September 2018

“I don’t understand how she can do that. She overdosed, almost died and she still does blow?”

Addiction is a powerful thing. Makes you cheat, steal and lie.

Logic dictates cheating death once should be enough to make someone stop the thing that caused it, but obviously (from her runny nose and vacant eyes) she didn’t quit.

I’m no better. Broke my tailbone, broke my own heart and I kept drinking and loving. Blacked out more on this rock than I ever have in my life and still ordered another shot.

Last night was night 2 fully sober. Stage is slowly becoming less terrifying. My hands still itch to be holding my (long broken) sippy cup, my throat wants the burn and water isn’t cutting it, but I am ultra-super mega hydrated so I supposed that’s good.

I still won’t say I quit. I didn’t. I was told not to drink, at all, and I am listening. The only thing I am proud of is not having that shot on my way in yesterday nor shots when I got home to fall asleep. That I have some control over. Mark said fully sober and I will abide. I love Mark more than whiskey.

I prayed for this. Some kind of intervention. Someone telling me that I was more important than bar sales.

It’s a different kind of wonderful to be awake and aware at the end of the night and to make sure the ones I care about are alright. I know they got home okay because I watched them. Falling asleep with effort, yet peacefully instead of blacking the fuck out.

I have been lead into temptation.

Past has passed, but the ghosts still appear. Two times since I have been back I felt sucker punched to the heart chakra by news of the old ones, and twice I have not cried nor drank even though my eyes and mouth watered and I wanted to.

I had 5 drinks in the 18 days I was home. Plus the 3 shots to get on the ferry away from here. I didn’t want to go.
Rode horses, went in the water, spent time with random friends in serendipitous ways. Not how I planned anything, but it was lovely.
Universe take the wheel.

I might be evolving again.

I don’t think it was enough time for a factory reset, but Do what you can with what you have where you are. Theodore Roosevelt

I am trying Teddy, I really am this time.

It would be real fucking easy to get overwhelmed right now.
Stuff is in limbo.
Bank account looking worse for the wear due to the move.
Laptop down.
Whole new routine to settle into.
The added oddness of sobriety and remembering how to function/dance whiskey-free.
The splendor that could be this new house if I could get rolling and get money and get my stuff.
Then I remembered moving to farmy all those years ago.
5 years of 2 bachelors, knotty pine walls and country dirt.
And I made it shine.
I’m on my 4th laptop and it always works out somehow.
I work in a place where money comes easily and frequently, I just have to ask for it.
My stuff will get here.
I’ll sleep in my bed for the first time since February 17th 2018. My fall clothes will come. Hats and socks and things I need.
And I remember the hangovers and the blank nights I don’t want. So this is better.
I hear people say ‘we missed you’ and ‘ it wasn’t the same without you.’ ‘She’s a good girl, be good to her.’
And I believe them.

I feel like I’m home.
I feel loved.

I also remember how to eat the elephant.
One bite at a time.

Laptop slipped into a coma a week into me being here. Sketchy YouTube to mp3 site, little virus and down she went.

It was looking bleak and then a miracle occurred.

Isn’t that always the way?

6 years ago (when this happened the last time) I panicked and shrieked loud enough to make the banshees in the woods take notice and count me as one of their own. I had set aside my Lorazepam and regretted it. Poured some whiskey on my anxiety instead. Eventually a solution was found and I ended up with this one I am using now, my darling hp Envy. The old memory ripped from the other and transferred into here. I lost a few things, it’s inevitable. Machines are still as fallible as the men who made them.

This time was no different, except for my reaction.

When letting go of the past you must be willing to let go of all of it, even the good. Come forward, be present, it’s never going to be like that again, good or bad. Nothing will come of lingering except hurt.
(I wrote that years ago)

Yes, there were twinges and pangs. I tried not to think of what I might lose, and I won.

Memories. Photos upon photos. 6 years of writing, finished and unfinished symphonies. Books started and forgotten until I couldn’t look at them anymore. Isn’t that just the way things are? Taking for granted the things right in front of us until they are taken away or just wander off because they can’t fucking take it anymore, or they get a virus and won’t load.

I left a note on the kitchen counter last night saying “what is in here is more important than the machine itself, please don’t factory reset.” And I fell asleep to my iTunes sleepy playlist via my laptop.

Douglas Adams wrote “Don’t panic.”

No point in it…all the time you spend trying to get back what they took from you, more is going out the door. No Country for Old Men, Cormac McCarthy

Brother Matt said ‘the rewrites are always better anyways’.

