner, went to a meeting, hung out with friends and I was back home for bed after 10 p.m.

Then it was Sunday morning. Baby Bub’s ferry left at 11:55 a.m. and we had to be there at least 20 minutes prior or they wouldn’t let her redeem the ticket waiting for her. We thought an hour and a half would be enough time. It would have been if there hadn’t been a traffic accident at San Clemente which caused considerable slowing. Baby Bub kept checking the estimated time of arrival on the map application on my phone. It kept getting longer and longer until I told her she needed to stop looking at it. The tension and stress level was high in the car. She and I often do not communicate well in the best of circumstance, imagine how well it was going then. I hate that about our relationship, truly. It feels like I’m being clear or she feels she is being clear, but either we’re not clear or we’re not listening very well. I suspect its a little of both on both our parts and something that certainly won’t get fixed during a car ride. We got to Dana Point Harbor, only she didn’t put in the actual address for the ferry so we ended up at the wrong area. We pulled up to the correct launch area well past the 20-minute window, but they allowed her to redeem her ticket and she was off to Catalina Island for a week as a volunteer camp counselor.

With all the tension and stress from the ride up to Dana Point, my  head started in on me about all the OTHER plans I hadn’t gotten to this weekend. I hadn’t paid any bills but was spending money left and right. I hadn’t hung up any pictures or put any rooms together. I hadn’t gone  hiking. I still hadn’t gotten an oil change for my car. I haven’t made my 9th Step amends to Baby Bub because I’m scared that our communication issues will blow up in our faces. I was doing a serious number on myself and feeling like an irresponsible, procrastinating piece of shit. As I drove along I-5, I saw the ocean to my right. I don’t really like the beach. I hate sand, it gets everywhere, and I don’t like the smell of the ocean either. However, I do love looking at it and listening to it.  The color and the waves are so soothing. Plus once I hit the interstate, the ocean was down a cliff and far away. When I saw a sign that said Viewpoint in 4 miles and Rest stop in 7 miles, I knew I had to pull over. I had to get out of my car and out of my fucking head!

Standing at the top of the viewpoint I closed my eyes and breathed for several minutes, ignoring the other people who had also stopped. This was my view point, my calming moment. A wave of emotion came over me as I started to soothe myself. I realized I had done plenty  and the weekend wasn’t over yet. I would continue to get things done, whether it was according to plan or not. There were a few other things frustrating me of late, but I let those go. I released them to the air and the ocean below. I smiled all the way deep down where I lived. I opened my eyes, took a few pictures of the view and took a few pictures of myself in front of the view. I stopped 4 miles down the road to use the restroom, took in the view there too and appreciated the 83-degree weather.

You know what? I also stopped to get lunch because I was hungry. When I got back to town and its lovely 106-degree temperature, I headed straight for an oil change. At home, I put up the clock, decorated my writing space and put some other stuff up around the house. I ate some dinner and went to a meeting. When I got back home I paid bills and went to bed. I didn’t do all I planned, but I got some of it done! The truth is I used to be really irresponsible with my money and my time, creating all manner of problems. But that isn’t me anymore. Sure I get a little sidetracked but things get done at a pace different than I imagined. THAT’S OK!

I just asked my daughter Baby Bub that question. She said she didn’t know and it was kind of a weird question. But before she said it was kind of a weird question she said, “I don’t know, I just hang out with my friends, or with the kids from my church, or with my youth pastor at his house with his wife and kids.” At the age of 19, even though she is not quite aware that she has them, she has people, places and things that are safe for her. Healing places where she can be herself, learn about herself, have good, safe fun and blossom into the amazing young woman she is. At 19! I’m so happy for her and proud of that fact because it took me much, much longer to be where she is now.

The first time I recognized a place of healing as such was during my very first Narcotics Anonymous meeting 18 years ago. I was early for the meeting so I sat in one of the chairs in the circle. More and more women came into the room, hugging and greeting each other like old friends. I sat there feeling very much like an outsider, uncomfortable, scared and miserable to my core. Then a woman walked in, came over to me and said, “Hi, my name is Ellie.” She reached down and hugged me. I felt so welcomed, connected and suddenly a part of the group. Another lady handed me a reading called ‘Why Are We Here?’ and I accepted it. Although I didn’t know it because this was my first meeting, they all open with readings about the program. The leader of the meeting (the same one who handed me the reading) asked someone to read ‘Why Are We Here’, so I said, “My name is Tammi and I’m an Addict.” and I started reading about why we were there. I started reading about my life and what lead me to that meeting, that moment in time. It was too much, I could not finish reading and broke into sobs. I was absolutely horrified at my uncontrollable display of emotion. No one in my life ever liked when I was emotional. NO ONE! But instead of feeling censure, impatience or awkwardness from the group, I felt quiet acceptance, patience, and empathy. The woman next to me reached over and started gently rubbing the small of my back while I struggled to pull myself together. They just waited patiently for me to stop crying. No one demanded the reading from me to say they’d finish it. There was a little baby on the floor, probably six months or so on her belly in the middle of the circle. She suddenly let out quite a loud baby fart and the whole room erupted into laughter, including me. This helped me finally get my sobs under control and I finished the reading. After the readings, there is time set aside for any addict celebrating various lengths of recovery. A woman named Christine celebrated a four-year anniversary and she dedicated her token to me, the newcomer! I was so touched and amazed by her speech. It was the first time in my life that I’d been in a place that provided such unconditional love, acceptance, and support. It felt like coming home, a home I never dreamed existed and didn’t even know I needed. That feeling more than anything else kept me coming back to meetings and sticking with recovery long after the reality of life without drugs and alcohol set in. So I was thirty before I found my first place of healing.