Hmph, three wise men, all in alignment.

I believe this to be absolute truth. That is what this is, one big cosmic do-over rewrite.

No panic, only gratitude and lessons to learn.

I suppose it’s all out now.

I came back.

To the fucky island full of fuckbois.

“I thought you hated it there”, she said.

I did, sometimes. But also, I don’t.

Nowhere is perfect, perfection doesn’t exist.

The men here are maddening, but I didn’t come back for them. I came back for me, and a bar I love and a job I really wanted that was custom made for me. I came back with my eyes wide open this time. I know exactly what I am getting into and I know I cannot predict the future, I won’t even try.

A lot of my current friends came along at a point in my life where I really only aired clean laundry on Facebook, once in a blue moon if I was falling apart, I would say so. I figured if I forced myself to seem positive, positivity would follow.

And for the most part, it worked. Then I came here and Stompy happened, that started the avalanche of suck and I had no idea what I was getting into and I couldn’t get my feet under me for more than five minutes.

Each snowflake in an avalanche pleads not guilty. Stanislaw J. Lec

But I am okay now.

I didn’t know what I was getting into and I truly believed it was going to be a cake walk with boy snuggles and it wasn’t.

No idea why I thought that. Roses have thorns and honey comes with a sting.

Like I said, I was doing everything wrong. So I got a do-over and I am doing it right now. Or at least better.

No more girl’s house. I have a pretty dove grey room upstairs to sleep in and a giant room downstairs to live in. No more hiding out in bed all damned day. I live in a real house like a real girl. I still have all the keys and responsibility of the other house. I popped by yesterday to ascertain how things were going there. Smoothish. First management meeting on Tuesday. I have all the passwords and a lot of responsibility.

I did a lot this week all things considered. I have a long way to go. At least I have coffee now. The first few hours of the first day were a bit rough. 7 days in the car during my 18 days away. I did not want to drive, but drive I did. Groceries, gas, and my last stop at Tim Hortons for a long while.

I made it to St. Apollonaire Quebec on the second day driving away from here. Picked my stopping point by sheer luck that there was an exit with coffee, food, gas and lodging all in a little roundabout 2 seconds off the highway.

I had a colossal melt down as I got in line for the ferry the night prior. A big black pickup truck pulled in behind me and I realized in that moment I was stuck leaving and I couldn’t turn around. A nice Newfie in the SUV ahead of me had a mini bar in the back (of course he did) and poured me a triple Jack Daniels so I could pull it together enough to change into my pajamas and I managed to sleep sitting half up in a chair.

I felt better the next day and the thought that kept me from melting down again was ‘I can always go back’. I walked around with matches and gasoline it seemed but I burned no bridges. So the same way I left in Novemeber, sad but determined to get back, was the way I left in August. No firm plan, but the firm plan I had hadn’t exactly worked out. I had places to land on the mainland and all the time in the world to figure it out. Had planned a trip to BC, had places to go and people to see. I got this.

Day 2. On the road for 12 hours on 6 hours sleep.

8:30 rolled around and I realized I need off the highway, I was dazed totally lost in my thoughts. 800 km on the same stretch of road. I really thought there would be more rest stops, but once I get driving I have a hard time pulling off the road. Highway hypnosis is real kids.

So I pulled off at my magical everything in one place exit and walked into a McDonalds. Phone in hand. 9 missed calls, what the fuck? Mark and Tina 3 Chains, text messages galore. “Call Mark right now” she said. “Call me right now” he said. Trying to order a burger in French, that didn’t go well, balancing my tray trying to get ketchup thinking, “I was only gone a day, did the bar burn down?”

I called Mark, he asked how soon I could get back, and that the job I wanted was mine.

I emailed my boss with terms, he agreed and added a few bonuses.

So ya, here I am.

I have bartending shifts. I am officially in charge of all things strippery. I am a literal Madame. Always wanted to do that, and now I am.

I have no idea what is going to happen. I moved into Dirty Uncle Brian’s house sight unseen and I like it here. Alice my darling puppers is with me. Mark got happy and exclaimed “she brought her dog, she’s never leaving!” I never say never, but I am here for a good long while.

All my stuff will be on a truck in a few days and before it gets here I have a lot of work to do. It feels good to say that. No more agony in atrophy. I have 3 winter coats and all my clothes coming. And yes, it’s cold here but I love dressing for fall and spring, and have landed on the island of fucky weather. My furniture and all of my things that make me happy and home.

I don’t know what the future holds, but in this moment I am happy and optimistic.