Since I stayed in recovery, I learned who, where and what was healing for me and what was not. Over the years, the more I learned who I was and the woman I was growing into, I instinctively sought out healing places. Some I found by divine providence in my efforts to help or support others. Some I discovered by being open and willing to take and follow up on suggestions. The important thing is that I had the heart and mind to recognize them as such.

So what are my other healing places? Let’s see, we covered 12 step meetings.  I see a licensed Marriage & Family therapist every other week and she’s phenomenal. I started taking yoga classes at her suggestion about a month ago and it has been a wonderfully unexpected healing place! Yoga has given me a safe environment to challenge me physically, to uplift me emotionally and spiritually,  and to provide me with mental clarity.  I have a friend who gives massages out of her home. She and her husband built a lovely, soothing, peaceful room that truly provides the perfect space for massage body work! The people in my life that create healing places just by the simple connection of talking on the phone or hanging out are my sponsor/spiritual advisor and a few long time close friends.

I’ve created my bedroom into a quiet healing place for sleeping, reading, writing, listening to music, for praying and meditating. No television in my bedroom, sorry- not sorry. Believe it or not, I’m also making my Facebook page as healing as possible for myself and others. I like and follow pages that are spiritual, loving, encouraging, uplifting and provide hope, inspiration and connection. This floods my newsfeed with amazing posts that I can re-post for others to see. I can’t control what my friends post, but I can minimize or block exposures that are negative, unkind, hateful and divisive.

I think the most important healing place I am discovering and creating is within myself. This space inside of me where I’m not allowed to be an asshole to myself. A space where I build my strength, courage, love and light to share with others. A place of growing authenticity inside myself that instinctively seeks out people, places and things that nourish my spirit and soul. I hope you can say that you have such people, places or things in your life that heal and bring you back to center, that celebrate who you are. If not, don’t be afraid to find them or seek them out. They are there for you when you are ready!

This post was written just under a month ago by hand in a notebook. It was a great day of gratitude, new shoes, and yoga! The morning began with day 2 of Oprah and Deepak’s 21-day meditation experience, Manifesting Grace Through Gratitude. It was 20 minutes of silently repeating a Sanskrit mantra “Kripa hum” today, or ” I am divine grace” with the centering thought “All good things bring gratitude.” I was no stranger to prayer and meditation as I had been semi-consistent with the practice over the last 10 years. But this specific meditation experience was helping too!

I currently work in a high pressure, multi-tasking production oriented cubicle environment. The kind that can truly drain your energy and beat down your spirit- if you let it. As you can imagine, my fellow pod people aka co-workers are somewhat amused if not mildly dismissive or mocking about my positive attitude resulting from those gratitude meditations (GRATITUDE MEDS!) and it was only day 2! It’s not like I became Suzy Sunshine, but I complained way less. I even caught myself (or co-workers pointed out my slips into bitterness), then I’d repeat my mantra. It caused chuckles, but it made me smile and kept the edge off my day, which was huge. For lunch that day some of my fellow female pod people (co-workers!) went to DSW Designer Shoe Warehouse because I needed shoes for a wedding reception coming up that weekend. For those uninitiated with this absolute shoe haven, it’s nirvana! I found some fantastic summer sandals and wedges, all on sale and super cute. Check out the photo below. I love shoe shopping because no matter how much you weigh you can always buy shoes that fit and look fantastic!!! Four pairs for $119.00,  I even picked up some Clarks flip flops for  my daughter, Baby Bub. I only bought her a pair so she can stay the hell out of mine! Girlfriend is brutal on flip flops and I love my Clarks!  

After work, I rushed home because my intention was to try my first Yoga class on a recommendation from my therapist. I’ve done some beginning yoga using a DVD on my own in my home. I’ve shied away from actual classes because, as I mentioned in my first blog, I’m a fluffy girl. When it came to the thought of attending a yoga class, I was a fluffy self-conscious girl! I used to be an avid hiker who was a good 40lbs lighter once upon a time, but I’d really let myself go when it came to my weight and physical activity. My recent move had brought home the reality of my sedentary lifestyle. When the move was all over, my back was killing me, especially my low back/hip area. My therapist suggested I try a local yoga studio that had specific classes on hip work. Apparently we humans hold stress, negative emotions, and “old stuff” in our hip/low back area and there are yoga classes which can help release all of that. I contacted the studio and told them what my therapist suggested. They recommended a moon yoga class and a yin class with some great price specials for beginning students. My first class was on a Tuesday evening. It was the moon yoga and it was women only. They were so welcoming and inclusive. I felt comfortable in my double sports bra, oversized tank top, and yoga capris. It was almost exactly what every other woman was wearing too. The stretches were slow and steady. I could follow along without feeling awkward or like I couldn’t keep up with the class. My sweaty boobs tried to suffocate me a few times, but I knew how to wrestle my girls into submission. I felt so relaxed afterward, not too sore, but more importantly, I was completely comfortable with my body. My beautiful fluffy body!

Later that evening I had a healthy dinner of leftovers after class. While I checked out Facebook I came across a great post on You Are Not Stuck by Becky Vollmer (you totally need to check out her Facebook & Instagram pages). She didn’t get chosen as a speaker after auditioning for a TEDx talk. I clicked on the Youtube link to her to watch her three-minute audition and it was on point! She talked about how to facilitate the catalyst for your own change. She said to get your life off autopilot takes two things: intention and choices. I recognized the truth in her words because those two things had already been fueling the catalyst to change my own life. The fact that I was sitting at my dining room table writing this blog instead of laying on my couch zoning out on tv was a testament to that catalyst. Since I’d moved into my new place two weeks ago (six weeks as of this actual typing now) and the cable/internet wi-fi was set up, I’ve yet to watch tv. My brand new 43″ Vizio flat screen Smart tv. This was unprecedented and still is, but clearly indicative of my intention to change my life. My intentions lead me to make different choices which brought me here as I continue to disengage the autopilot and take the controls with God as my co-pilot.

In other words, step out of your comfort zone! As I mentioned in my first post “How Did I Get Here?”, the idea for this blog was suggested to me by a friend who was trying to help me out of a depressive funk. She thought it would be a good idea to blog about walking through my fears to accomplish certain declarations and goals I made that I was not living up to. I kind of liked the idea, but she and I were in the middle of a big community project at the time so the plan was tabled for a later date. However, the thought was in the back of my head, marinating. I loved Facebook and there were several pages and personalities that I followed who blogged really great stuff. Inspirational, motivational, uplifting posts that I related to in a big way.

The community project took front and center, then I accepted the #HowBigIsYourBrave/#LoveYourSelfie challenge. Life rolled along as I grew more confident and brave in my everyday life. Oh, yes, I also decided to MOVE from the apartment complex I’d lived in for 14 years too. I was cooking with grease and trying not to lose my mind figuring out exactly how to accomplish all of these life changes and events I decided to initiate or be a part of. Seriously, I was a typical couch potato, romantic novel reading middle-aged 40 something before I decided to finally start actively participating in creating the life I wanted. I felt so stuck and stagnant the last two or three years. Stricken with an ever increasing Divine Dissatisfaction with my job, myself, my life and how I avoided it with emotional eating and vegging in front of the tv. It was work, home, tv, eating unhealthy on a horribly massive scale, occasional outings with friends and social engagements. Just over a month ago I was complaining to my spiritual adviser how my body ached due to increased weight and decreased physical activity. My back, legs, arms, shoulders and neck were killing me the day of my move and well afterwards! And that was with a ton of help from friends at all stages of the move.

So here’s the thing about feeling stuck or stagnant. It’s a feeling, and you will see me write this over and over because I tend to forget. Feelings aren’t facts. The truth is I’ve been seeing a therapist since November of 2013. I found her through my Employee Assistance Program (EAP) at work to help me talk to my middle child, Lyndon who was 23 at the time. I was sending him to live with my sister and brother-in-law in Northern California. Well we had one session with my son before he left and the therapist suggested I continue seeing her since there were five more sessions available and I’d touched on some things worth exploring. Working with a therapist and a spiritual adviser is not being stuck or stagnant. It is doing the icky work of getting through my issues until I was at a place where I felt confident or fed up enough to finally DO SOMETHING. Or do some things about my life.

Now I am actively participating in creating the life I want. The life I firmly believe my Higher Power is calling me to live. I still have hiccups along the way. Fear, discouragement and frustration rear their ugly heads. But I ride them out. I have healthier ways of dealing with them. I’ve been telling my friends an incredible fact: since I moved into my new place on July 2nd I have BARELY watched television. It’s been so obvious that Baby Bub even remarked on it and anything that filters through to her awareness it pretty major. I don’t even have the desire to watch tv because I’m too busy writing, listening to Pandora on my smartphone or out and about with friends. My life has undergone a major reconstruction and this is only the beginning… Breaking my own barriers baby!